Thursday, December 16, 2010
Sunday, December 12, 2010
Alaska Day 6 - Glacier Bay National Park
These pictures without a little crafting were flatly awful, so I spent the better part of three months taking pictures that looked like this…
...and turning them in to this:
So, aside from my other photographic work, this day and several other similar efforts are what took the bulk of the time I needed to get these done.
We got to Glacier Bay on a cloudy, dark, almost depressingly cold day. It was not a good day for picture-taking. These Alaskan glaciers are big, complex sheets of jagged blue ice. They have all sorts of textures, and because of that, they tend to have deep shadows, especially on a cloudy day.
Glacier Bay’s headquarters and lodge are somewhere just north of the little town of Gustavus, population 429. If you wanted to make a vacation of Glacier Bay, this is where you would find Beds and Breakfast, or maybe an Inn, or you could always stay at the Park’s Lodge. If you’re a glacier fan and want to get up close and personal with them, then a cruise is not for you. Staying in Gustavus or the park is. You can get a guide, charter a boat tour, or just hike on your own.
The area was discovered by Vancouver in the middle of the 18th Century, but it was completely frozen over and impassable and he skipped on past it. The entire area that is now Glacier Bay was covered in one giant sheet of jagged, earth shaping ice. The ice flows reached all the way out to the aptly named Icy Strait, 53 miles away from Margerie Glacier, our viewing stop for the day. What Vancouver couldn’t have known at the time was that this ice was actually in the process of melting (well before the Industrial Revolution). By 1907, the ice had receded all those miles to Tarr Inlet, and the Margerie Glacier is what remains of it. The glacier is still receding, letting those calved ice chunks off every so often. The sound of calving ice is like distant thunder, following a loud crack. It rolls over the water and engulfs the surroundings all around. Very majestic, and humbling.
Except actually photographing a calving is nearly impossible. The glacier itself is 2 miles wide at the mouth here where we viewed it. It's also hundreds of feet high. So you watch, you hear the boom, then of course sound travels slower than light so you don't know where to really find it and by the time you get your camera up, oh, you missed it. I feel very lucky I got anything at all of these events.
Glaciers are made of compressed ice, built up over a very long time. The glacier ice itself is compressed to the point that it reflects only azure or sky blue light. As the seasons changed, and the air warmed up, earth would stain the top of the glacial ice, then a new layer of ice would come the next winter. This gives glaciers a striated appearance.
After we spent an hour or so exploring the glacier, we turned about and headed back for the Gulf. And that was it for the camera on this day. Or so I thought. After we turned around I packed the gear away and we started getting ready for the second formal dinner night. On our way to the evening’s entertainment, I wandered out onto the deck of the ship, simply to see what could be seen. Shortly I was running back to the room for my rig. At Missy’s encouragement, mind you.
I looked out over the Gulf of Alaska and saw still waters below and parting clouds above. The sun was low in the sky, but obscured by a cloud. Below it, a brilliant orange reflection spread across the horizon in a narrow band right where the water meets the sky. The immediate background was darkening, so the effect was even more stunning. It was as compelling a sunset as I’ve seen, and my camera was 4 decks and half a ship away from me. I only heard “Go get…” By the time she got to “...your camera” I was in a full sprint back to my room. Happily, I got back in plenty of time.
Thursday, December 9, 2010
Alaska Day 5 - Skagway
At its birth, Skagway’s sudden appearance made it grim and lawless, full of gruff men prepping or returning from their 500 mile hike out the Chilkoot Trail to the goldfields in the Canadian Klondike region. Now, 110 years later, Skagway has become a great big Alaskan shopping Mall full of bright cheery vacationers. The Chilkoot Trail still exists, a 33 mile piece of it anyway, and hard core hikers use it for a recreational 3 day adventure. Modern Skagway stands as a blatant contrast to its past.
I thought Skagway would be a day of rest, really. Maybe some light shopping. Certainly plenty of picture taking… But, for the most part after the hectic day before in Juneau, it seemed like this would be a good day to just wander around.
You get off the ship and you’re greeted by vacationer graffiti made over the past few decades. Right at the bottom of our ramp was a big boulder stuck into the side of a mountain. It was painted blue, with the words:
“I’ve seen shops and mountains,
And roads that are pitty.
But now I must return
To my own home city.
When I get there I’ll tell them all
‘Skaguay is GREAT!’
I know ‘cause
I’ve been there
In ’78!”
The whole hillside is painted with these landmarks.
On past the walkway as we entered into Skagway, we were greeted by the Pullen Creek Fish Passage and Habitat Improvement Project, an extension of the Taiya Inlet Watershed meant to improve the habitat for the local salmon populations. My first trip here this water was teeming with salmon. I guess we were too early this time.
I didn’t know when I shot this old building what a prominent figure Jeff. Smith was in that past. I just thought it was a cool old building that has been preserved for over a century. But, the guy who operated this “Parlor” was a bit of a gentleman scoundrel. I’ll let you read about him here if you want, although I’ll have to say his funniest gag was selling $5 telegraph messages several years before telegraph service was actually set up for Skagway.
And really, what lawless, Wild West town full of desperate (in more ways than one) men would be complete without full service brothel? Seems every southeast Alaska town had one, and Skagway was no different.
This is the Red Onion, and an unknown tourist who looks none too happy to be part of my show. The Red Onion is now a simple tourist bar, again showing the contrast of modern sensibilities with those of the insulated and isolated untamed west around the turn of the last century.
This guy cracks me up… He almost looks guilty, doesn’t he?
Almost everywhere I went in Alaska there were dogs. Your own dog is a virtual requirement in these parts, it seems. I have plenty of dog pictures in these sets...
Puppies always seem to know how to work the crowd for a little extra attention...
I did a little walking off the beaten path and found surprisingly normal looking houses just a block away from the main street. Then there was a row of 1950’s Cadillacs parked alongside one of the streets, and no shortage of Alaskan pride. One odd thing I noticed is that the satellite dishes look like they’re pointed at the ground. I saw this everywhere up north. If you’re at the top of the planet you have to point your dishes downward to get a signal.
Shortly I met up with the crew, back over by the Days of ’98 theater on (aptly named) Broadway, the main drag in Skagway. While waiting there with Missy we met Charlie. A couple of shots of the building was all it took for Charlie to surmise my tourist status, so he began the sales pitch for a bus tour out the Klondike Highway, opposite the Skagway River, where on the opposite ridge rests what’s left of the White Pass & Yukon railroad, with its 3 and a half foot wide track and $100 per passenger tourist runs. Charlie’s a Seattle transplant, and spends his summers in Alaska working for the theater, where he sells tickets to shows, and the bus tours. I had no idea who this guy was, but, the more he talked to us, the friendlier he seemed, and the more interested in the trip I became. The bus was way better than the train. On the train, you can’t get off. The bus stops a few times. Bonus! Then there’s the fee, which was by comparison to other tours up there, a paltry $40 bucks… Another score! So why not? Well, Missy knew why not, and she and her mom went back to the ship for some R&R.
Pretty soon Charlie was writing up a ticket for Aunt Sharon and me.
I understand Missy and her mom caught a movie while Aunt Sharon and me shared the bus with another whole family of mom, dad, two rock throwing maniac pre-adolescent boys, and two older kids who just seemed way above this sort of kitschy touristy nonsense. One of them slept most of the trip. There's $40 well spent.
And a good decision to go it was it was once I settled that some horrible unplanned fate did not await us. My neurosis led me back across the street to the little cookie stand where earlier I had scarfed what easily has to be the world best chocolate chip cookies. The lady that ran the stand seemed trustworthy enough, and when she explained the rules of tourist engagement in Skagway, my little silly fears about returning late or being left for dead someone in western Canada were permanently laid to rest. I mean, if someone with cookie-making-skills like that vouches for Charlie, that’s good enough for me! And seriously, these were the best chocolate chip cookies I ever ate. Warm, gooey, still melting chocolate chips… Wow.
And so me, Aunt Sharon, and The Obnoxious Family piled in the bus driven by Dave, a player in the Days of 98 Theater who hangs out in the offseason and, of all things spends his Alaskan winters working construction…
We all headed north toward the Continental Divide and the Canadian border. You can imagine the scenery. And he did stop as promised, many more times than I anticipated, so you don’t have to completely imagine it. We saw Dall Sheep...
...Pitchfork Falls, which is actually runoff from a hilltop lake called “Goat Lake,” which provides all the electricity needed by Skagway and a neighboring town…
I thought Skagway would be a day of rest, really. Maybe some light shopping. Certainly plenty of picture taking… But, for the most part after the hectic day before in Juneau, it seemed like this would be a good day to just wander around.
You get off the ship and you’re greeted by vacationer graffiti made over the past few decades. Right at the bottom of our ramp was a big boulder stuck into the side of a mountain. It was painted blue, with the words:
“I’ve seen shops and mountains,
And roads that are pitty.
But now I must return
To my own home city.
When I get there I’ll tell them all
‘Skaguay is GREAT!’
I know ‘cause
I’ve been there
In ’78!”
The whole hillside is painted with these landmarks.
On past the walkway as we entered into Skagway, we were greeted by the Pullen Creek Fish Passage and Habitat Improvement Project, an extension of the Taiya Inlet Watershed meant to improve the habitat for the local salmon populations. My first trip here this water was teeming with salmon. I guess we were too early this time.
I didn’t know when I shot this old building what a prominent figure Jeff. Smith was in that past. I just thought it was a cool old building that has been preserved for over a century. But, the guy who operated this “Parlor” was a bit of a gentleman scoundrel. I’ll let you read about him here if you want, although I’ll have to say his funniest gag was selling $5 telegraph messages several years before telegraph service was actually set up for Skagway.
And really, what lawless, Wild West town full of desperate (in more ways than one) men would be complete without full service brothel? Seems every southeast Alaska town had one, and Skagway was no different.
This is the Red Onion, and an unknown tourist who looks none too happy to be part of my show. The Red Onion is now a simple tourist bar, again showing the contrast of modern sensibilities with those of the insulated and isolated untamed west around the turn of the last century.
This guy cracks me up… He almost looks guilty, doesn’t he?
Almost everywhere I went in Alaska there were dogs. Your own dog is a virtual requirement in these parts, it seems. I have plenty of dog pictures in these sets...
Puppies always seem to know how to work the crowd for a little extra attention...
I did a little walking off the beaten path and found surprisingly normal looking houses just a block away from the main street. Then there was a row of 1950’s Cadillacs parked alongside one of the streets, and no shortage of Alaskan pride. One odd thing I noticed is that the satellite dishes look like they’re pointed at the ground. I saw this everywhere up north. If you’re at the top of the planet you have to point your dishes downward to get a signal.
Shortly I met up with the crew, back over by the Days of ’98 theater on (aptly named) Broadway, the main drag in Skagway. While waiting there with Missy we met Charlie. A couple of shots of the building was all it took for Charlie to surmise my tourist status, so he began the sales pitch for a bus tour out the Klondike Highway, opposite the Skagway River, where on the opposite ridge rests what’s left of the White Pass & Yukon railroad, with its 3 and a half foot wide track and $100 per passenger tourist runs. Charlie’s a Seattle transplant, and spends his summers in Alaska working for the theater, where he sells tickets to shows, and the bus tours. I had no idea who this guy was, but, the more he talked to us, the friendlier he seemed, and the more interested in the trip I became. The bus was way better than the train. On the train, you can’t get off. The bus stops a few times. Bonus! Then there’s the fee, which was by comparison to other tours up there, a paltry $40 bucks… Another score! So why not? Well, Missy knew why not, and she and her mom went back to the ship for some R&R.
Pretty soon Charlie was writing up a ticket for Aunt Sharon and me.
I understand Missy and her mom caught a movie while Aunt Sharon and me shared the bus with another whole family of mom, dad, two rock throwing maniac pre-adolescent boys, and two older kids who just seemed way above this sort of kitschy touristy nonsense. One of them slept most of the trip. There's $40 well spent.
And a good decision to go it was it was once I settled that some horrible unplanned fate did not await us. My neurosis led me back across the street to the little cookie stand where earlier I had scarfed what easily has to be the world best chocolate chip cookies. The lady that ran the stand seemed trustworthy enough, and when she explained the rules of tourist engagement in Skagway, my little silly fears about returning late or being left for dead someone in western Canada were permanently laid to rest. I mean, if someone with cookie-making-skills like that vouches for Charlie, that’s good enough for me! And seriously, these were the best chocolate chip cookies I ever ate. Warm, gooey, still melting chocolate chips… Wow.
And so me, Aunt Sharon, and The Obnoxious Family piled in the bus driven by Dave, a player in the Days of 98 Theater who hangs out in the offseason and, of all things spends his Alaskan winters working construction…
We all headed north toward the Continental Divide and the Canadian border. You can imagine the scenery. And he did stop as promised, many more times than I anticipated, so you don’t have to completely imagine it. We saw Dall Sheep...
...Pitchfork Falls, which is actually runoff from a hilltop lake called “Goat Lake,” which provides all the electricity needed by Skagway and a neighboring town…
Then there was the Fairweather Fault, where we crossed the Moore’s Creek Bridge, a rare Single Point Cable Stay Cantilever Suspension Bridge, which is constructed such that if there is an Earthquake along the fault, the entire bridge structure will disconnect from the far side, saving it from collapse…
This was one of those moments where I saw the bridge approaching, and I one of my favorite photographic subjects is bridges, so I immediately started wishing we could stop. We drove over it, went on our way, and then Dave stopped right in the perfect spot for me to shoot. Of course I couldn't get off the bus fast enough.
Then there was the dichromatic Summit Lake, colored such because on half of it is full of glacial silt (pictured above). On the way back we stopped long enough for me to get a shot looking back northward along the Klondike Highway. Those poles off to the side of the road… Those are not lights. Those are guides for snow plows so they know where to go when the snow piles up, sometimes as high as these poles.
This was one of those moments where I saw the bridge approaching, and I one of my favorite photographic subjects is bridges, so I immediately started wishing we could stop. We drove over it, went on our way, and then Dave stopped right in the perfect spot for me to shoot. Of course I couldn't get off the bus fast enough.
Then there was the dichromatic Summit Lake, colored such because on half of it is full of glacial silt (pictured above). On the way back we stopped long enough for me to get a shot looking back northward along the Klondike Highway. Those poles off to the side of the road… Those are not lights. Those are guides for snow plows so they know where to go when the snow piles up, sometimes as high as these poles.
Thursday, December 2, 2010
Alaska Day 4 - Juneau
originally uploaded by jsevier14.
If you want to fork over huge amounts of cash, cruises offer bunches of prepaid tours. Again, using the logic that this would be a once-in-a-lifetime adventure, it would be easy to sign up for $1,000 worth. But, I just did the one, a “Photo Safari” in Juneau. Actually Missy signed me up for it. I probably wouldn’t have done it on my own, so Missy did it for me, while her mother, Aunt Sharon, and she took a whale watching tour.
The tour started out at Mendenhall Glacier, which is within the Juneau city limits. This was another repeat appearance for me, and I am sure it is obvious at this point I don’t mind that. All of these places bear a second look, certainly. And I am not particularly fond of dramatic declarations, but, when you pull into the parking area at Mendenall, you whip around a parking circle then BOOM, there it is, this massive sheet of ice slowly making it’s way into Mendenhall Lake. It’s truly breath-taking.
We had a nice group, one couple from not-too-far-away-from-home Louisville. The gentleman won the cone of shame I believe when he amused the tour guide by telling her he wanted to see a bear up close. She shared an experience with such an opportunity of her own that made the suggestion even more ridiculous. Seems she’s only still with us because one of her hiking companions was alert enough to carry Bear Spray, and even with that her party’s escape was narrow. Trust me people, cruisers do not want to see a bear up close. Bears want to be left alone.
Oh, well, anyway… The hike, yeah it was total awesomeness. Views of the ice, lots of local plant life, including Devil’s Club (pictured above). If you’d like an authentic Alaska souvenir, consider taking home a thorn from one of these little monster plants. Get one of these spines embedded in your skin and, well, that sucks. It is incredibly hard to remove and it hurts like crazy. You’ll see in the pictures how nasty sharp and long they are. So, we were warned to stay far far away from it. Well, we, except me. Stacy, the tour guide, told me I could do what I wanted, so I climbed right up there right underneath of it with my macro lens. And no I didn’t get a spine to take home with me. :)
So you look at this plant and think “DANGER, STAY AWAY” but believe it or not, to the natives this is an incredibly rich plant for human consumption, both as a medicine for treatment of Type II Diabetes, and also as a food, if you get to it before the shoots grow the prickly’s. A little butter, a little spice of choice… I’ll take their word for it that it tastes pretty good.
That was the first half of the tour, a hike on one of Mendenhall’s trails that ended by a road not to far from the parking lot, where we saw on one side a pond with a Beaver City constructed in it, and on the other, a bus waiting for us to pile on it so we could go catch some whales. Well, more like see and maybe photograph some whales, which turned out to be pretty hard. The water in Auke Bay was choppy, and the boat was moving most of the time. The pilot stopped a few times, but the choppy water still had us bobbing up and down. Then there was the small issue of whales staying submerged most of the time, only popping up for a few seconds, then disappearing again. Shooting whales requires more than a half hour on a boat. But, I managed to get a few anyway. They were “Bubble Net Feeding”, a relatively rare phenomenon where whales swim in a tightening circle, blowing bubbles upward below a school, somehow trapping them for at least a few seconds. The whales then open wide and swim upward, wiping out whole schools all at once. This makes them very happy, and playful, so they bob up and down, swat their tails on the water, and pat their fins.
And then just like that we turned around and headed back to the dock. On the way we found a raft of sea lions sun bathing on a buoy, which made for some fun pictures on the way back to the dock.
The tour would amount to half the day. I figured my companions would be craving some serious boat time after their tour, but no, they were up for the Mount Roberts Tramway ride up to the top of well, Mount Roberts where the featured attraction is a stunning panoramic view of the Gastineau Channel, of which I happily captured and will include in the final panorama set. Another hike back from the visitor’s center, and we found on the way a large cage with the beautiful “Lady Baltimore,” a bald eagle who survived a poaching attempt by shotgun in 2006. She was blinded in one eye, which makes her survival in the wild unlikely, so she’s kept in the cage and fed as much as an eagle can eat in return for giving all of us a close up look.
Go See Alaska Day 4 - Juneau here...
The tour started out at Mendenhall Glacier, which is within the Juneau city limits. This was another repeat appearance for me, and I am sure it is obvious at this point I don’t mind that. All of these places bear a second look, certainly. And I am not particularly fond of dramatic declarations, but, when you pull into the parking area at Mendenall, you whip around a parking circle then BOOM, there it is, this massive sheet of ice slowly making it’s way into Mendenhall Lake. It’s truly breath-taking.
We had a nice group, one couple from not-too-far-away-from-home Louisville. The gentleman won the cone of shame I believe when he amused the tour guide by telling her he wanted to see a bear up close. She shared an experience with such an opportunity of her own that made the suggestion even more ridiculous. Seems she’s only still with us because one of her hiking companions was alert enough to carry Bear Spray, and even with that her party’s escape was narrow. Trust me people, cruisers do not want to see a bear up close. Bears want to be left alone.
Oh, well, anyway… The hike, yeah it was total awesomeness. Views of the ice, lots of local plant life, including Devil’s Club (pictured above). If you’d like an authentic Alaska souvenir, consider taking home a thorn from one of these little monster plants. Get one of these spines embedded in your skin and, well, that sucks. It is incredibly hard to remove and it hurts like crazy. You’ll see in the pictures how nasty sharp and long they are. So, we were warned to stay far far away from it. Well, we, except me. Stacy, the tour guide, told me I could do what I wanted, so I climbed right up there right underneath of it with my macro lens. And no I didn’t get a spine to take home with me. :)
So you look at this plant and think “DANGER, STAY AWAY” but believe it or not, to the natives this is an incredibly rich plant for human consumption, both as a medicine for treatment of Type II Diabetes, and also as a food, if you get to it before the shoots grow the prickly’s. A little butter, a little spice of choice… I’ll take their word for it that it tastes pretty good.
That was the first half of the tour, a hike on one of Mendenhall’s trails that ended by a road not to far from the parking lot, where we saw on one side a pond with a Beaver City constructed in it, and on the other, a bus waiting for us to pile on it so we could go catch some whales. Well, more like see and maybe photograph some whales, which turned out to be pretty hard. The water in Auke Bay was choppy, and the boat was moving most of the time. The pilot stopped a few times, but the choppy water still had us bobbing up and down. Then there was the small issue of whales staying submerged most of the time, only popping up for a few seconds, then disappearing again. Shooting whales requires more than a half hour on a boat. But, I managed to get a few anyway. They were “Bubble Net Feeding”, a relatively rare phenomenon where whales swim in a tightening circle, blowing bubbles upward below a school, somehow trapping them for at least a few seconds. The whales then open wide and swim upward, wiping out whole schools all at once. This makes them very happy, and playful, so they bob up and down, swat their tails on the water, and pat their fins.
And then just like that we turned around and headed back to the dock. On the way we found a raft of sea lions sun bathing on a buoy, which made for some fun pictures on the way back to the dock.
The tour would amount to half the day. I figured my companions would be craving some serious boat time after their tour, but no, they were up for the Mount Roberts Tramway ride up to the top of well, Mount Roberts where the featured attraction is a stunning panoramic view of the Gastineau Channel, of which I happily captured and will include in the final panorama set. Another hike back from the visitor’s center, and we found on the way a large cage with the beautiful “Lady Baltimore,” a bald eagle who survived a poaching attempt by shotgun in 2006. She was blinded in one eye, which makes her survival in the wild unlikely, so she’s kept in the cage and fed as much as an eagle can eat in return for giving all of us a close up look.
Look close to our right just above the beak and you can see where her eye was gouged out. Shameful. But, she survived it, and she seems to thrive in her role as teacher for the rest of us.
Go See Alaska Day 4 - Juneau here...
Wednesday, November 24, 2010
Alaska Day 3 - Ketchikan
Okay well the ship is cool, and I really hated to leave the butter sculptures behind and all, but, early in the morning of the third day, much earlier than I would be waking up, we pulled alongside in Ketchikan. We were up in time for breakfast, and then for some inexplicable reason I had an urge to call into work, and spent several minutes salivating at the scenery below from the top deck after breakfast while I tried in vain to resolve some silly problem with our help desk. I was definitely ready to get my feet dirty.
We had sailed all night through the Reviliagigedo Channel, which is just north of the Georiga Strait. After that we entered the Tongass Narrows, a thin little passage where Ketchikan is located. Generally these little coastal towns are built where the fish are, and where the boats can get in, so a lot of them are land locked, which means you can only get to them by boat or plane. Ketchikan is such a town, and it’s loaded with Tlingit and Haida totem poles, including a replica of the Chief Johnson Totem, which stands 55’ high near the center of the city.
As the story goes, Chief Johnson, whose real first name was George, helped a tribe of natives move from Canada to a close by island after some sort of a dispute they had with the local church. There was a deserted village on Annette Island and for pointing the erstwhile natives in the right direction the made him honorary Chief, which required a totem for his front yard not too far where today’s replica stands. Totem poles were never meant to last forever, so the best that can be done now is a replica. Why it wasn’t the original 66’ in height I’ll never know. But, there it is in the set if you want to see it, all 55’ feet of it.
We hopped on the local $1 all day bus, which took us a ways up a hill and back into the town close to the Deer Creek Salmon hatchery, where close by I found a baseball field...
...then a Corvette sheltered by a surprisingly flimsy for Alaska car port, and the Totem Heritage Museum, which Missy and I visited the first time we were there. This time I went back with my Aunt Sharon for the short visit before getting back on the bus headed back into town where we walked along the Creek Street shops, through the old bordello houses that have been turned into small residences and shops. The creek churns below the street, and if you’re there later in the year like we were the first time, you’ll see lots of spent salmon and cats crawling around everywhere.
Too bad our time was so short. We were back on the ship by 1:30. I got the chance to shoot a lot, and talk with a storekeeper who told me this summer job selling cheap sweatshirts and jewelry to tourists is how he makes most of his living. The tourism industry is huge for the locals. I just wish I could have stayed longer.
Ketchikan - Home of Dolly’s House, where “The Odds are Good, but the Goods are Odd.”
Dolly’s didn’t make the initial cut, but she’ll be along with the rest later on for the hard core viewers who want to see all of what I got that’s worth showing.
So by 2pm we were back on the ship headed back out thru Clarence Strait, where hazy shooting conditions and compelling subject matter made for oddly difficult pictures to both shoot and process. And so an aimless walk back up the the bow of the ship revealed my first whale sighting of the trip. I managed to catch this tail just before it submerged back to the water...
And then it was gone...
Go see Alaska Day 3 - Ketchikan here…
We had sailed all night through the Reviliagigedo Channel, which is just north of the Georiga Strait. After that we entered the Tongass Narrows, a thin little passage where Ketchikan is located. Generally these little coastal towns are built where the fish are, and where the boats can get in, so a lot of them are land locked, which means you can only get to them by boat or plane. Ketchikan is such a town, and it’s loaded with Tlingit and Haida totem poles, including a replica of the Chief Johnson Totem, which stands 55’ high near the center of the city.
As the story goes, Chief Johnson, whose real first name was George, helped a tribe of natives move from Canada to a close by island after some sort of a dispute they had with the local church. There was a deserted village on Annette Island and for pointing the erstwhile natives in the right direction the made him honorary Chief, which required a totem for his front yard not too far where today’s replica stands. Totem poles were never meant to last forever, so the best that can be done now is a replica. Why it wasn’t the original 66’ in height I’ll never know. But, there it is in the set if you want to see it, all 55’ feet of it.
We hopped on the local $1 all day bus, which took us a ways up a hill and back into the town close to the Deer Creek Salmon hatchery, where close by I found a baseball field...
...then a Corvette sheltered by a surprisingly flimsy for Alaska car port, and the Totem Heritage Museum, which Missy and I visited the first time we were there. This time I went back with my Aunt Sharon for the short visit before getting back on the bus headed back into town where we walked along the Creek Street shops, through the old bordello houses that have been turned into small residences and shops. The creek churns below the street, and if you’re there later in the year like we were the first time, you’ll see lots of spent salmon and cats crawling around everywhere.
Too bad our time was so short. We were back on the ship by 1:30. I got the chance to shoot a lot, and talk with a storekeeper who told me this summer job selling cheap sweatshirts and jewelry to tourists is how he makes most of his living. The tourism industry is huge for the locals. I just wish I could have stayed longer.
Ketchikan - Home of Dolly’s House, where “The Odds are Good, but the Goods are Odd.”
Dolly’s didn’t make the initial cut, but she’ll be along with the rest later on for the hard core viewers who want to see all of what I got that’s worth showing.
So by 2pm we were back on the ship headed back out thru Clarence Strait, where hazy shooting conditions and compelling subject matter made for oddly difficult pictures to both shoot and process. And so an aimless walk back up the the bow of the ship revealed my first whale sighting of the trip. I managed to catch this tail just before it submerged back to the water...
And then it was gone...
Go see Alaska Day 3 - Ketchikan here…
Sunday, November 21, 2010
Alaska Day 2 - At Sea
Sun over Hecate Strait, British Columbia originally uploaded by jsevier14.
In order to sail to Alaska you have to traverse the space between Vancouver and the Dixon Entrance, where U.S. territory officially picks up. That’s not even the halfway point to the first stop, so Day 2 ends up being entirely on the ship.
It was a bit of a photographic letdown really. Even though the scenery outside is exotic and compelling in its own way, it gets a little monotonous, especially when considering the cloudy conditions that dominated most of the daylight. The day included a fair bit of non-photographic goofing off.
After the Day 1 sunset shooting wrapped up around 10pm the night before I managed to make it another two hours before collapsing in an exhausted heap. The movement of the ship through the water, and the open sliding glass doors letting all the peaceful sailing sounds from outside filled the room made deep slumber easy. Since midnight was really 3am to me, I managed to make it just 90 minutes shy of being up 24 straight hours, so this was almost the equivalent of an all-nighter.
So 8 hours later I was up and at ‘em, in time for breakfast, where I amazed my Aunt Sharon by slurping down a plateful of smoked salmon for breakfast. This, and many other things, was a bit of a culture shock. But she managed to deal, certainly. It was just new. “Fish for breakfast?” Oh yeah… Mmm…
While the ship was meandering it’s way through the Seymour Narrows I’d signed up for a ship tour given by an Assistant Cruise Director. Nice enough chap, but the reason I signed up for that gig was to get a look at this monster boat’s bridge. I’d had that experience before on the original Crown, which has since been sold off. No such luck on the Sapphire, a mild bummer, really. We got a tour of the bars and restaurants, and the shopping haunts. Waste of time? No. Highlight of the trip? Uh, no.
We had heard of some sort of presentation in the ship’s main auditorium, and we ended up leaving that one early. I’d thought it would be some sort of “look at all the cool stuff you can do in the port when we get there” deal, but it ended up being more of a listing of the money-spending opportunities.
We all sat there 20 minutes then the presenter said something about a “shopping emergency” and that was all it took for me to head out to find some free ice-cream.
And it stayed dreary outside most of the day, until the end of the afternoon, about the time I had to go get dressed for dinner. It cleared up enough to get a picture of sun shining over the Seymour Narrows monotony (pictured above), which was a fairly accurate representation of this slightly boring, very restful day.
If you found this and the pictures uneventful, that’s pretty much what happened. The pictures get better from here, because Day 3 is when the trip really begins. Stay tuned...
Go see Alaska Day 2 - At Sea here...
It was a bit of a photographic letdown really. Even though the scenery outside is exotic and compelling in its own way, it gets a little monotonous, especially when considering the cloudy conditions that dominated most of the daylight. The day included a fair bit of non-photographic goofing off.
After the Day 1 sunset shooting wrapped up around 10pm the night before I managed to make it another two hours before collapsing in an exhausted heap. The movement of the ship through the water, and the open sliding glass doors letting all the peaceful sailing sounds from outside filled the room made deep slumber easy. Since midnight was really 3am to me, I managed to make it just 90 minutes shy of being up 24 straight hours, so this was almost the equivalent of an all-nighter.
So 8 hours later I was up and at ‘em, in time for breakfast, where I amazed my Aunt Sharon by slurping down a plateful of smoked salmon for breakfast. This, and many other things, was a bit of a culture shock. But she managed to deal, certainly. It was just new. “Fish for breakfast?” Oh yeah… Mmm…
While the ship was meandering it’s way through the Seymour Narrows I’d signed up for a ship tour given by an Assistant Cruise Director. Nice enough chap, but the reason I signed up for that gig was to get a look at this monster boat’s bridge. I’d had that experience before on the original Crown, which has since been sold off. No such luck on the Sapphire, a mild bummer, really. We got a tour of the bars and restaurants, and the shopping haunts. Waste of time? No. Highlight of the trip? Uh, no.
We had heard of some sort of presentation in the ship’s main auditorium, and we ended up leaving that one early. I’d thought it would be some sort of “look at all the cool stuff you can do in the port when we get there” deal, but it ended up being more of a listing of the money-spending opportunities.
We all sat there 20 minutes then the presenter said something about a “shopping emergency” and that was all it took for me to head out to find some free ice-cream.
And it stayed dreary outside most of the day, until the end of the afternoon, about the time I had to go get dressed for dinner. It cleared up enough to get a picture of sun shining over the Seymour Narrows monotony (pictured above), which was a fairly accurate representation of this slightly boring, very restful day.
If you found this and the pictures uneventful, that’s pretty much what happened. The pictures get better from here, because Day 3 is when the trip really begins. Stay tuned...
Go see Alaska Day 2 - At Sea here...
Saturday, November 20, 2010
Alaska Day 1 - Vancouver
The first day of a cruise is mainly about getting you and your stuff to the boat on time, getting there, then getting a lecture about the difference between a “boat” and a “ship.” Whoops. Boats are much smaller than ships. Got it.
So, some absurdly early time on a Saturday morning came, like 5am or something… My early ambition for this day was simply to engineer as quickly as possible the cramming of two weeks worth of four people’s stuff into the trunk of my Aunt Sharon’s car so I could get into the backseat and take a nap. By 8am we were on our way to Minneapolis, where we’d connect and head on to Vancouver, B.C., which is in Canada so we had to go through Canadian customs. Customs means long lines, answering silly questions about fresh produce and firearms, then another long line, this time for U.S. customs because see the next time you set foot on dry land it will be back in the U.S. So let me get this straight… You get off the plane, go through Canadian customs, then you get on a bus, and then go through U.S. customs. Why couldn’t we just board in Seattle?
And so there we were, on the bus when we turned a corner and caught a full view of this massive ship, the Sapphire Princess. And my thought was “wow, that’s a big boat.” I mean it’s like a 95 story building (951 feet long) floating in water on it’s side. And so after the second trip though customs then yet another line for ticketing, we were on the ship, hanging out in one of the rooms waiting for the launch, which was, well, like a ship pulling out of port. When the announcement came I grabbed the rig and headed up to the top deck with Missy and her mother, where like any good obsessive amateur photographer, I immediately started shooting. After shove off and a mildly enthusiastic response from the big crowd, we were sailing through the Burrard Inlet, barely making it under the Lion’s Gate Bridge, which caused me to wonder what they do if the tide goes up… But we made it underneath the bridge, and sailed off into the Strait of Georgia, headed North to Alaska.
After the launch, we went and grabbed some chow, and that was about it for the ladies. By this time it’s almost 8pm, and Missy’s mom only had to announce that it was really more like 11pm to them before the yawning began. Not me, no way. I don’t go to bed that early even when I am sick.
So I grabbed the gear again, wished everyone a good night, and headed forward to the very front of the ship. The sky looked ready to give us a show and several people with big cameras and giant lenses were holed up alongside the running track, which was protected from the wind by panes of not quite clear enough smoked glass. I met a guy there from LA and after a few shots I invited him out front into the elements with me, which was immediately rejected by his wife. He stayed behind, and I compensated for my lens envy by being the only shooter outside. July or not, the Strait of Georgia at sunset, forward on a ship, is cold. But, I staked my spot bracing my body against the rail for handheld shots of the stunning deep yellow sunset, which finally gave way to brilliant twilight about 9:30 in the evening. That was 12:30am the next day to me.
Go see Alaska Day 1 - Vancouver here...
(Remember, I am only posting my top 14 images from each day until I get through Day 12. After that, I'll do a set just for panoramas, then I'll complete the rest of the sets.) http://www.flickr.com/photos/jeffsevier/5191962611/in/set-72157625306077905/lightbox/
So, some absurdly early time on a Saturday morning came, like 5am or something… My early ambition for this day was simply to engineer as quickly as possible the cramming of two weeks worth of four people’s stuff into the trunk of my Aunt Sharon’s car so I could get into the backseat and take a nap. By 8am we were on our way to Minneapolis, where we’d connect and head on to Vancouver, B.C., which is in Canada so we had to go through Canadian customs. Customs means long lines, answering silly questions about fresh produce and firearms, then another long line, this time for U.S. customs because see the next time you set foot on dry land it will be back in the U.S. So let me get this straight… You get off the plane, go through Canadian customs, then you get on a bus, and then go through U.S. customs. Why couldn’t we just board in Seattle?
And so there we were, on the bus when we turned a corner and caught a full view of this massive ship, the Sapphire Princess. And my thought was “wow, that’s a big boat.” I mean it’s like a 95 story building (951 feet long) floating in water on it’s side. And so after the second trip though customs then yet another line for ticketing, we were on the ship, hanging out in one of the rooms waiting for the launch, which was, well, like a ship pulling out of port. When the announcement came I grabbed the rig and headed up to the top deck with Missy and her mother, where like any good obsessive amateur photographer, I immediately started shooting. After shove off and a mildly enthusiastic response from the big crowd, we were sailing through the Burrard Inlet, barely making it under the Lion’s Gate Bridge, which caused me to wonder what they do if the tide goes up… But we made it underneath the bridge, and sailed off into the Strait of Georgia, headed North to Alaska.
After the launch, we went and grabbed some chow, and that was about it for the ladies. By this time it’s almost 8pm, and Missy’s mom only had to announce that it was really more like 11pm to them before the yawning began. Not me, no way. I don’t go to bed that early even when I am sick.
So I grabbed the gear again, wished everyone a good night, and headed forward to the very front of the ship. The sky looked ready to give us a show and several people with big cameras and giant lenses were holed up alongside the running track, which was protected from the wind by panes of not quite clear enough smoked glass. I met a guy there from LA and after a few shots I invited him out front into the elements with me, which was immediately rejected by his wife. He stayed behind, and I compensated for my lens envy by being the only shooter outside. July or not, the Strait of Georgia at sunset, forward on a ship, is cold. But, I staked my spot bracing my body against the rail for handheld shots of the stunning deep yellow sunset, which finally gave way to brilliant twilight about 9:30 in the evening. That was 12:30am the next day to me.
Go see Alaska Day 1 - Vancouver here...
(Remember, I am only posting my top 14 images from each day until I get through Day 12. After that, I'll do a set just for panoramas, then I'll complete the rest of the sets.) http://www.flickr.com/photos/jeffsevier/5191962611/in/set-72157625306077905/lightbox/
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On that trip, I shot 23 rolls of 35mm Kodak negative film. If you figure 37 pictures per roll, that added up to 851 pictures. I bagged a deal at Kroger, had them developed, and of those 851 pictures, exactly 1 of them was worth keeping. One.
So here on this trip I found myself nearly exactly in the same spot where that picture from the first trip was made. The first time I was there, we had a way better day for shooting. Crystal clear, bright blue sky, and if you strain, you will see the moon rising over the hills there. This time around in College Fjord, the sun was nowhere to be found. It was cloudier even than the day before at Glacier Bay.
College Fjord essentially two big glaciers, Harvard and Yale, then a bunch of little glaciers that mark the landscape as you cruise through the narrowed Port Wells arm off the sound.
The forest intermingles more with the glaciers here. Where Glacier Bay is relatively new in terms of geology, having been formed by recent melting of the glacial ice, College Fjord is much older. The coastline is heavily forested, except for the glacial paths, which long ago uprooted any growth that might have been there.
I spent this sightseeing trip on our own balcony. This turned out to be a much better shooting vantage point. Toward the end of our visit within a mile of Harvard Glacier, the ship’s captain executed a full 360 degree turn right in the middle of the sound. The turnabout made for a brilliant panorama opportunity, and I certainly took advantage of it. Because of the way I’ve chosen to upload these, with the best images in small groups first, the panoramas will have to wait until I am done with the entire trip. Stay tuned for that.
In the meantime, the dark cloudy conditions and later afternoon light brought the blue hues in the Harvard Glacier ice out a little bit more than Glacier Bay…
See all of Alaska Day 7 - College Fjord here...