Kalinin Bay down Salisbury Sound to Sitka

July 22 through 25, 2008: Sitka—Shee-Atika: people on the side of the Shee


Totem pole in Sitka’s National Historic Park

“Russ, there’s a space on the transient dock alongside the fishing boat Adirondack.” Frank calls our cell. Just in time we see it, slip in, and tie up.

Before we know it we’re at Frank and Gloria’s beautiful home on a hill with a million-dollar waterfront view dotted with islands and snowy Mt. Edgecumbe ensconced in mists on the horizon. It is grand central laundry, shower, fetch-Drew and-Lucy-from-the-airport night. Frank is spinning, cutting his treasure fish catch expertly into neat little steaks, acting as host and chauffer. Gloria is at ease attending to need.

Drew, our nephew is excited. 6ft 4in tall, approximately, with short dark hair and beautiful blue eyes, he is a pilot in the Air Force based in Philadelphia. Smart and quick with mischievous humour. Lucy is a nursing student at Shoreline Community College, an ex-Northwest Airline flight attendant with a degree in communications and economics(?). She is the apple of his eye. We’ve all converged for a sortie into the Alaskan wilderness. And start with rum, fresh fish, sticky rice, salad, wine, and more for the arrival dinner.

Sitka is situated on my favorite Alaskan island—Baranof—on the outer coast of the panhandle. The panhandle is a narrow stretch of land, islands, and waterway attached tenaciously to the western edge of British Columbia. The Tongass—a temperate rain forest—is the resting place for the city. You can feel the sea in the air, imagine its swell. Sitka, or Shee-Atika, means people on the side of the shee. This is how the Tlingit Indians describe themselves.

The Russians occupied Sitka in 1804 for 33 years until Alaska was sold in 1867. What remain of their Sitkan presence is the Russian Bishop’s House, some fort sites, the Orthodox Church, and shops with lacquered doll clusters and other Russian knick-knacks.


Russian Orthodox Church

Sitka prizes itself as culturally significant on the Alaskan front. 8000 years ago Mt. Edgecumbe erupted covering the Sound with ash. People moved north with the retreating Ice Age and the Tlingit Indians emerged to inhabit the area. Since we, the 21st century interlopers, have been in Sitka, the rain and mist has covered the volcano. The curtain lifts briefly for a peek. Then again enshrouds its beauty in timeless mystery. Not even a photograph for us transient salts. It is left to imagination.

The following morning we take in a day of meandering: a native dance performance in full regalia at the Sheet’ka Kwaan naa Khida Community House. Drew and Lucy stayed their hunger pangs with ice-cream treats. In lieu of the ever elusive borscht and piroshky we pursued without success, they had fish and chips. What else?


Fish skin jacket exhibit at Sheldon Jackson Museum

A walk to totem square, then up the to the Sheldon Jackson Museum with extraordinary exhibits of Eskimo; Aleut; Athabascan; and Northwest Coast Tlingit, Haida, and Tsimshian life. Finely stitched fish skin coats, one of the fantastic pieces. We strolled up along the Indian River through the National Historical Park, stopping at each totem, photographing working artisans.


Artisan’s work in progress

We’re tired out. Save some energy for Russ’ birthday dinner party tonight again at Frank and Glorias top-of-the-mark place of dining. A repeat of delectable fresh fish from Kalinen Bay’s cold waters. Chocolate cake and coffee ice-cream for desert. Their house guests join us this evening. An after-dinner piano concert is the cherry on the cultural experience top. I let my mind travel with the music to the Ice Age, to the cataclysmic eruption of Mt. Edgecumbe, to the Tlingit people’s emergence, to the Russian takeover, to the Tlinglit-Russian clashes at the Indian River, to the Alaskan sale, to the last note of Grieg’s piano music. I hold on to this moment in time, 800 miles from home through the water channels of the Inland Passage, with Shee-Atika—people on the side of the shee (sea).