Aug 18

Written by: michaela renee
8/18/2009 9:26 AM

As we approached the floating dock, a circa 1950 plane sat bobbing in the wicked waters of the Ketchikan harbor. The wind was blustering. I glanced around questioning our decision not to hunker down for the night and catch the Ferry in the morning. Then I caught the age of the other two passengers…circa World War II. Which gave me a sigh of relief and an air of doubt in the same breath.

As the pilot tossed our luggage up in the small aircraft my co-partner or PIC on this journey mentioned that it would be a bumpy ride in the Beaver. My “what did you just say” death glare prompted him to continue on. “This is a DeHavaland Beaver, Babe…these pilots are the best in the country.”

I crammed myself in the middle backseat, which offered me a nice view out of all the windows in the event of my untimely demise. I also considered that perhaps somehow if I was smashed comfortably in next to the two passengers in the backseat I wouldn’t feel the turbulence.

The old man to my left piped in after the pilot offered us a glance at the safety card with, “I just want to make sure this is the life jacket.”

That’s when I got nervous. The equipment in this aircraft was what someone my age would call “retro” at best. My nerves got the best of me, “Should we just go ahead and put on the life jackets now? Like a precautionary measure?”

The pilot didn’t waste any time with his response, “Nah, makes it incredibly difficult for me to get out if you guys are bobbing around in here.”

Classic.

PIC once again saw the fear in my eyes and also probably felt my death grip around his arm and said, “These planes are built for one thing, getting around the islands in this weather, they aren’t built to move fast, they’re built sturdy.”

The good news was, the GPS on the front panel was from my era. Phew.

As the plane ran on water my excitement took over and once we were skidding across the edges of the industrial fishing docks I got giddy. I was observant to everything the pilot was telling the passenger/co-pilot in the front seat and followed his fingers as he pointed to the waters, despite that I couldn’t hear I figured I’d be third in the plane to know if anything critical was about to happen.

When my eyes found the spot in the water directly across from his fingertips I saw it, a whale surfacing the tips of the inland waters. The plane continued to crest the edges of the rocky beaches and pine covered shores. I was lost in awe. As we made an about face PIC put up four fingers to indicate the amount of time left before we landed. Part of me was a bit sad.

That lasted all of two seconds when I realized that it was likely the plane would land the same way it took off…on the water.

Crap.

I clenched down on PIC’s bicep and once he again he offered words of encouragement. Being a pilot himself he was able to walk me through the whole process, pointing out things the pilot was doing to get us down safely. I didn’t even feel a chirp or a skip (standard with a typical plane landing) just the soft pillowy water underneath us.

“Nice landing! See Babe, that wasn’t that bad.” PIC offered to the pilot and myself simultaneously. As I precariously worked my way down the 3 metal rail stairs I carefully placed my bottom foot on the float of the plane to ensure I didn’t fall ass over end into the water in between the plane and the dock.

As the last old man deplaned and the final suitcase came off a lady hollered from the other end of the dock, “Are you ready for the fish?”

I thought she was talking to me for a second, when I saw the boxes and boxes of fresh salmon (coho) and halibut.

As I watched them pack the boxes into the small float plane my mind started buzzing with glorious mouth watering recipes, something you’d order at McCormick & Schmidt’s. So if it wasn’t on my bucket list before, it is now…reel in one of those big halibut fish like they do on the TV shows on Discovery Channel.

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We passed a town called Klawock on the journey from the float plane dock in Hollis to the town of Craig. As I stuttered to pronounce it, PIC said “KLAH, WOK.” The transport driver immediately piped in, with “Wanna know how that town got it’s name?”

Duh, of course I want to seem more smart to the locals and tourists alike!

“The aboriginals believe the raven is a sign of good luck, Klawock is the sound the ravens make.”

That was just about the coolest thing I’d ever heard, and then it became my sole goal to pronounce the town’s name sounding exactly like a raven. Once I was able to bawk out the name with perfect raven-like tonality I was able to move on to the next pearl the transport driver was ready to offer.

She continued to offer little tidbits of insight about the town and I got downright excited about our 10-day journey. We finally approached the town of Craig and as we approached the boat docks, PIC mentioned that Randy and Scooter were there waiting in the Suburban.

Scooter is the family’s Australian Sheppard, he’s adorable and brilliant, and I was glad he was joining us on the short jaunt to the Rainforest Lodge.

Randy filled us in on his recent catches, and some information about the tides and clamming as we started for the Lodge. I excitedly told him about the whale we saw from the plane and he mentioned it was likely a Humpback. I’ve seen Orcas at Seaworld, but definitely never a Humpack, combined with the float plane, made two “first” life experiences in under 24 hours.

The gravel road leading to Rainforest  is going to be paved in the next few months and I was excited to see it in the stage before the blacktop. We passed log cabins perched on the edge of the ocean and I began to ask questions. I learned that Craig is located on Prince Wales Island. The third largest of the islands in the continental US.

As we pulled up to the Rainforest Lodge I inhaled vacation. Here, in Craig Alaska, it was log cabin, mixed with good red wine, a glorious view of Port Saint Nicholas and was sprinkled with a little bit of rainforest drizzle.

Copyright ©2009 Michaela Renee

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