Sitka

Sitka was the capital of Russian America until Alaska was sold to the United States in 1867. It was founded by Alexander Baranof in 1799 who ruthlessly supplanted the native Kiksadi Clan of the Tlingit people. However, the Tlingit struck back in 1802, burning the Russian settlement to the ground. Baranof retaliated in 1804. He returned to the area with four ships, cannons and landing party of more than 150 men. Initially the Russians were unsuccessful and the battle for Tlingit Fort raged for days. Eventually, the natives ran low on supplies, particularly gunpowder, and were forced to abandon their fort under the cover of darkness. The town of Sitka soon rose in its place.


The site of the 1804 battle is now Alaska’s smallest national park. It’s a wonderfully picturesque woodland crossed by trails along which 18 totem poles have been erected. Most were first displayed at the 1904 Louisiana Exposition in St Louis before being moved to their present location. I spent a pleasant hour wandering the park, before heading off to the Sheldon Jackson Museum. I particularly wanted to see one exhibit; the infamous raven’s helmet worn by Chief Katlian during the 1804 battle.


The Russians came to Sitka for one simple reason; sea otters. The otters were highly prized for their rich, dense fur. Otter lack fat layers to keep them warm and thus are dependent on their fur’s insulting qualities. As a result, the sea otter has the densest fur of any animal in the world. Intensive hunting during the late 1700s and early 1800s brought the species almost to extinction. It was estimated that by 1911 less than 2,000 animals remained. Today, diligent conservation efforts have restored their numbers to above 150,000.


This morning we went in search of sea otters around coastal islands near Sitka. The experience was unforgettable. Sea otters are very social creatures and will often gather in large groups, or rafts. We came across several such groups on our tour. It was a breath-taking experience watching these cheeky animals spinning somersaults and happily floating on their backs. I could have watched them for hours. We also saw an occasional single otter rolling around in the middle of the sea, or dining on captured shellfish.


We later came across two humpback whales engaged in yet another unique feeding display. They were tail-slapping. This involves whales flicking their tails into the air and slapping them swiftly onto the surface of the sea. This stuns fish feeding below the surface, making them easy prey for the hungry whale.

You won’t believe this. Just as I finished typing this paragraph I glanced out the window of our cabin and saw another whale engaged in a tail-slapping display. Garry and I are becoming quite proficient whale watchers. We spot several on a daily basis from the comfort of our balcony.


The remainder of our day in Sitka was spent visiting many of its Russian-influenced highlights. The most prominent of these is St Michael’s Cathedral, a wooden Russian Orthodox cathedral in the centre of town. The current building dates from 1976. It’s a faithful reproduction of the original building destoryed during a fire that swept through the town's business district in 1966.


This earlier structure had stood for almost 120 years; housing priceless treasures such as gold and silver Russian icons. Fortunately, these were saved from destruction in 1966 by residents who braved the advancing flames. However, the most impressive item saved was the stunning chandler that hangs from the ceiling of the main dome. The locals clearly had plenty of time to complete their salvage.


I also ventured up a small hill behind the cathedral to visit Princess Maksoutoff’s grave. She died in 1862 and was the wife of the last Russian governor. She was the last Russian royal to be buried in Alaska before the territory was sold. Her grave is one of three sitting on a empty grassy knoll. A large sign-post makes it clear that this is a Lutheran cemetery, as a few metres away lies a fence line marking the start of the Russian Orthodox cemetery. Heaven forbid that anyone would confuse the long-dead Princess with the wrong Christian faith.

We ventured out to these islands to see colourful puffins bobbing about in the sea

Skagway

This was one cruise destination I was rather dubious about. However, it turned out to be a hidden gem on our itinerary. Skagway is a small town of less than 800 people, nestled at the head of a stunning 90-mile deep-water fjord called Lynn Canal. This small town was once the disembarkation point for more than 40,000 men heading inland to strike it rich during the 1897 Klondike Gold Rush.


In the century since its founding, most of the town’s old wooden buildings have been carefully preserved. The result is a showcase frontier town where you literally feel the gold rush years come alive as you stroll its battered, creeping boardwalks. Highlights include the Wells Fargo bank where you can see five classic brass teller grills since in place and the driftwood-clad Arctic Brotherhood Hall. I particularly loved the Red Onion Salon’s clever little display. Downstairs it was once one of 70 lively bars in town, while upstairs a local brothel operated. Today, two mannequins continue to taunt passer-bys from the upstairs windows.


Incredibly, the town is connected to Whitehorse in Canada by train and road, the only such town in all of Alaska. The famed White Pass & Yukon rail route runs from the town waterfront and up to White Pass, sitting 2885 feet above sea-level, in less than twenty miles. Trains still operate a tourist run several times a day during Summer. The rail tour was booked out well in advance so we elected to have a quiet day in town. However, while we were there we were fortunate enough to see Skagway’s classic steam engine pull into the local station. It was a truly postcard moment.


We booked a two-hour Skagway Streetcar tour several months ago and came expecting very little in return. However, as I’ve noticed earlier, we were pleasantly surprised. We were initially greeted on the dock by a gregarious guide in period costume. She also drove our bright yellow 1920’s bus. Our guide processed to show us the town, offering up the most entertaining stories and anecdotes, including that of lawless gang-leader Jefferson Randolph ‘Soapy' Smith.


Soapy is a local legend. He was a con artist and swindler who initially captured the hearts and minds of locals until his devious schemes were brought to light. He subsequently died in a dramatic gun fight on the town's dock, but not before fatally wounding his killer, Frank Reid. Both men are now buried in the Gold Rush Cemetery located on the wooded outskirts of town.


Our tour finished with a visit to the Skagway Outlook, a scenic spot overlooking the town and Lynn Canal. Here the small, compact town and its glorious location unfolded below us in another postcard perfect view. The stunning views continued after we departed Skagway. As our ship returned down Lynn Canal we sat on our suite balcony watching one awe inspiring snow-clad peak after another glide by. Today was definitely a highlight of our entire cruise.


And one last parting picture...

Damp and disappointing Juneau

Juneau is the state capital of Alaska. It’s home to 31,000 people and is completely land-locked; access can be gained only by boat or air. It’s a rather drab city, punctuated by the occasional monolithic government building or dramatic pork-barrel funded public space, and every street corner seems to host a poorly lit, foreboding bar. In fact the only building of note is the Governor’s sparkling, white mansion nestled on a green hillside overlooking downtown. It came as no surprise to later learn that there have been numerous attempts to move the state capital elsewhere.


Given such an uninviting aspect we spent most of our time out of town visiting its most popular sights. Mendenhall Glacier was our first excursion. This 12-mile river of ice flows down to sea-level from the nearby Juneau Ice Field and can be reached by road less than 15 minutes from downtown Juneau. As we arrived at its well appointed visitors centre the clouds closed in and rain began to fall, giving the glacier a rather mystical look.


This is a glacier in fall retreat. Seventy years ago its face was located where today’s visitor’s centre can be found. Since then Mendenhall has retreated several kilometres up the valley and can only be reached via a tqo kilometre walking track. We decided we’d been spoilt by Iceland’s dramatic glaciers where we’d literally driven up to the face of more than one glacier. Mendenhall Glacier simply wasn’t as noteworthy as guidebooks had us believe. For Garry the highlight of our visit was the moment he spotted a juvenile beaver swimming in its reached dammed lake.


Our next stop was everything we’d hoped it would be. We caught a whale-watching tour out to Stephens Passage. The water was unbelievably calm as the evening tide reached its peak. Even the locals were commenting on its glassy appearance. Incredibly, tides along the Panhandle coast fluctuate almost five metres between the high and low mark. Sadly, despite ideal whale watching conditions the usually reliable passage generated no whale sightings. Our boat soon moved on towards to Vanderbilt Reef. Here the ultimate nature show unfolded.


We arrived as a pod of Humpback Whales were engaged in bubble-net fishing. These normally solitary creatures team up every Summer to herd schools of herring in ever tighter clusters before dining on them in a dramatic ambush. First, the whales dive below the fish, then circle them with a curtain of bubbles blown from their blowholes. The bubble-net is drawn tighter and tighter until one whale calls out to the others. Then, in unison, the pod rise open-mouthed, swallowing the haplessly corralled fish above then. Finally, the ascending whales breech the surface in a dramatic swirl of white foaming water, often leaping high into the air.


Each dramatic surface breech was followed by several minutes of noisy recovery breathing, with dorsal fins and blowhole spray repeatedly breaking the surface. Then, one by one, each whales would prepare for a deep dive with a slow, elegant flick of its tail flukes. Alaska is the only place in the world where humpback whales feed in this manner. We watched mesmerised for almost half an hour as the pod repeated this spectacular feeding ritual again and again.

Tracy Arm

While enroute to Juneau our cruise breifly detoured to take in the dramatic sight of Tracy Arm. This narrow fjord stretches more than 30 miles inland from the Inland Passage. Small vessels can traverse its entire length until they reach the icy faces of the twin Sawyer Glaciers, where visitors can watch icebergs calve in loud, echoing cracks. Some of our cruise companions did this today. However, Garry and I elected no to join them as we have a similar voyage booked upon arrival in Seward next Wednesday.


While our ship was too large to trave more a few miles up Tracy Arm, we still ventured far enough to experience the majesty of this fjord. In fact, the most dramatic moment of this two-hour excursion came as our ship finally turned and prepared for its retreat. The scale of the landscape became all too apparent as you saw the lenght of our large vessel dwarfed by the sheer walls of 2,000 foot cliffs towering above us. Add to this scene a few plunging white-foam waterfalls, delicate pencil falls and brilliant turquoise blue water and you've captured the moment as well.