Kodiak is an island several hundred miles southwest of Anchorage. It's a rather large island, the second largest in the country (I think the largest might be the Big Island in Hawaii but I'm not sure). From Anchorage it's a short flight of an hour, or a 4-6 hour drive to Homer and then a nine hour ferry ride to the island. Although it's large, there's only about 60 miles of road, or so I'm told. Most of the road runs more or less down the western coast. The main town is the town of Kodiak, located on the northwest side of the island. It has several thousand people, I was told 10,000 but I wouldn't be surprised if it was less than that. The main industry there is fishing and almost everyone has some kind of boat. There's salmon, of course, in the summer. King crab season is in the winter when the crabbers go out at night heading off to the cold, merciless Bering Sea. There's not a huge amount of tourism there, and the tourists who do come are typically the hunting and fishing types.
The climate is a temperate rainforest, just about as far from the desert southwest as you can get. But to give an idea of the scenery, the another temperate rainforest is Ireland. In the summer the mountains are a lush, rich green. There wasn't much growing in the winter, but that made it easier to hike and get around.
Besides the town of Kodiak, there are a handful of native villages on the island, most, if not all of which are only accessible by boat or float plane. The largest has a few hundred people and the smallest ones only a handful. I didn't get to visit any of these, but here's something about one of the smaller villages, Karluck.
In some ways, life is still harsh in Kodiak. Not so much so compared to how everyone lived a few generations ago, but by today's standards, it can be a bit grim. Tsunamis are a real danger there; so much so that they have tsunami alarms around town that are tested every week (every Wednesday at 2:00). Strong wilds are fairly common. In January there were a few days of hurricane force winds(90 m.p.h.). I wasn't there for that, but I'm told the windows in the buldings bowed in with the gusts, so much so that I think wooden boards were placed against them. Earthquakes are to be expected, although I didn't feel any while I was there. And there is always the danger of nearby volcanoes errupting and burying the island in ash. All of these natural disasters have, in fact occurred in the last 100 years.
The only place to buy clothes on the island besides thrift stores is Wal-Mart, and that has only been there for the last few years. There is a handful of fast food chains (yes, including McDonalds) and a few grocery stores. The food all has to be shipped in from mainland Alaska, at the closest, and so the cost of living is quite high.
The island is beautiful, but a very different beauty from my desert, landlocked home. It is a land of high, rocky cliffs, topped by towering, moss-laden Spruce trees, with a clear cold sea crashing below. Mountains soar straight from the ocean to a height of 3,000 ft. Vegetation grows anywhere it can -- on trees, rocks, even the roofs of houses! To some extent, events and schedules are still largely dictated by the weather. For example, no flights in or out of the island are ever guaranteed. Fog, wind or rain can all prevent planes from taking off and landing for several days. The main air strip on the island is not terribly long, and is bounded by water on both sides. Understandably, planes don't take off or land unless the pilot can see both ends of the airstrip.
It's a different world, to be sure. Even when compared to the rest of Alaska.
The climate is a temperate rainforest, just about as far from the desert southwest as you can get. But to give an idea of the scenery, the another temperate rainforest is Ireland. In the summer the mountains are a lush, rich green. There wasn't much growing in the winter, but that made it easier to hike and get around.
Besides the town of Kodiak, there are a handful of native villages on the island, most, if not all of which are only accessible by boat or float plane. The largest has a few hundred people and the smallest ones only a handful. I didn't get to visit any of these, but here's something about one of the smaller villages, Karluck.
In some ways, life is still harsh in Kodiak. Not so much so compared to how everyone lived a few generations ago, but by today's standards, it can be a bit grim. Tsunamis are a real danger there; so much so that they have tsunami alarms around town that are tested every week (every Wednesday at 2:00). Strong wilds are fairly common. In January there were a few days of hurricane force winds(90 m.p.h.). I wasn't there for that, but I'm told the windows in the buldings bowed in with the gusts, so much so that I think wooden boards were placed against them. Earthquakes are to be expected, although I didn't feel any while I was there. And there is always the danger of nearby volcanoes errupting and burying the island in ash. All of these natural disasters have, in fact occurred in the last 100 years.
The only place to buy clothes on the island besides thrift stores is Wal-Mart, and that has only been there for the last few years. There is a handful of fast food chains (yes, including McDonalds) and a few grocery stores. The food all has to be shipped in from mainland Alaska, at the closest, and so the cost of living is quite high.
The island is beautiful, but a very different beauty from my desert, landlocked home. It is a land of high, rocky cliffs, topped by towering, moss-laden Spruce trees, with a clear cold sea crashing below. Mountains soar straight from the ocean to a height of 3,000 ft. Vegetation grows anywhere it can -- on trees, rocks, even the roofs of houses! To some extent, events and schedules are still largely dictated by the weather. For example, no flights in or out of the island are ever guaranteed. Fog, wind or rain can all prevent planes from taking off and landing for several days. The main air strip on the island is not terribly long, and is bounded by water on both sides. Understandably, planes don't take off or land unless the pilot can see both ends of the airstrip.
It's a different world, to be sure. Even when compared to the rest of Alaska.
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home