I’ve been on these waters before. A number of times. With rain the surface is a flat gray, the surrounding landscapes a muted dark green. Today holds the promise of something different. The morning mists are with us, but thinning… Various shades of green peek through across the east flank of the mountains to port on Admiralty Island. Better, an occasional sunburst lights up the snow-capped crown of the coast ranges to starboard. It’s a matter of time…
Cape Fanshaw stands some 30 nautical miles behind us, the night’s passage out of Frederick Sound relegated to yesterday. The course is down the middle of the Stephens Passage until we approach Grand Island, a turn to the east before bending back west on approach to Pt. Arden. Here I start looking for Pt. Tantallon at the SE tip of Douglas Island…the start of the Gastineau Channel. And from there straight into the ship harbor at Juneau.
Today is different. At Holkham Bay we shift course to the NE and start working our way into Tracy Arm.
Tracy Arm – Fords Terror Wilderness. The terror part is ascribed to the unfortunate seaman Ford, who, in 1899, rowed a small dingy into the Endicott Fjord at the southern end of Tracy Arm on an ebb tide, only to discover (the hard way) the strong tidal influence present in Southeast while battling the flood tide as he tried to get back out. The Wilderness is managed by the National Forest Service as part of the Tongass National Forest: the Great Temperate Rainforest. At nearly 17 million acres, it is the largest national forest in the United States. Teddy Roosevelt established it as the Alexander Archipelago Forest Reserve in 1902. And the Alexander Archipelago? It is the expanse of islands, Chichagof Island at the north end, Prince of Wales Island at the south that make up “Southeast” Alaska.
Deeper into the Arm… The great granite walls…Yosemite on water. The granites are similar in age, composition, and appearance to those found in Yosemite; the sensation – floating on the surface of the long-drowned glacial valley – is somewhat disconcerting. So like Yosemite, yet so different. The light keeps changing. Misty Fjords National Monument is farther south in the archipelago, but misty skies and fjords are all over Southeast, and the now-clearing mists, great walls, blueing waters…I don’t think that Ansel Adams ever photographed the Arm, but I think he would find it worthy.
The Tongass people are found primarily in the southern portion of the archipelago, in and around Ketchikan. They comprise the Sea Lion Tribe of the Tlingit and have been here for millenia, as have their southerly and southeasterly neighbors: The Haida (locus in the Haida Gwaii Archipelago, or the Queen Charlotte Islands) and the Tsimshian (locus in the Prince Rupert and lower Skeena River area). Coastal Peoples all; the twin pillars of their lives are the Pacific and the great rainforest…
The islands number in five figures, but seem more numerous, the great forest draped over them. The fecundity of life in these waters and on these island astounds. The beaver and the otter are here, both mammalian and de Havilland, as the air and the ocean are your means of travel. With rare exception, if you seek the woods, you will either walk in or fly into a lake. Once there it is the closeness, the intimacy of the forest that is felt. At ground level the ferns delight, above you the trees enfold… In these woods are three principal players: Picea sitchensis, the Sitka Spruce; Tsuga heterophylla, the Western Hemlock; andThuja plicata, the Western Red-Cedar.
The world’s largest spruce, the Sitka, is found from the Mendocino Coast of California to the Kenai Peninsula. It is named for one of the most picturesque coastal towns anywhere, located on the west coast of Baranof Island. David Douglas (there’s that man again, look for him in two earlier posts: “A Winter’s Walk” and “Among Mighty Oaks”) introduced the tree to England in 1831; it is the most widely planted forest tree in the United Kingdom. Why? In large part because of its resilience under stress. It is no overstatement to say that the Sitka Spruce was central to the development of the first airplanes (it is still the wood of choice for home-built aircraft). Among the more famous aircraft built with Sitka Spruce are the de Havilland Mosquito (of WWII fame), and Howard Hughes’ great flying boat, the Spruce Goose.
The Western Hemlock occupies a similar range. Its etymology, not quite as transparent as that for the Sitka Spruce, is certainly interesting. When crushed, the foliage produces an odor similar to that of poison hemlock. No other relationship, no danger of hemlock poisoning… However, if you are not a mushroom expert, you might be careful around the base of the tree as it is well known for its symbiotic relationship with fungi. On the other hand, if you are good at chanterelle identification…
And then there is the Western Red-Cedar (which is not a cedar, but a member of the Cypress family). Also widespread through the Northwest, it’s a wondrous thing. We use it for exterior construction, in part because it is resistant to rot. We use it for interior construction for the same reason. The wood emits aromatic compounds that deter insects (hence the use in cedar chests). It’s been central to life for the Coastal Peoples for as long as they’ve been here, you can find it everywhere, but to grasp that centrality you need look no further than their totems…
Late morning. On a reciprocal bearing back down the Arm; we’ll make the Stephens Passage before long, and be in the Juneau ship harbor well before the long summer light fades. The mist has faded, the colors around us no longer muted. The green hues are strong, vibrant; the passage waters and the opening sky in complimentary deep blues. The great walls are lighter and ever-so-much like Yosemite. The passage is reached; a turn to starboard and our course is now northerly. But it’s not about direction…we’re sailing Southeast.
