AK-Day 25/26 Prince William Sound, Soldotna to Homer

AK-Day 25/26 Prince William Sound_Soldotna to Homer

Blustery Prince William Sound

Well my time in Alaska is winding down. I will miss the spunk of the locals, the beautiful vistas, the amazing wildlife to be found around every corner!! But truly it is time to get back home and see my wife and tend to the home for a while.

Did I mention that it is downright frigid here, with unseasonably cold weather. Anchorage and the Kenai Peninsula have been experiencing a cold blast that brought temperatures below 0. The up shot is that I had relatively clear weather for my flight into Prince William Sound. Often the Sound is shrouded in fog this time of year, unless a cold, high-pressure system clears it out. I scored another bush flight by signing on to take school portraits at the small settlements of Tatitlek and Chenega Bay. I was rewarded with a flight over the Chugach Mountains, Turnagain Arm, Kenai Peninsula, and finally Prince William Sound. The school district chartered this flight to fly their principal, science camp consultant, P.E. coordinator, a teacher, supplies for the next couple of weeks, and my whole photography studio. The little Navajo was close to its weight capacity, so the pilot opted to follow Turnagain Arm and over a pass rather than fly straight over the mountains to Prince William Sound.

Sunrise over Turnagain Arm

Props to Prince William Sound

An Avalanche waiting to happen

I snapped away savoring the co-pilot seat as we made our way towards Prince William Sound. The only obstacle to good shots seemed to be the props on either side of the plane. A wonderland of glaciers, mountains and an early morning sky lit the landscapes beautifully. While I could rest now on the plane and enjoy the scenery, I knew that once I landed it would be wide open to setup, photograph the school, and pack up and be back to the landing strip at Tatitlek in less than two hours. The principal only seemed interested in making conversation with me around the fact that I must make haste. I told him not to worry, I would be the king of efficiency. The science consultant, Alan, and the P.E. coordinator, Kirstin both helped me organize the students or setup/pack-up my gear. Even with the speedy schedule I was able to do a nice group picture outside in the cold, with mountains and sound vignetted by trees in the background. The school loved the change of pace, usually they were photographed under their deck!

A "Clear" Prince William Sound

The second location, Chenega Bay according to the pilot was wiped off the map by a tsunami after the 1964 earthquake. The town was totally rebuilt in a new location further south in the sound, nestled between a few hills. Today heavy winds and low cloud ceiling threatened to keep us for the night. The pilot exclaimed: “we just made it.” I asked him if he meant we just made it over the hill or… he explained: “the cloud ceiling is dropping, and another half an hour and we wouldn’t have made it out”. I was a little worried because I overheard him relating to Kirstin how he had landed on this landing strip and his brakes wouldn’t respond. Apparently it was an ice rink. He was by himself carrying cargo only. Normally when this happens the pilot just takes of again. But he was past this window of opportunity and the end of the landing strip was fast approaching. In theory he could stop by spinning out like one of those BMW professional drivers on a closed course. Gunning one engine and putting the other in reverse (?), he could rudder like a canoe and turn around and face the other direction. He pulled the maneuver and flipped a bitch in a $300,000 twin-engine Navajo. The consequence of crashing it would be termination and most likely black-listing in AK. As landing strip end lights were passed the plane groaned to a halt. This story seemed to be working the necessary magic on Kirstin. Their flirting was in overdrive leading to a “walk” to show him around Chenega Bay, and an invitation for this Friday for another walk.

Kirstin describes how my packing of the wing compartment has caused us to fly with a sagging attitude, apparently a tag was poking out a little!

Tatitlek

By the second school, I had everybody working like a well-oiled machine. The principal wrote on the evaluation: “The most organized and efficient photographer we’ve had. I’ve been here for nine years”. We loaded the up the Navajo, a much easier job with less passengers and gear. An adult bald eagle flew over as we finished up and headed to the top of the runway. I took a few frames of the eagle as we took off, wondering as we wizzed by what he was thinking of the Navajo. The flight back afforded some of the best scenery to date. We flew right over the mountains as we made our way to Anchorage.

We landed in Anchorage without incident and my day was just halfway over. I still had to drop these jobs and some of my equipment at the office, then grab a background for my groups job tomorrow all the way back in Soldotna on the Kenai peninsula. I flew over the Kenai to get back to Anchorage!

The drive to Soldotna would bring me over some familiar ground as I had driven to Seward the first weekend after photographing the Lake and Peninsula School District. However, this time the roads would be slick with winter fully set in. Three hours later and no circulation to my fingers I pulled up to my reserved cabin in the woods. Awesome!!!

The next day I photographed “Wow! Groups” at Cook Inlet Academy, a Christian school in Soldotna. Their day began with a pledge to the “Christian Flag” as well as the American Flag. The staff and students enjoyed doing the more relaxed family-style group posing. The Senior group featured a guy dressed as a pirate and a few of the girls grabbed some pumpkins from their recent fall banquet. Inspired by the props and posing, the seniors relaxed and it showed more of the relationship and personality of this class. A very enjoyable picture day!!

Mt. Illiamna

Mt. Redoubt

I made a deal with the Anchorage territory to arrange to have the rental car for two extra days so that I could cruise the rest of the Kenai Peninsula to Homer. The drive was beautiful affording excellent views of the volcanoes: Mt. Illiamna and Mt. Redoubt. I made it to Homer just in time for sunset. I headed straight for the spit to see if there was any eagle activity. I was not let down. Well there was not the crowds of eagles that you would find in the summer I enjoyed following a pair around the spit getting closer each "sitting". The sky was bumping, inspiring me to take a few landscapes between eagle shots.

An immature Bald eagle flies over Homer Spit

Finally I could "rub" two eagles together in one photo at Homer Spit

Kachemak Bay and Homer Spit

Kachemak Bay

AK-Day 13/24 Ambler/Anchorage: Sunset to Moonrise

AK- Day 13/24 Ambler/Anchorage: Sunset to Moonrise

The sunsets in the Arctic region linger like a stone skipping a few times before it sinks into wavy water. The photons travel through a great deal more of earth’s atmosphere than in the lower 48. The result is many unusual displays: photons bending, refracting, shown through ice crystals. I captured an interesting phenomena as the sunset on my plane ride from Kobuk to Ambler. The sun-burst reminds me of how many of us drew the sun as children: long rays emanating from a crayola yellow-orange orb.

When in Ambler you must amble… After the picture day sessions I set out looking to capture a view of Ambler and the Brooks range that holds a vigilant watch to the north and spans over 100 degrees of the compass. Hiking along the road grew tiresome so I set off through a stand of aspen. A Bev Doolittle picture came alive before my eyes as I plotted the best angle to capture a particularly uppity stand of dwarf aspen that clung to the permafrost. Back on the road, I made my way further up the slope curious of every path that veered off the road. I had not encountered any Hondas, (four-wheelers) or trucks. It would appear that I had the hill to myself. At a fork in the road I looked both directions and saw a grove of trees that shepherded a number of crosses to my right. On approach I noted that the crosses seemed to all face the mountains, probably a significant totem to the Inuipaq of the region.

As I took a number of pictures of the scene, I made note of the crosses. They were clusters of family graves. I looked at the Ticketts’ clan site. A number of them died early: Rodney Tickett Jr. and Tony Tickett both died at 18 years of age, as did Derek Sam Reed. Why so many deaths in the late teens? I learned from Paul Clark, the principal at Deering School that the number one cause of death for teens is suicide, and that it often happens in May even as the ice is breaking up and spring is about to spring. Why at such a hopeful time of year, when things are about to spring back to life do they take their lives? He hypothesized that their diet might contribute. A lack of vitamin D causes SADS (Seasonal Affective Disorder Syndrome). Traditionally much of the Inuit diet consisted of seal, walrus, and whale. All have high amounts of vitamin D. With the advent of a more processed American diet, they were lacking in this key vitamin that is often produced by exposure to sunlight. Yet the sun shines so weakly and for such a short period in the winter that it does not trigger the necessary chemical reaction in the skin. Alcohol was a close second, as Paul observed and many others I spoke with: there is no such thing as a social drink here. You drink to get drunk and these teens had access to sno-gos and Hondas, insert any number of horror stories here. We might not have given them blankets laced with smallpox virus, but our culture can definitely have a devastating effect on this native population.

Early this morning my wife called, I had been expecting her to call. Her voice wavered, and I could tell she had been crying and it was everything she could do to keep it together to tell me the news I had been coming to expect over the last couple weeks. Our cat Miel had shown some signs of recovery but ultimately could not overcome the shutting down of his kidneys and severe anemia. “He got up and ate this morning”, reported Heather which was a major feat considering he could hardly use his hind legs these past couple days. I conjured up the image of our cat in my head with the recent surgeries he had: a shaved belly, and his two front feet were shaved so it looked as though he were wearing ugzs footwear. What a stylin’ cat to the end! We’ll have to add one more name to the growing list of names that he has earned over the years: Miel, Noodle, Udon noodle, Buddha, Buddha belly, Ugzs. What would be the secret name he keeps to himself ala the musical Cats? “I held him in the crook of my arm and he purred for a half an hour before we left for the vet” Heather described. Heather used to joke that she was the cuddler and I was his playmate as I goaded him up the six-foot high cat post as I would empty the basket of cat toys “playing rough” as Heather would call it with the cat. He would spike like a volleyball player the various balls I tossed at him until he grew tired and offered his Buddha belly to me to pet if I dare… The other night Heather, the great cuddler, had worked the cat up into a great purring frenzy and put the transmitter-side of the phone to his mouth. A warm purring rattled the phone and I could hear him gulping back some of his saliva as he does when he’s really happy and drools all over. At that moment I said goodbye to him, knowing that I would likely not see or hear him in the flesh again.

A full moon rose over the Brooks Mountains to the east. The air became chillier as I continued east looking for the best vantage to capture the moon as it rose. I choose some flowers that decorated a grave site and a grove of trees to vignette the frame, as the eye would be lead back to the mountains and moon against the rich blue sky. I lingered, captivated by the scene even though I knew I must be getting back in case the plane would arrive early. I skirted the hilltop, heading south following a four-wheeler trail. I took another composition of the moon, this time a dead tree, with a large stand of aspen in the middle ground that popped out like spirits hovering, waiting for the moon to give an order. I could sense another sound on the horizon, a Honda or a plane? I made my way back west running at times down the slope, hoping to make it to the main road so at least the maintenance guy could find me. My steps turned to large bounds padded by soft mukluk soles, the ground crunching under foot. Familiar landmarks raced by, would I make it? I made it to the road in time to see that it was indeed rush hour to the airport as a number of Hondas buzzed by with trailers jumping to the bumps that riddled the road. I ran again at a brisk pace as I approached town I could see the very large trailer pulled by a smiling maintenance man. I made it as I looked down to see that I was one glove short. I must of dropped it here on the main road since I had them all the way down the hill. He took me quickly back to the school to retrieve my camera bag that I left in the principal’s office. Sherry McKenzie, the principal saw my haste as I interrupted a meeting and told me that it was not my Bering Air flight. Witnessing the temperament of this maintenance guy, I knew that he would not waste any energy on loading my equipment into the trailer unless there was need. So I told her goodbye and ran to my waiting ride, knowing that the plane was early and I must hurry to catch it. The crunch and groan of the ice was audible over the hum of the engine. After dodging the minefield of potholes at the bridge, we went full throttle up the hill past a streak of aspen to the airport. Yes, we made it just in time! I saw the Bering Agent, Henry Mack loading some of the last of the gear in his truck. I had taken his portrait with his family the night before and smiled as we approached. Away to Kotzebue now, and more adventures…

I want to thank all of the people who supported Heather as she cared for our ailing cat. I especially want to thank Kimberly Brewster, who gave us courage and helped us ask the right questions during this difficult time. We are so happy to be supported by so many people. You guys are the best! I know that when any of you are in need of support we can be there for you. As for the kitten, he was truly an extraordinary cat with some dog tendencies mixed in. He had been with Heather and I since the very beginning and though we will miss him dearly, we recognize that it was his time. We were glad to share those many years with him as he kept life interesting by providing a warm lap and play routine that will be sorely missed.

AK-Day 19/20 Noatak to Kivalina

AK-Day 19/20 Noatak to Kivalina

A winter storm is brewing outside as the windows whistle and creak, giving to the wind’s fury. A perfect “A” pitch whistle woke me a few times before I closed the offending window to the kindergarten classroom in McQueen school in Kivalina. The weather forecast calls for a winter storm with winds gusting above 40mph, and snow depth ranging from 6”-10”. Could this be the first snow to stick this season?

The peeled paint, exposed sub floor, and crumbling acoustic tile contrast sharply with a glistening smart board, personal macbooks for high schoolers, and wireless routers. Kivalina is at a watershed moment with the Chukchi Sea rising slowly due to global warming, and more importantly, the ice that typically shields Kivalina from the fury of the wind off the sea stays liquid longer and can than threaten the homes with flooding during late fall storms. Will Kivalina be able to deal with this rapid change or will it find itself adrift culturally and physically?

The Wulik River meets the Chukchi Sea

Rocks were bulldozed on the shore to create a barricade against the wrath of the Chukchi

They will not build a new school at Kivalina, because the town may not be here long enough to support the school. The school district cited falling enrollment when it scuttled its planned renovation of the school this past summer. Taking pictures I noted plenty of primary school kids and the number of students dwindling as I worked my way through the grades until there was just 4 seniors in a PK-12 school of 122 enrolled. Two of the seniors were pregnant. Qatuk, one of the 5^th year seniors who had buckled down the past couple years so that he’ll graduate this year, helped me shepherd the students to Dr. Al Fant’s science classroom. I took about every students’ and staffs’ portrait in the span of just over two hours. Some of them I took twice, a common occurrence in the bush, where “prepay” just doesn’t have that sound of urgency. So I’ve learned over time to enlist help with signing in the “retakers” so that their image will have “their wishes” as I’ve learned to term the: 1) pose selection, 2) color of the background, 3) package options etc. Qatuk has a light schedule, only coming in for half of the day to take a few classes. He kept order and noted any errors on the alpha cards, he knew everyone’s name. After finishing up school pictures I would quickly break down to setup for community pictures that would start at 5:30 pm. This would be another twelve hour plus day…

I began the day in Noatak, which is over the hills and east from here. After waking up from a good night’s rest cushioned on a mattress, rather than a thermarest, I felt refreshed. After packing up, and getting together a few breakfast snack items I was off to the library to reconfigure my studio from a family portraits’ set from the night before to the school portrait set. This would probably take at least twenty minutes. Fifteen minutes in I went back towards my room to find that the door was locked to that wing of the building that my posh classroom suite was on. So I went back to setting up with unfresh breath that I masked with some good earth tea, yum! Right as I was finishing up, a teacher that I told to meet me for his portraits just before 9 am was asking if I was ready. I told him I would be ready in a few minutes and noted that he was early. After finishing his portrait, the cafeteria staff came over to foist today’s breakfast on me senza meat. They had learned I am a “veggie”, as they term it, and knew I wouldn’t be partaking of the commodity beef special of the day. One of the cafeteria staff’s son had his portrait taken yesterday, and I was a rock star to her after getting a beautiful portrait of her special needs’ son smiling, looking into the camera, and folding his hands by his lap with his wheelchair covered up with my perfectly-matching grey sweater. The principal at Noatak sent the cafeteria staff member back, to help finish up lunch service, she left unsure how the portrait would turn out. About five minutes later, I called her back, looking warily towards the office to see if the principal was looking over. Satisfied his attention was elsewhere I waved her over hurriedly and she sprinted across the cafeteria into the safety of the library screened by my background for the moment. She positively rejoiced upon viewing her son’s portrait, and ran back after using a passing class as cover before reaching her kitchen. My belly stuffed with two breakfast mini-meals between portrait sittings, I greeted a Inuit man with a full carhhart lined jumpsuit that was drenched in the smell of the nearby Red Dog Mine: diesel, oil, and metallic dust combined to announce his mining occupation. I made another portrait of his son with his “wishes”, he was satisfied, his break from the mine drawing to a close. He thanked me and gave me a hearty hand-shake as we looked each other in the eyes, I noticed a metallic bead in the corner of each of his eyes. Away he went to continue the unearthing of lead and zinc, and I was back to extracting smiles using my own tools: a smile, jokes, and a sense of humility.

The Road to Red Dog Mine near its port on the Chukchi Sea, the road allows 200 ton trucks to ferry their loads to the global market place

The day was flying along after setting up, taking pictures, doing paperwork and checking-in with the office, meeting with the principal to discuss picture day, and breaking down to load it on a truck to catch the morning flight to Kivalina, where I would setup for school pictures while eating lunch in one hand, take all of the pictures anticipating a low turnout with the blizzard approaching that night, and then breakdown the school portrait setup. Finally, setup for family portraits while eating dinner in one hand. This is what the Beatles call a “Hard Day’s Night”, but it would afford me two half days before traveling again back to Kotzebue, Nome, and then to Anchorage. This is all assuming that I will be able to fly out tomorrow in these conditions.

A blown-snow eye view of Kivalina

Anthony Baldwin, the maintenance guy at Kivalina took all my gear to the landing strip. An obstinate honda pulling a large trailer, the vehicle of choice in the bush until the cold and snow set in.

After an eventful community portrait session, which ended with me resetting up after half breaking down the studio. I took the last portrait session of Arthur Swan Sr. with his wife, and what I assumed was their grandchild, but I’ve been totally wrong so many times with relationships that I no longer use them to give directions on posing but rather rely on actual names or joke names that lighten the mood. Too many times I’ve called someone “ big brother” or “big sister” and they are the mother or father! Two-Thirds of the families that came down were “Swans”. These Swans came regaled in full beaver and wolf fur parkies.

The natives have the right to take many animals that white hunters and trappers are not allowed to hunt. For instance, seals and walruses can be hunted, and with the advent of the gun, and snow-go, (snowmobile). They just shoot, and snow-go up to it hoping it doesn’t sink, if the walrus sinks they just continue shooting until they get one. The spear and buoy method that insured little or no waste has been abandoned for convenience. This waste is frowned upon in some quarters of the community, but they are not listened to... there is not much in this landscape so they take what they can get, forgetting their ethic of not wasting meat. In many native traditions, the animal is viewed as giving their spirit so that the native community members could survive. The natives do not term the taking of game as "killing" the caribou, for instance, but rather they "catch" the caribou.

This seal carcass in Buckland has been here since summer, it was shot, but sunk, when it was recovered the meat was spoiled. It now sits outside Donald's house, a student I met in Buckland.

A hide drying out in the crisp 0 degree air on a honda, this hide will be fashioned into some clothing or accessory most likely

A boy waits with his grandfather at the Kivalina Landing Strip

My hope is that the Inuipaq would shed some of the bad cultural trappings they have embraced from white society and fill them with some of their more noble traditions. But it has to be their idea, and led by their elders or youth. The white teachers and other support staff from the outside bring the promise of learning, but these teachings, to be successful have to be supported by the community. What if there were more Inuipaq role models in the schools and the community was harnessed? Volunteers could teach their traditions and integrate that into the curriculum so that the various subjects could hold meaning. Right now they mean nearly nothing to most of the students I met. Who knows, I might see some of these students next year and some of them will have made a decision to learn and ultimately graduate. But I only capture them for that brief moment and then I'm gone. And Kivalina is no different.

A Kivalina man goes "hooking" in the lagoon, maybe he'll catch some trout

Back to Anchorage...my last few images in the Arctic

Stay tuned in for more "prequel" blog posts.

AK- Day 10/11, Above the Arctic Circle

AK- Day 10/11, Above the Arctic Circle: When I became Dog Food...

The buddhist axiom: "this too, shall pass", uttered by my friend Mark as he stood barefoot, in sandels with a couple feet of snow packed by winter sport enthusiasts under his cork-cushioned sandels.

Staying warm and happy: is it a state of mind?

Looking out at the Bering Sea beyond Kotzebue Sound

Mountains rise up above the tundra below

Landing in Kotzebue after early morning flight from Anchorage left me a little groggy but excited to behold more of the arctic; beyond the pre-dawn ice reflecting promonitions of a land actively and brutually shaped by fire, water, and ice.

This rugged landscape once kissed the Asian continent, and brought a people whose descendants still populate the Arctic to this day.

The Inuits I would be visiting lived "up river" along the life-giving banks of the Kobuk river. Guarded by the Brooks range to the north, these settlements were in prime caribou country, the primary source of protein for the region.

I would learn quickly, that a picture day "up-river was a very different affair then, Lake and Pennisula School district, and downright alien compared to a Charlotte, NC Picture day.

I traveled to Kotzebue, with another bush photographer, Paul. I learned that he is a conservation biologist that marked earlier chapters of his life. His travels brought him to Iran, India, and remote regions of Alaska among other places. He studied the intricate dance between predator and prey. His specialty was large cats. For instance he studied a species of lion that lives in a narrow range of teak forests in India. As his stories and nuggets of wisdom were shared over the more mundane pieces of logistical business we had here in "Kotz", I gained a respect for his view on life: a scientist's lens, that saw sets of facts and sought to make sense of them. A way of life that depended on asking the right questions to seek truths that in the end are relative. The world is a rich mosaic of grey tones, not a graphic black and white picture.

Deep discussions were put on hold as the the rumbling in our bellies sent us on a quest to find a restaurant before we hit the bush!

All of these prized buck caribou antlers were shot by one inuit kid, who shot his first caribou when he was three according to a proud dad that scurried to load up his truck with supplies.

Our "five minute" walk to the Bayside Restaurant became fifteen as we kept hoping the next building would be the restaurant. The fractured ice, stacked up on the shore reminded me of the knots in my stomach. Finally the church-going proprietors of the "Empress Restaurant" as they shuttered their restaurant gave us the courage to walk two more doors down to the Bayside restaurant.

Inside, hot tea thawed us out as I waited for a halibut sandwich and Paul set his eyes on blueberry pancakes and fueled stories of survival in cold places. In the end the stories came back around and I was telling Paul about my time in Bangledesh, where on a layover the customs officials had taken our passports. We were all put up in hotels for the night. The following day, Heather and I wanted to explore the neighborhood. We went out with an open mind, soon a small crowd was following us around, wondering what we were up too. One man offered to show us his home and his family. We followed him back to this shanty shack were we meet "babu" and his wife. His wife grasped "babu" as I took a portrait of them with the light sweeping through the doorway across their faces. The father, not wanting to offend his guests motioned for us to follow him to the tea stand so thjat he could get us some tea and biscuits. The average income of a bangledeshi is about one dollar a day, and he wanted to buy us tea and a snack. I wouldn't have it, so I paid for the tea and biscuits... Paul and I shared some other stories based on the theme of "fast friends". We both had encountered local people in whatever country who wanted to please us so bad that when we asked if we were going the right direction they would reply: YES. When in fact it would be the wrong way. They wanted to please us so bad that they would rather mislead then disappoint you. But do they consider it misleading? They think that they are doing you a favor by keeping you happy for the time being, the last thing they want to do is make you unhappy. Shades of grey overlapping and meshing to create an image... now turn it around... what do you see? What does the person next to you see?

Hoar Frost creeps up the branches, growing day by day like an ivy covering its host

Shungnak School, the largest school "up river"

When I landed at Shungnak Landing Strip, the first thing that I asked the pilot was: "Did you radio the school, do they know to come pick me up?" His reply: "I notified my agent", did nothing for my confidence for being picked up anytime soon, I asked both the person waiting in a pickup truck to radio somebody, and someone on a 4-wheeler to find the maintenance person for the school. It was a Sunday, and the ominous words from Bering air ticketing agent in Kotzebue: "Did you know that someone died in Shungnak?" rang in my ear. Everyone left, the post person took the mail including a package I took on the plane from the village before, (whoops, I think I broke one of the holy FAA rules), I started adding layers as the -10 degree air was harsh against my lungs. A few layers later, I wondered how I was going to get my 140 lbs self, and my 356 lbs. of gear to the school for a shoot that was supposed to happen tonight in a town that was grieving for its recent loss. About twenty minutes later a couple drove up on a four-wheeler with a little riding lawn mower trailer rolling behind. I asked if they were here to pick me up as they looked askance over me. "Actually we came to pick up some dog food, have you seen any?" as they gesticulated towards my gear. I told them that I was their photographer. I found out later that it was a much known fact that Theresa and Greg were looking for a shipment of dog food for their hungry dog who had been subsisting on freezer seconds. Could the guy in the pickup have used that fact to get these two teachers from the school out to the frigid landing strip to pick me up by announcing on the village radio that their dog food had arrived?

At any rate. their dog food had arrived, I hope they are ready for a lean, vegetarian blend with a spicy kick!!