ALASKA

What can I tell you about Alaska that you don’t already know? 

When I arrived here for the first time, Alaska was for me Tabula Rasa, something completely unknown. I had read a little about Alaska, but I didn’t really know anything about it. I discovered an area in the US that was not infected with political correctness; where the people are honest, decent, say what’s on their hearts, mean what they say and say what they mean, straight shooters. This was a pleasant surprise for me, after I had already given up on the American society I was used to meeting with on my many past visits to the USA until then.

I fell in love with Alaska at first sight. The endless expanses, the dense, lush forests and the majestic mountains, the surging rivers and the mighty glaciers, the thought-provoking totem poles and the tribal history - ancient and intriguing, stories of the gold rush and the points of Jewish interest which didn’t always show our people at their best. But that's how we are. There are among us both righteous and scammers, straight people and also cheaters, and so were they here in Alaska - for better and for worse. 

                    In the modern period there has been a connection between Alaska and the nascent State of Israel when Air Alaska planes were those that flew the Jews of Yemen who were airlifted en masse from Yemen to Israel during “Operation Magic Carpet." Also, Anchorage, the capital of Alaska, has had more Jewish mayors than any other city in the USA. 

Alaska is known as the Last Frontier. It says so on Alaskan license plates. That feeling was quite prominent throughout my visit. There is a harshness about Alaska. I felt it in all the places I visited: Ketchikan, Juneau, Skagway, Haines, Seward, and Anchorage. But it’s the harshness of honesty. It’s uncomplicated. Direct. Plain. Unambiguous. Alaska lives well with its multiculturalism. It’s not a melting pot. It doesn’t even try to be. Maybe that’s what makes Alaska so unlike the 48 states below. Acceptances of the other. Living alongside people of other cultures, albeit all American citizens, perhaps is what lends this sense to the people of Alaska. People in Alaska have all sorts of origins: Haida, Tlingit, Russian, Inuit as well as folks who’ve come up north from the other 49 states. It’s a wonderful picture puzzle of origins that creates a magnificent portrait. And they’re spread out all over this vast state. It’s so big that it is almost as large as all the 48 below Canada put together!

Oh, and the number of private planes in Alaska is larger than the amount of motor vehicles. How about that for a piece of trivia. That’s because so much of Alaska is not accessible by road. Just by air or by sea. Isn’t that unusual?

At the port of Ketchikan there’s a device that measures the amount of rain that has fallen since January 1. It’s their meter for what they call “Liquid Sunshine”. The joke around town tells of a traveler asking a local child “How long has it been raining here?” to which the child replied “I don’t know. I’m only 5.” 

I arrived in Ketchikan early on a misty, wet morning. I disembarked from the ship (my thoughts about cruising will come later on in the book) and walked past the many vendors of local tours. I had decided to explore – at least initially – on foot. I made my way first of all to Creek Street, probably the best known thoroughfare in Ketchikan. Actually, it’s a wooden bridge-like pathway alongside Ketchikan Creek, sometimes even an overhang over the creek. The most famous place on Creek Street is Dolly’s House. Today it’s a store but back in the days of the gold rush, it was Ketchikan’s premier brothel. What surprised me most of all about this establishment, is that it was closed down in (wait for it…) 1954! Until then it appears to have operated to service the desires of the hardy men of Alaska. 

Ketchikan’s primary industry is fishing and canning. Alaska, after all, is famous for its Sockeye Salmon – in my opinion there is no finer and tastier salmon than the deep pink-red sockeye. Walking along creek street, I leaned over the banister and watched as the salmon swam upstream to spawn. It really is quite an amazing thing. The salmon are born from eggs, make their way down the creek, out through the Tongass Narrows to the Pacific Ocean, and then when their remaining days are few, they find their way back to their birthplace to lay the eggs that will guarantee the next generation. How incredible is that? I have   

often been asked by both friends and strangers why I believe in God. My response is always the same. I  am an unusual believer. Things need to make sense to me. Without my belief in God, the world does not make sense to me. And this story of salmon is one of those things that make no sense to me unless some Creator set this phenomenon in motion way back whenever.

                    Once I completed my walk to Creek Street, I headed back to the port to hop a local bus that would take me to the village of Saxman, south of Ketchikan. My reason for going to Saxman was to see its totem pole park. Totem poles fascinate me. They are history and culture and social instruments all bound together in one tall wooden post. Totem poles are common among almost all the native first nations of the Pacific Northwest, even though they may/will differ in their design among tribes and bands and nations. For example, among the Haida, the top of the totem pole will always bear a depiction of a raven. According to Haida legend, the primordial Raven found himself alone one day on Rose Spit beach, on Haida Gwaii (formerly known as Queen Charlotte Islands). Suddenly, he saw an extraordinary clamshell at his feet, and protruding from it were a number of small creatures. The Raven coaxed them to leave the shell to join him in his wonderful world. Some were hesitant at first, but eventually, overcome by curiosity, they emerged from the partly open clamshell to become the first Haida. Well, that’s the very short version of the Haida creation legend. But it’s the reason why Haida totem poles will always have a raven at the top. 

At Saxman village, which is populated by members of the Tlingit nation, there is a totem pole park, with a collection of new and old historical totem poles. When I observed the poles in the park, I discovered that the Tlingit have a wonderful sense of humor. There is a pole in the park on top of which is a depiction of Abraham Lincoln, erstwhile President of the USA. Abraham Lincoln was a tall man. Very tall. 1.93 m or 6 foot 4 inches. Yet on the totem pole he appears with short legs. Almost a midget. I was surprised by this and asked one of the locals why this was so. Here’s the story I heard in response to my question. When the locals wished to create a totem pole in honor of President Lincoln they were shown a photograph of him. However, seeing as Lincoln was so tall, the photograph showed him only from the thighs up. The tribespeople thought that was the end of his body and that he was thus a short person. And so, the totem portrays him as having short legs.   

From the southern tip of Ketchikan, I hopped this bus again to the northern tip, to visit another totem park housing older totem poles. At Totem Bight Historical State Park, where the poles are much older, some have been restored to their former beauty, while other have been allowed to decay with age. 

Throughout Alaska there are ancient sites that have returned to nature. That’s a nice way of saying that they were abandoned, and with the passage of time, nature has overgrown and overcome them. This has happened to many totem poles throughout the state, as it has to many native villages. An interesting current phenomenon, is that descendants of the people who were forced to abandon those places, are now leading a movement to resuscitate the villages and allocate to them the historical respect to which they are entitled. Time will tell what and how much of this effort will bear fruit.

                    My final stop in Ketchikan was much further along Ketchikan Creek than I had been before, to where the salmon were still swimming upstream, but where they also became easy food for bears. While I had seen bears before when traveling through the Canadian Rockies, I had never seen bears catching salmon, and that’s what I hope I might be lucky enough to witness here. I waited a while, and then a while longer, until eventually I spotted a bear making its way out of the woods. Would he come to the creek in search of a meal? Turns out the wait was worth it. Slowly but surely the bear made its way to the waterside and then into the middle of the creek, where it stood, waiting patiently, watching. And then in a split second he lashed out with a paw and a lowered head and brought a really sizeable salmon out of the water. Unbelievable! What a show! I was completely mesmerized, astonished and honestly, quite shocked. It took me a little while to realize that I had been holding my breath! Once I had calmed down, I slowly stepped back and then made my way back to the bus for the ride back to the port.

Oh, about the driving versus sailing or flying, there are roads in Ketchikan. 31.3 miles of them if you drive from end to end without stopping. That’s why Ketchikan, a town with a population of some 8,050 residents in the summer, also has an international airport. It’s located on Gravina Island just across from the town. But the only way to get there is by… ferry. 

Happy landings!

After sailing overnight from Ketchikan, I arrived in Juneau, the capital of Alaska. A small city, rather than a town, where the State Capitol is located, Juneau’s population is some 32,000. Juneau too is landlocked in that there are no roads in or out of Juneau, but there are plenty roads to get about in the area. 

By the way, the whale in the picture above isn’t real. It’s a sculpture in Juneau, even though the main reason why I came here was to go whale watching. And it’s the first thing I did after stepping off the ship. The whale watching boats are mostly small craft docked in a little harbor north of the port. The city bus that I took to get there wound its way through town on its way north. Just before we arrived at the harbor from where the whale watching boats depart, I noticed a Bald Eagle, the national bird of the USA, perched on an electricity supply pole at the entrance to the harbor. I had never seen one before, so this was quite special. But, this being Alaska, I slowly became used to seeing these magnificent birds in numerous places, doing marvelous things as they swept across the water, soared into the sky, or dived down into their nests. I must say that this is a very majestic creature. It’s regal and stately and magnificent in its pride. No wonder the USA’s fathers decided that this would be their national bird.   

OK, back to the whales. We boarded our little boat (we were about 15 people in the group that signed up for this boat) plus the captain and another guide/naturalist who was to explain to us all about the whales that he hoped we would see if we were fortunate. Like a safari in Africa where there is no guarantee that all the animals you would like to see will in fact show themselves, so here too, you surely want to see whales, but it’s not sure at all that whales want to be seen. It’s a two-hour cruise into and around Auke Bay and there are lots of boats offering this service. At first we saw nothing. Then came dolphins. And more dolphins. And even more, so that it seemed we were in the middle of a huge shoal of these beautiful, happy, joyful creatures that skipped above and below the water alongside our boat. After a short while we broke away from them and sailed on. Far out in the bay we saw our first whale breaching. But it was far away, and very small. Yes, it was very exciting to witness, but a little disappointing to have been so far away. The guide explained that the way to know where the whales are is to seek a little spout of spray rising above the water’s surface. That’s usually a sign of a whale breathing beneath. We looked, and we saw the spouts and numerous whale tails, but no breaching. And then suddenly, without warning or spout, right alongside our boat, this massive, gargantuan, colossal behemoth erupted out of the water an arm’s length away. Everyone, but everyone – including the naturalist and the captain - yelled out is awe-struck surprise. OMG! I have never been so surprised in my life. And it’s BIG. B-I-G. Incredible! If you turn back a few pages, you’ll see what it looked like. That’s a WHOA! moment I’ll never forget. (I’ve been back to Alaska five times since that first trip, but I’ve never repeated that experience from so close up).   

After that nerve-shaking experience, coming back to land was a huge let-down. The only way to swiftly recover from a huge let down is to seek out a huge something else. For me, Mendenhall Glacier was that huge picker-upper. I walked to a bus stop on Juneau’s main drag and boarded a bus to the Mendenhall Glacier Visitors’ Center. From there it was a short walk to Mendenhall Lake, and then around the lake to get close up to the massive Mendenhall Glacier. Compared to other glaciers in Alaska, the Mendenhall is not particularly large, a mere 18 kilometers long. Nevertheless, when we puny humans stand close by, it istruly colossal. 

I wrote about glaciers in my previous book but let me recap briefly. Glaciers are enormous things. And they are very thick, something between 100 to 300 meters thick. So, figure this one out. 18 kilometers long, about 4 kilometers wide and 300 meters thick. All ice. And it moves. All the time. It never stops moving. Constantly creeping. And most glaciers never stop growing or replenishing. This really is a very, very impressive sight. This is nature at its most awesome. Strong. Muscular. Powerful. If you’re feeling down, the sight of this will pick you up. 

Then it was back to the ship and anchors away.

Of all the places in Alaska that I have visited, Skagway is my favorite. If there were no cars on the streets, Skagway would look like it’s still in the old west. The sidewalks are made of wooden planks. The storefronts – actually almost all the stores – are also made of wood. The style is old western, and were it nor for modern clothing, and the fact that over 5,000 tourists per day arrive here in the summer months, this town could look as if it were frozen in time. 

Skagway was the last place that the intrepid gold diggers of the Yukon Gold Rush met civilization. From here on and into the Yukon gold fields they were all on their own, with perhaps their donkeys to keep them company. Everything they owned and they needed for the months (and years?) to come, they had to carry on their backs over the mountains that tower over Skagway. Yup, this is truly, the last frontier. 

Skagway has a very small port which provides berthing facilities that can accommodate a maximum of 5 cruise ships daily. It’s approximately a ten minute brisk walk from the port into town. It was once less than that before the port was upgraded to enhance its capacity. Then it could handle only 2 ships daily and even that was a lot for a town, a hamlet really, that has a summertime population of 968 people in total. Obviously, the summer is the BIG tourist season here, and that income basically enables the town’s residents to survive the winter when hardly anyone remains behind. Skagway also has an airport to connect folks with the rest of the Alaska as well as with the lower 48. But the big story here is the history of the Yukon gold rush.

Seeing as this was the last stop where the ships that were carrying miners docked, many a resident at that time made their living selling supplies – spades, pick-axes, rope, mining materials and food – to the miners. As a matter of fact, more money was made selling to the miners than the miners, with very few exceptions, made digging for gold.

Being as it was a frontier town, it had its brothels and saloons, crooks and gangsters, conmen and preachers. The most famous shootout in Skagway’s history took place outside the Red Onion Saloon (today a Brothel Museum) between infamous conman Jefferson Randolph “Soapy” Smith and Frank Reid, a member of the vigilante group that was trying to rid the town of crooks and gangsters. Misfortune had it that they both shot each other at the same time. “soapy” Smith died instantly, while Frank Reid lingered another 12 days before passing away. They are both buried in the small historical cemetery located 2 kilometers out of town. 

One of the nicest sites, and best kept secrets, in Skagway is a beautiful waterfall than can only be accessed by foot, and by walking through the cemetery. So off I went for a little hike out of town, across the  railway lines, to the cemetery. There I came across the graves of the two gentlemen mentioned above, and from there through the numerous gravestones from yesteryear which tell such an interesting tale, and then to the waterfall where I sat down to have some lunch. Afterwards, it was a walk back to the main street, called Main Street, to carry on scouting out the town. One of the interesting stores I came across was a grocery that had products from all over the world. I asked the store owner as to the reason why he stocked foods from so many countries in this far-flung little town. He replied that many ships’ crew members come from all over the world, and they often seek some comfort food from home, he’s probably the only place in all of Alaska that can supply them. Talk about a niche market. 

  Another highlight in Skagway is the Gold Rush Museum that details that whole period, and right outside that is the White Pass and Yukon Railroad. I bought myself a ticket on what turned out to be a wonderful experience. This railroad runs from Skagway up White Pass and just across the Canadian border into the Yukon. No passport was required. The train hugs the very steep mountain side as it winds its way north and up into the mountains. It crosses many old wooden bridges and cuts through tunnels and the scenery is spectacular. These mountains climb steeply out of the fjords below. If fact, they are just the tops of subterranean mountains the bottoms of which are way down deep under the water. So, the view is across many snowy peaks, and between the mountains down into the fjords or the very deep valleys that the miners had to traverse in order to get to the Yukon, and once there to make their way by river and land to the city of Whitehorse, where most of the digging took place. 

That more or less summed up my day in Skagway, so it was back to the ship for dinner and a well-earned rest.

Rabbi Yosef and Rabbanit Esty Greenberg, the Chabad Shluchim in Anchorage head a very unusual Jewish community. First of all, it’s the northernmost Orthodox community in North America. Shabbat there can begin and end very early – in winter – or very late – in Summer. Unlike many people in Anchorage, they don’t leave during the winter, but remain at home to provide service to the Jewish community in the – literally – dark days of Alaska’s frozen season. Another interesting feature about Anchorage is that it has had probably more Jewish mayors than any other city in the USA. The Jewish community has a synagogue and school facility, as well as a Jewish Museum. That small and fascinating building has what is more than likely the most unusual exhibition in any Jewish museum anywhere in the world. It’s dedicated to the Aliyah to Israel of the Jews of Yemen in what became known as “Operation Magic Carpet.” OK, so what’s the question that everyone asks? In Alaska? What’s the connection? Well, turns out that the connection is historical and is still (or was when I was there on the first of my 4 visits to Anchorage) very strong. Turns out, for those who don’t know (and I didn’t when I first came to the museum) that the magic carpets of “Operation Magic Carpet” were aircraft that belonged to (drumroll) Alaska Airlines! Alaska Airlines was then a charter company that had a whole lot of aircraft, which were World War II vintage DC 3s, lying around with no work to do. The powers that be in Israel contacted them and offered them the job. Flights would go from Yemen to Asmara to refuel, and then from Asmara to Israel. The Arabs kicked up a hue and cry, made a big fuss, and the US authorities started to pressure Alaska Airlines to give up this job. But the folks at Alaska Airlines had a better idea. They moved their operations to Asmara (nowadays in Eritrea, then in Ethiopia, I think), changed their name to Asmara Airways, and continued until the job was done. That’s the stand-on-one-leg version of the story. Feel free to google it for more details.

So here I was with my first group to Alaska, and one of my guests comes to me and says that he came to Israel on Operation Magic Carpet. I informed the museum’s curator who then tells me that one of the pilots from that Operation Magic Carpet is still alive. She arranged a meeting between the two gentlemen, and although one spoke no English and the other spoke neither Hebrew nor Yemenite, the two of them managed to have a wonderful conversation. Between then and the time of this writing I learned that the pilot had died. I am confident that he had a cockpit seat on the flight to heaven.

Anchorage as a city is not particularly attractive, however its surroundings are spectacular. It’s an easy city in which to get about, downtown is walkable from end to end in about twenty minutes, and that is exactly what I did. Right at the western tip of the city I came to the Captain Cook Monument, dedicated to the famous explorer. From the tip of the garden in which the monument stands it’s possible to see Mount Denali (a.k.a Mount McKinley), the highest peak in North America. It’s about 150km away, so the air was incredibly clear.

My final recommendation for anyone visiting the city of Anchorage is to visit the city’s museum. It has a fabulous exhibit on the native tribes of Alaska, their beliefs and traditions, and their very unfortunate history, until their younger generations began to stand up for their native rights and renew their erstwhile traditions. It’s a beautiful exhibition. Very human, very moving, very emotional and completely captivating.

I left Alaska by plane, flying back to Vancouver. I took a cab from the city to the airport, really not expecting to find what I found there. Ted Stevens International Airport is located alongside Lake Hood, a large lake in the southwest of the city. Lake hood is the largest air-water-port (is that a real term?) in the world. There are over a thousand ski planes parked at Lake Hood Seaplane Base and 61,900 aircraft operations annually! Incredible!

My Alaska Airlines flight to Vancouver was uneventful. FYI, Alaska Airlines promises your luggage will be on the belt within 30 minutes of landing. They’re right. It was. Amazing.