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Excursions in Ketchikan had to be booked yesterday, but when we discovered that we would have to be off the ship by 7 AM, Bob suggested that we explore on our own and forego the tour of the town by bus, and a boat tour, once again suggesting abundant wildlife. Because the city prides itself on being the rain capital of Alaska, I agreed to a self guided visit.
How wise the decision proved to be! We awoke early enough to watch the ship maneuver its way into port, where the Westerdam was already ahead of us. Two coast guard boats armed with very visible machine guns scoured the harbor for whatever, or whoever, they look for when a ship is docking. We ate breakfast in the Garden Café in the stern, quite comfortable dressed only in our jeans and sweatshirts..JPG)
Off the ship at about 9:25. We stopped at the Visitors’ Center, where Bob asked Latu, the host, for a suggestion on how to spend our time in Ketchikan. He immediately recommended a visit to Creek Street, where spawning salmon “in the thousands” were swimming upriver to spawn. Latu was not exaggerating. The sight was unlike any I ever expect to see again in my lifetime.
As we learned at the Macauley Hatchery on Tuesday, salmon return to their origin to spawn. The Ketchikan salmon were climbing the fish ladder, reminding me of the only time I’ve ever seen fish trying to swim up the apron at the Corps of Engineers Lock & Dam in St. Paul – that was at least a decade ago, and I still wonder what kind of fish they were.
Here in Ketchikan, some of the salmon were trapped early in small tidal inlets, where they died. Others made it a little farther up the stream, where many more got caught in branches and rocks, and died from exhaustion or injury. The smell is very strong and somewhat unpleasant; with dead fish everywhere, it is not a sight for t.JPG)
hose who prefer their salmon fresh from the ocean, presented artfully on a dinner plate.
For us, the sight was remarkable. Our walking tour led us back down the hill to the souvenir shops, where Wells Fargo delivered some cash and we looked through the Alaska merchandise. Not being very good shoppers, we soon returned to the ship, among the few passengers without heavy plastic bags of merchandise.
Bob bought popcorn at a stand, where a handmade sign announced that the shop would be closing for the season tomorrow. Bob asked the woman who served us what she does in the winter. “Oh, we nurture the friendships we don’t have time for in the summer”, she said. Sounds like a plan.
How wise the decision proved to be! We awoke early enough to watch the ship maneuver its way into port, where the Westerdam was already ahead of us. Two coast guard boats armed with very visible machine guns scoured the harbor for whatever, or whoever, they look for when a ship is docking. We ate breakfast in the Garden Café in the stern, quite comfortable dressed only in our jeans and sweatshirts.
Off the ship at about 9:25. We stopped at the Visitors’ Center, where Bob asked Latu, the host, for a suggestion on how to spend our time in Ketchikan. He immediately recommended a visit to Creek Street, where spawning salmon “in the thousands” were swimming upriver to spawn. Latu was not exaggerating. The sight was unlike any I ever expect to see again in my lifetime.
As we learned at the Macauley Hatchery on Tuesday, salmon return to their origin to spawn. The Ketchikan salmon were climbing the fish ladder, reminding me of the only time I’ve ever seen fish trying to swim up the apron at the Corps of Engineers Lock & Dam in St. Paul – that was at least a decade ago, and I still wonder what kind of fish they were.
Here in Ketchikan, some of the salmon were trapped early in small tidal inlets, where they died. Others made it a little farther up the stream, where many more got caught in branches and rocks, and died from exhaustion or injury. The smell is very strong and somewhat unpleasant; with dead fish everywhere, it is not a sight for t
.JPG)
hose who prefer their salmon fresh from the ocean, presented artfully on a dinner plate.For us, the sight was remarkable. Our walking tour led us back down the hill to the souvenir shops, where Wells Fargo delivered some cash and we looked through the Alaska merchandise. Not being very good shoppers, we soon returned to the ship, among the few passengers without heavy plastic bags of merchandise.
Bob bought popcorn at a stand, where a handmade sign announced that the shop would be closing for the season tomorrow. Bob asked the woman who served us what she does in the winter. “Oh, we nurture the friendships we don’t have time for in the summer”, she said. Sounds like a plan.
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