Stepping off the plane in Petersburg, Alaska, I knew I was in for something unexpected. For the uninitiated, Alaska brings to mind vast snow-capped mountains, 24-hour daylight and cold winds even in summer. But Petersburg proved that even in a state with such a strong visual image, there are nuances that make individual cities truly unique.Petersburg is a lush green island filled with the kind of people you only read about in books. Inviting, interesting, caring (about each other and the environment), strong and resilient. You just don’t see that character combination very often in today’s world. The harbor in this fishing town is so real and authentic it resembles a great movie set . . . bustling with fishermen harvesting and preparing a variety of fish to feed the world. In many cases they are doing the same jobs carried out by their Norwegian ancestors more than a century ago.

In a world where big box retailers have reduced lots of small downtowns to ghost towns or collections of knick-knack shops, Petersburg is alive and vibrant. It’s not for show; it really serves its people! From a working hardware store to a pizza shop and from the public library to the laundromat, the town was buzzing with folks making a living and a life. Mixed in with the residents are visitors lucky enough to have the time to seek out this Alaskan gem. These visitors don’t want a plastic experience, they are here to breath in the energy of the real Alaska . . . America’s last frontier . . . and hopefully take a little of that back home.
One of the unexpected treats of our trip was the chance to watch a celebrity chef from Britain film a cooking show featuring king crab legs and halibut cheeks. Even the residents were excitedly snapping pictures. A bit of irony, he was cooking the bounty of the sea in the shadow of a monument to all the fishermen who’ve given their lives fishing in Petersburg.

On another day, we hopped on a small aluminum boat and headed out for a tour of Frederick Sound and the LeConte Glacier. Until then, I’d only seen photos of icebergs. We passed a group of sea lions resting on a channel buoy while our guide Stephen passionately talked about the ecosystem of the area. Then all at once there it was in the distance, quietly standing sentinel on a still sea. My first iceberg! It was more inspiring than I’d imagined and I found myself whispering as if not to wake it and break the spell. As our boat cruised on, we encountered more and more of the glowing goliaths, each one the color of a crystal blue sky. 

All these icebergs were carved out of the giant LeConte Glacier. The closer we got to the glacier, the more chunks of ice . . . large and small . . . were bumping into the hull of our boat (which was starting to seem pretty small and fragile). With a reassuring nod our guide directed our attention from the boat to the majestic glacier. Honestly, I just don’t have the words to describe this experience. But I can say that my heart was beating a hundred miles an hour. But the excitement of the glacier was only the tip of the iceberg (so to speak). Mayday! Mayday! One day while fishing on Frederick Sound, that alarm pierced the quiet Alaskan afternoon. I guess I didn’t appreciate the severity of the phrase until I heard it for real. We were finishing up a day with a local fishing guide, trying one last time to catch the one that got away. With a calm but direct tone our captain told us to “reel ‘em in; we’ve got a Mayday vessel taking on water.” We were the closest boat and had to go. In 30 seconds, we were full speed ahead to the coordinates given by the ship in peril. Our captain was not frantic but was definitely serious and deliberate. That code has real meaning in a place as wild as this.When we arrived, the boat was sitting low in the water. A small state trooper boat had arrived shortly before us, but it was going to be a heavy load for him to get all seven people off the failing vessel. As we pulled alongside, the six charter fisherman climbed aboard our boat, relieved to be dry and safe.

We headed back to Petersburg while the fishermen told the tale of a day they will never forget. When a great day of fishing was cut short due to a small pump failing and how reeling in a boat load of fish was replaced by bailing icy water out.My strongest memory is the way our captain approached the crisis with the calm strength so abundant in this wonderful wilderness. 
So how do you wrap up the story of a place that in the space of a week presents you with everything from glaciers and the quirky humor of a British chef to the best meal you’ve ever eaten and a daring rescue at sea? By saying that if you’re looking for unusual adventure, this is the destination for you. Ser deg senere!~ Kevin