Sitka
Our day began at an odd hour—one thirty in the morning! It was then that a voice, familiar, but never expected in the middle of the night, commanded us to venture outside. Once on deck, we saw the sky wrapped in a green auroral ribbon. The aurora borealis may occur at any time, but clear skies and darkness are a rare combination during a Southeast Alaskan summer, so we felt lucky to see this display. The light waxed and waned, meandered and pulsed, like a dance too slow to be accurately perceived. At last the aurora coalesced into a narrow band that ran right across the Big Dipper—what more iconographically Alaskan scene can be imagined? Meanwhile, the green was balanced by Mars’ orange light, shining with the brightness of once in a thousand lifetimes!
Fog muffled the passage to Sitka, but as we arrived it lifted, and we saw Sitka glistening under clear skies. Through time, mingling layers of life have inhabited this western shore of Baranof Island, and we saw signs of many. First, perhaps, came the salmon. It is compelling to think that 12 thousand years ago, as the great ice sheets withdrew, leaving a new landscape, it may have been salmon, leaving the streams of their ancestors, that first fertilized the barren land with their spawned-out bodies. We saw salmon by the thousands, filling Indian Creek, jockeying for prime spawning ground. A rich stench hung in the air as we observed nature at its finest—sex and death liberally mingled! Alaska’s first people may have arrived not long after the salmon. Their descendants, the Tlingit, settled Sitka long ago, and are still here in force. We saw much of their beautiful art at two town museums. Later came Russians, pursuing the sea otter. They made Sitka their regional capitol, and built the cathedral, whose spires we saw towering gracefully into the blue sky. Just a few hundred feet away, the Russians officially handed over Alaska to the latest newcomers, the Americans. And the latest bit of Sitkan history was writ as travelers from the Sea Bird’s last Alaskan voyage of 2003 roamed town!
In the afternoon, we again traversed Peril Strait. Warm sun and clear skies made the outside decks thoroughly comfortable, and we were able to observe rare animal behavior in this part of the world—humans wearing shorts and sunglasses! We also spotted eagles, deer, and humpbacks so near that they practically grazed the sides of the ship.
Natural and cultural history make a fascinating blend, and both look best under sunny skies!
Our day began at an odd hour—one thirty in the morning! It was then that a voice, familiar, but never expected in the middle of the night, commanded us to venture outside. Once on deck, we saw the sky wrapped in a green auroral ribbon. The aurora borealis may occur at any time, but clear skies and darkness are a rare combination during a Southeast Alaskan summer, so we felt lucky to see this display. The light waxed and waned, meandered and pulsed, like a dance too slow to be accurately perceived. At last the aurora coalesced into a narrow band that ran right across the Big Dipper—what more iconographically Alaskan scene can be imagined? Meanwhile, the green was balanced by Mars’ orange light, shining with the brightness of once in a thousand lifetimes!
Fog muffled the passage to Sitka, but as we arrived it lifted, and we saw Sitka glistening under clear skies. Through time, mingling layers of life have inhabited this western shore of Baranof Island, and we saw signs of many. First, perhaps, came the salmon. It is compelling to think that 12 thousand years ago, as the great ice sheets withdrew, leaving a new landscape, it may have been salmon, leaving the streams of their ancestors, that first fertilized the barren land with their spawned-out bodies. We saw salmon by the thousands, filling Indian Creek, jockeying for prime spawning ground. A rich stench hung in the air as we observed nature at its finest—sex and death liberally mingled! Alaska’s first people may have arrived not long after the salmon. Their descendants, the Tlingit, settled Sitka long ago, and are still here in force. We saw much of their beautiful art at two town museums. Later came Russians, pursuing the sea otter. They made Sitka their regional capitol, and built the cathedral, whose spires we saw towering gracefully into the blue sky. Just a few hundred feet away, the Russians officially handed over Alaska to the latest newcomers, the Americans. And the latest bit of Sitkan history was writ as travelers from the Sea Bird’s last Alaskan voyage of 2003 roamed town!
In the afternoon, we again traversed Peril Strait. Warm sun and clear skies made the outside decks thoroughly comfortable, and we were able to observe rare animal behavior in this part of the world—humans wearing shorts and sunglasses! We also spotted eagles, deer, and humpbacks so near that they practically grazed the sides of the ship.
Natural and cultural history make a fascinating blend, and both look best under sunny skies!
