It does not take a trained eye to immediately recognize that Mount Edgecumbe is not like all the other wonderful snow-crested craggy mountains that we have sailed past over the previous days. This morning, as we emerged on deck after a good night's sleep, we spotted this unique mountain, in its amazing symmetry, silhouetted against the horizon. Within easy view of the town of Sitka, Mount Edgecumbe has stood sentinel for many centuries, warning newcomers that it is not a mountain like all others. Its shape tells us that its beauty is deceptive; it has the power to destroy.

This mountain is a volcano. It is one of a giant series of volcanos that rings the Pacific Ocean, and research has revealed to us the slightly disturbing fact that the last time this mountain has come alive was some eight to nine thousand years ago, and that it could once again do so any time in the future. For us on the Sea Bird, however, this realization did not dampen our delight at the magnificent beauty of the ridged and snow-decorated dome-shaped giant, with her peak hidden in the clouds, as if shy in front of all of us admirers.

We speculated at the effect of the last eruption of Edgecumbe, both on the natural history of the region, and on the native community that must have witnessed the event. How widespread was the destruction? How long did it take for the nearby forests to recover? What effect did the ash-fall have on the growth of the vegetation? How did the eruption influence the spiritual and artistic life of the native population? We will never be able to answer these questions with firm answers. But in our imagination we drifted back those nine millennia, and as we departed from Sitka later in the day, we took our leave from Edgecumbe with all the respect that a sleeping goddess of fire deserves.