More From the Harbor

Bald eagles stake claim to the cannery on its iconic three-pronged spear.

Most of the fishing boats have classic local names.

Trident Seafoods Cannery

Monday night was steak night at the cannery cafeteria, so we headed down there with some new friends to enjoy their buffet. They have a salad bar, which is prime, because the only fresh green they have at the grocery store here is iceberg lettuce, which is literally iceberg lettuce, a little wilty when it thaws. Plus, does that white crunchy part hold any nutritional value whatsoever? The cannery reminds Sarah of her Prison Health Services days in Naples. In Anchorage, they say, "So you're headed down to Sand Point? You know, there's a girl behind every tree on that island!" The truth is that there are no trees in Sand Point--the winds are too high. Of course, that means that there aren't too many women around, either. The key is to just keep looking straight ahead. Sarah's dad taught her never, never, under any circumstances, to turn her head when she hears a whistle, and she feels like a stud walking with shoulders back and her knife in her back pocket, even though she looks pretty wimpy no matter what. Trident operates year-round, processing cod, Black cod, Halibut, Pollock, Salmon and other bottomfish. The facility can process up to 600,000 pounds of cod, 1.2 million pounds of pollock, or 350,000 pounds of salmon daily. Depending on the season, the Sand Point Trident plant employs 50-400 guys.

"Station 51, 10-4. KMG 365."

The town of Sand Point was still using this ambulance until just recently when a grant allowed them to get a new one. They use this one as a hearse now--so it's a good thing that it's dusty. It's just a little more modern than the rescue trucks from the days of Emergency!, so we thought we'd get our friend Rob Rodrigues dreaming about being part of the crew from station 51.

A Study In Blue

Sometimes it's not easy to differentiate between sky, land, and sea, since the clouds and fog blend all the blues. There's nothing like a mountain sneaking up on you when the fog lifts. 

Pictures Ain't Got No Sound

We know these videos take a while to upload, but this creek just sounded so much prettier than it looked.

"This is Ripley, last survivor of the Nostromo, signing off."

On the rocky shore, we found these incredibly long, slimy seaweed creatures. They were everywhere. We had been handling them and taking pictures like this for some time before we started to talk about that scene from Alien where you think Kane is fine and he's just sitting there eating spaghetti and then the alien explodes out of his stomach and goes screeching across the room...we kept imagining someone finding us after one of these had attached itself to our faces and laid its eggs down our throat. Turns out they were just friendly aliens, called Bull Kelp, that were useful for pulling each other up muddy hills.

Sunday Hike

Went out walking and found that every time we turned a corner, it just got more and more amazing. In the end, we found ourselves at the highest point with a 360 degree view. This day, it rained, hailed, snowed, and was perfectly clear with sun shining within a 3 hour period. The Adventure Guide To Coastal Alaska says that "the weather in the Aleutians is considered to be the worst in the world by meteorologists," but we like it just fine. 

Sand Point Clinic

This amazing building is just a few years old, and very well-equipped. Right now, we're both working out of it. Jim has a clinic with two operatories and basic supplies for this village, at least. He's just waiting on handpieces to arrive so he can get started. He doesn't have an assistant, and it seems no one at the clinic has really gotten used to the idea of having a dentist around (it has been years since they had a dentist for longer than a few days a year), so the other day this arsenal of while you were out notes began to grow on his cabinet. It seems he'll be his own secretary, assistant, and housekeeper (the other day, he was found on hands and knees cleaning crud out of every corner). He's like one of those poor carriage horses in downtown Charleston, though--you know when you say you feel sorry for them, they tell you that the work is the only thing that keeps them alive. If you've ever seen him mulch, you know Jim thrives when it's like this. By the way, on Monday, this old man in town called to leave a message "for the new dentist," saying, "when he's seein' patients, call me first thing, I'll come in right oft."

Home

We think our place is much nicer than it should be. We're on the top floor, this side of the building, and we look out over the town, the Pacific, the mountains and volcanoes. We don't spend much time here, and soon we'll be on our way to another village, but this will always be home base. When we think of an Alaskan home, we picture a cozy log cabin, like that earlier post of one up north on a frozen lake. But in the bush villages, they're all about utility. You don't see anything built for looks here. And no one really cares because the best part is not what you see when you look in the windows here, but what you see when you look out.

Eagle In the Alders, January Sunset, and Other Views

What We See

Every window in our home has a view of mountains and water. This one is from the main room.

Junkyard Eagle

Our new friend drove us down to the dump to see the bald eagles that congregate there. Eagles are found in abundance in the Aleutians, and we have seen at least fifty of them in our three days here. In the late 20th century, the species was on the brink of extinction. After being classified as "endangered," then reclassified as "threatened," it now has a stable population and was entirely delisted by the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service in 2007. The bald eagle has a wingspan of 72-96 inches, can reach speeds of 35-44 miles per hour, and has been recorded flying with a 15-pound mule deer fawn in its powerful talons. Around here, people keep their small pets near due to the threat of those talons--too bad, we'd love to see an eagle carrying a teacup poodle over the Alaskan tundra.

The Locals and the Language

About half of the people on the island are of Aleut descent, mostly from the Qagan Tayagungin tribe. The only other natives have Slavic names (our phonebook has more Bourdukof-

sky's, Kosbruk's, and Pestrikoff's than Smith's, Jones' and Brown's combined). We're learning a few Aleut phrases--our first was the most important: "Txin Yaxtakuq" (I love you). Click here to hear an old Aleut woman's pronunciation of it.

Mossy Hill

This view is near Red Cove. The hills are covered with spongy red moss--it feels like walking on a bed mattress (not that we ever do that), and you have to hold your hands out when you walk to balance yourself. It would be nice to sleep on when it isn't wet (which is never), but we're pretty sure it wouldn't pass the Tempur-Pedic glass-of-red-wine test.

Shane: Tour Guide and Friend

Our first evening, we went down to the AC grocery (Alaska Commercial Co.), where we met the Chief of Police, Joe, and his deputy, Shane. We live in a quad-plex here with other health care workers and law enforcement, so the deputy is our neighbor. The next morning, there was a knock on our door, and it was Shane wanting to show us around the island. He took us from end to end (Sarah's view from the caged back seat of the truck wasn't so great, but she did stir up the interest of the locals sitting back there). Here we are getting gas down at the city docks. 

Welcome To Sand Point, Alaska

Popof (pronounced pop-ahv) Island is in a group of Eastern Aleutian Islands called the Shumagins. Sand Point is the only town on the island, and is located on its northwest coast. The island is 10 miles long, and 5 miles wide.

PenAir: The Spirit of Alaska

Flying PenAir down on the largest craft in their fleet (also the largest to carry us anywhere from here on out), a 30-seater Saab 340, was an easy ride. We stopped in Cold Bay to drop off some passengers (and all got out to have coffee, use the local facilities, and get a view of the town [pop. 88]--until a ground controller poked her head around the corner and yelled, "hey, you two going on up to Sand Point or staying here?" and we got back on), then up to Sand Point where we made this smooth landing on their state-of-the-art 1 mile x 150 ft runway jutting out into the sea. Sarah carried her new Gerber Obsidian pocket knife on the plane (bush flights don't go through security), and we decided we believe in PenAir's slogan: the spirit of Alaska is alive and well in that airline, and we're proud to be a part of it.

All This AND She Can Burp the Alphabet

Laura's analysis of the soup was in an email response and is copied here: "I'm sleepy but as I initialed Reid's behavior chart, picked up Sarah Mia's now fuzz-covered-and-no-longer-sticky collection and checked on Lollybear and her ear infection one last time for the night I REMEMBERED! Bobo said that there was a picture of the soup and I never checked on it! How could I have forgotten...So, here's my theory: the color of the soup has a yellow hue which no amount of cream would cause (it would turn pink) so there are several amazing ingredients that could cause the lightening of color: roasted and peeled sweet yellow peppers, a large quantity of sauteed shallots or vidalia onions (although both greatly sweetened and having their 'bite' much lessened by the saute, the shallots would lend a generally softer hint of carmelized earthiness), or peeled and oven roasted or boiled (although boiled will be more grainy) yukon gold potatoes. All of these or a little bit of each would be great. In the past I've always added any leftover, several day old long grain jasmine rice to my tomato soup--the starch adds a less fattening creaminess to the soup, especially if you take out half of the soup after adding the rice, process it in the blender and add it back to the simmering pot. More thoughts for the bulk of the soup would be to add stewed or fire-roasted tomatoes (Wal-mart even sells them in a can!)--most cream based soups use some variation of half and half, heavy whipping cream or evaporated milk...after carmelizing your shallot, oven roasting the yellow peppers, and adding at least 28 oz. of fire roasted tomatoes, I would add a small amount, 1/4c. -1/2c. cream followed by enough chicken broth to thin the soup to your desired consistency. For the pesto cream, I'd make a pesto out of cashews, pine nuts or walnuts, adding fresh basil, olive oil, and a small clove of fresh garlic. To make the cream, I would combine 1 Tbsp. of the pesto mixture and blend it with sour cream, plain greek yogurt or whipping cream. Before adding the cream pesto, taste the soup for salt, but don't add too much pepper, and tell me how it works out..."

Snow City Cafe: Scientists Say...

This photo of a half-eaten bowl of Snow City Cafe's soup doesn't do justice to its tastiness. It's called Cream of Tomato with Swirl of Pesto Cream, and we're posting a picture here so Sarah's ingeniously creative, gourmet-cooking, kid-raising, cubby-teaching frontierswoman of a sister, Laura, can use her superwoman eyes to find out what it's made of. We're betting she'll call us within a few minutes with a detailed description of all the possibilities (just when telling her on the phone that there were chunks of something almost meaty in it, she suggested the "texture of a good stewed tomato or maybe ground portabello mushroom"), then concoct her own version and overnight it to Alaska in a thermos. As Sarah Mia would say, "Glo-ry, hallelujah."

Mush!

Not your typical Mommy-car.

McKinley = Big

 McDonalds: Local blubber outfitters. Who needs a $300 jacket when you can get that extra layer of warmth for only $6.09?

Alces alces Update

We realize this photo of a young female moose is sort of Loch ness-y (as in digitally enhanced), but it continues to fascinate us that as we were walking in the park, a few minutes after seeing the droppings (we call that photo Frozen Moose Droppings at Sunset on the Gulf of Alaska) we looked up the hill to see this silhouetted moose awkwardly making her way down.

The Lucky Wishbone

We ended the night of excitement at the Lucky Wishbone, where they are so proud to serve "pan-fried chicken" that is flown fresh daily from Seattle. Here, we went over and over the moments of uncertainty on the icy highway. We had a lot to talk about, namely the truth that "luck" had played no part in the outcome of our day. 

Aforementioned Unexpected Stop in Willow

We were hesitant to post this particular exploit until its circumstances had been explained in full to our mothers. Bebe and Kathy were much less excited about it than they would have been if they had seen the incident with their own eyes, which was surely a good thing. 

The weather has been curious, even to Alaskans, ever since we got here. The day we arrived, we heard about a "heat wave" on the radio...it was negative 15 degrees. It had been in the negative 30s in the days before, and within four days of our arrival, temps were in the mid 40s, a 70 degree change in a week's time. That made things messy--roads that were frozen and had a few inches of snow on top melted during the day and froze up again at night. The day we drove to Talkeetna to see Denali was the warmest day, and the roads were dry from Anchorage to Wasilla. After that (from Wasilla, through Willow, Houston, and Talkeetna) they were slushy, and the weather lady was calling for freezing temps that night. We said to ourselves that as long as we got back to Wasilla by 5 pm, we would be fine. 

We were just motoring along the two-lane, twenty minutes from Wasilla, listening to George Stanford and Ani Difranco broadcasted from Mountain Stage on KTNA 88.9, enjoying the reflective pink glow of the setting sun on the snow. At 4:30 pm, during a small argument pertaining to the fact that Sarah had left her retainer at home when she was supposed to be wearing it all day (Jim can't get enough of that lisp), at about 55 mph, we hit a good stretch of African-American ice (when Sarah told Charley about the "black ice," he was offended, and suggested this amended term). Sarah tells a wildly different version of the story than Jim from this point, as she sees every situation either through the lens of a camera or on the written page, but the general consensus is that for some time, we skidded across the ice at the same speed we had been driving, veering into oncoming traffic (or where such traffic would have been but for Providence), then spinning a complete 360 degrees at the same speed and ending up skidding in reverse in our lane again, still at what felt like the same speed we had been driving. 

When we first began to lose control, Jim said calmly, "okay" (with the attitude that this was a situation of which he would gain control). By the time we began to spin, Sarah looked over at Jim and saw a wild look in his eyes, and a bit amped-up, he said again, almost asking "o-kay?" After a few seconds in reverse, we spun around again and were headed in reverse off the edge (of the unknown). This time, Jim looked Sarah dead in the eyes and, with a knowing look of there being nothing in the world that could be done to change the circumstance, said concedingly, "oka-ay!" The crucial question in our minds was whether we were to be airborne or wrapped around a tree. It must be said that Jim operated throughout with great mastery of the vehicle and an astounding sense of calm.

Our question was quickly answered by the (quite graceful) instant halting of the car, which had backed, with quite a thud, into a very deep snowbank off the edge of the road. Big Dale Sandstrom (of Sandstrom & Sons Inc., Wasilla--Specializing in Piledriving) was happening by on his way home and graciously stopped to give us a ride back to the station in Willow.

We are thankful that this happened for several reasons, not the least of which was our getting to know Mr. Sandstrom the saint, Deb the cashier at the station (who fed us deep-fried halibut she caught the day before, and, in between long drags on that Misty cigarette, told us the story of her husband's recent bear hunt in which he shot a female grizzly who "thank God her nipples was all dried up--couldn't have no cubs no more--we's havin' her rugged and skull bleached--got it at the house right now"), and Tom the tow-truck man, who told us to "quit fussin'" over making him come all the way from home to dig us out of a ditch.

Anchorage Sunset

We found a place to watch the sunset (at 4 pm), from Earthquake Park (named for the 1964 Good Friday Earthquake, mag. 9.2). The tidal inlet in our picture is Knik Arm. Jim is standing next to a chunk of ice on the beach (that looks like a profile of mohawked-Magua from Last of the Mohicans) in the top picture.

Susan Butcher Was Here

Don't know how well you can see her writing on the shirt, but Susan Butcher was an American dog musher, the second woman to win the Iditarod in 1986 (later, she was the first person to win four out of five races in a row). She said, "I do not know the word 'quit.' Either I never did, or I have abolished it."

Talkeetna Roadhouse

In Talkeetna, we ended up at The Roadhouse, where we had coffee and read the Talkeetna Good Times. There was a great old upright in the corner, and they turned off the music and let Sarah play. Not only do the Susitna, Chulitna, and Talkeetna Rivers all meet at Talkeetna (fishing's kind of a big deal there as you can imagine), but it is "town" for Denali climbers--so there are things all over the walls signed by people who've 

summited it, flags they took to the top with them, pictures of them at 20,000 feet. The painting over the piano is of the Alaska Range.

On The Way To Denali

Saw this cabin on the way, and can only imagine its view during the summer. For a couple hours, every frozen lake we saw had fog hovering over it.

This dog was trampling across the snow covered field and kept falling in (snow was about 2 feet deep)--like watching a dog play in the tide, wading when it goes out and paddling when it comes in. That's Denali in the background. The mountain is so huge, it generates its own weather. 

Denali is the highest mountain peak in North America. Though it doesn't even make the top 100 list in the world, it has an actual vertical rise of 18,000 feet (Mt. Everest, earth's highest mountain, gets a head start at about 17,000 feet above sea level and has an actual rise of only about 12,000 feet). So, it's a really tall mountain.

The Great One

We took a day trip from Anchorage to Talkeetna, stopping in Wasilla to check out the local thrift and go to the Gun show at Governor Palin's alma mater, Wasilla High School, and later making an unexpected "stop" in Willow. This area, bordered by the Chugach Mountains, the Talkeetna Mountains, and the Alaska Range, is called the Mat-Su Valley. Our aim was to get a better look at Mt. McKinley, or Denali ("The Great One"). We had seen small glimpses of it through the clouds from Anchorage, but during our drive in its direction, we kept seeing mountains in the distance and saying, "Is that it?--Oh, maybe that's it?--Do you think it could be that one?" But when we came around a corner, close to Talkeetna, and saw this (pictured), we gasped at its magnificence. In its enormity, Denali could at first be mistaken for a cloud. We were reminded of Sheldon Vanauken's words on "genuine inloveness," written in A Severe Mercy: "One who has never been in love might mistake either infatuation or a mixture of affection and attraction for being in love. But when the 'real thing' happens, there is no doubt. A man in the jungle at night, as someone said, may suppose a hyena's growl to be a lion's; but when he hears the lion's growl, he knows full well it's a lion. So with the genuine inloveness." And so with the breathtaking sight of Denali. Once we'd seen it, there was no wondering whether it was the one.

Alaska Aces ECHL Hockey

The Alaska Aces played the Victoria Salmon Kings at Sullivan Arena in Anchorage. Victoria was on a 15 game winning streak, and Alaska beat them in a shoot-out with goalie Marek Schwarz as MVP. 

Fur Trapper Hats

Jim's is wolf, Sarah's is 

wolverine.

Speaking of Moose...

The other morning, we were driving through a quiet Anchorage neighborhood looking at houses when we saw this. Jim was driving for the best angle, and Sarah was hanging out of the window of our car with the camera. We felt like we were on a National Geographic expedition photo shoot. Except for the plastic garbage cans, and the fact that we were in a rented Chevy Malibu.

The Moose's Tooth

The Moose's Tooth makes excellent pizza, brews their own beer (with great names like Pipeline Stout, Polar Pale Ale, and Northern Light Amber), and is right across the street from our digs. We can't get enough. We also went to their sister restaurant, Bear Tooth Grill, last night, which was almost as good.

The Salvation Army Anchorage: Doing The Most Good

No seriously, Sarah has an eye for these things, but we really scored this time: A Patagonia vest ($4), and an Arc T'eryx jacket ($8). Reminded us of the Goodwill stores in Maine--people don't buy and donate Old Navy fleece there, either. And the eyewear selection was all the rage, too.

Anchorage: The Big City

We're in Anchorage for two weeks while Jim orders all the dental equipment he needs and Sarah meets with village providers (physicians who make a trip to the Aleutians two days a year). This will be the last bit of civilization as we know it for quite some time. You can see the Chugach Mountains (pictured here from Alaska Route 1, Glenn Highway) from almost everywhere in Anchorage. They do the World Extreme Skiing Championships annually in the Chugach. Even though their highest peak is less than 14,000 ft.,  being at the edge of the Gulf of Alaska, there is more snowfall in the Chugach than anywhere else in the world--over 600 inches a year.

Why We're Here

We moved to Alaska to work as Dentist and Nurse for Eastern Aleutian Tribes in the remote Aleutian Islands. Based out of Sand Point on Popof Island, we will be traveling to several villages, including Akutan, Adak, Cold Bay, False Pass, Nelson's Lagoon, and King Cove. We'll fly to each island and stay as long as it takes for Jim to provide dental care for every villager. Meanwhile, Sarah will be caring for diabetics and teaching about nutrition with many of the same and other villagers. The need in these areas is incredible and we feel honored to get to be a part of improving the quality of life of the people here. Oh, and we won't be surprised if we find the greatest improvement in our own.

The Aleutian Chain

The Aleutian Islands are a chain of more than 300 small volcanic islands forming an arc in the Northern Pacific Ocean, extending westward from the Alaska Peninsula. They are the westernmost part of the U.S. (Adak, Alaska is the westernmost town in the 50 states, by direction of travel), and by definition, also the easternmost (Semisopochnoi Island, Alaska is the easternmost point in all of U.S. territory, by longitude). Other names used to describe the chain include the "Alaskan Archipelago" and the "Alaskan Bush." The islands, with their 57 volcanoes, are in the northern part of the Pacific Ring of Fire. The Alaska Marine Highway passes through the islands.