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Seldovia, 1998
As the little plane rose up from Homer airport, and the now familiar shape of Homer spit slid underneath us, I reflected on the changes that had occurred in the years since I was last there. The world has indeed shrunk! Then, it was a thin connection, hand written letters 3 or 4 times a year. This time we were in daily contact over the Internet. Last time, I was thrilled to just see my friend again. This time I wanted more details about her life in a small town, "almost an island" she said. How did it differ from the life I led in a busy, impersonal suburb of a large city, with consumerism hounding in from all sides?
As in my first trip, Helen and Carl were waiting for me at the edge of the airstrip in Seldovia. I recognized them as the plane landed and taxied to a stop by the ticket office. A light rain was falling. The third passsenger of the plane asked Carl if he could hitch and ride into town, and he and Helen got into the back of the truck. Carl, who was calling me a "frequent visitor" told us that he laughed about our worries of getting around (from Homer Spit to airport) "In Alaska, you just ask the nearest person for a ride!" Back home, we haven't been able to safely hitch rides for at least 25 years. |
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As we drove into town -- a very short drive from the airstrip -- I began to point out landmarks I remembered from my last stay. "Look! There is the house you used to live in! And there is the building you were in the process of building (now no longer theirs, and beginning to show a little wear and tear)  There is the cannery (no longer a cannery) and your office was just behind it, on the dock the Coast Guard tied up to --"
But many of the buildings I did not recognize and many of these were commercial, businesses looking for the tourist dollar. In 1983 the economy was tied to fishing, now it is tied to tourism. Another change.
We stayed in Seldovia 3 days, and each day it rained a little harder. We didn't let the rain dampen our spirits; we put on slickers, picked up the umbrellas, and off we went! The weather may have kept us from the outer beach (where now there are houses and roads, before there were none), but the rest of the town lay before us, ready for exploring. And the distances were very short.
Helen has composed a web site describing the many businesses and things to do in town, and we insisted in seeing as many as possible, and in doing the things she suggested. Kayaking was out, of course. The Buzz (coffee and delicious, huge cookies) became a daily destination. One evening we all went out for dinner at the Mad Fish, Seldovia's gourmet restaurant, and gourmet it is! We, the outsiders, ordered fish, Helen and Carl had portabello mushroom sandwiches.
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 We hung around the dock, waiting for the afternoon boat to come in from Homer. A charter fishing boat docked and they hung the catch up for the cameras of the fisherman's family to record. One halibut weighed 143 lbs! and a second was about half that weight. 8 or 10 smaller fish were arranged in front of the hanging two. What a photo opportunity!
Denali, the dog, came down the gangplank, nosed around the fish, and was chased back up again.
From our vantage point above the dock, we watched as the captain and his mate expertly filleted the fish, throwing the skins and the inedible portion of the fish into a floating bin which would later be towed out to sea before being dumped. Seagulls gathered to snatch the skins out of the air before they went into the bin; they were about 80% successful.
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Government and Social Services
Helen divides her volunteer time between Synergy and the library, which we also visited. It is adjacent to the fire station.
I had wondered about services in such a small town; they have a police chief - with no other policemen to boss around! The firemen and EMT are all volunteers, with paid fire and EMT administrator. Serious accidents are airlifted to the Homer hospital. Specialty care is only an hour or two away (by jet) in Anchorage and Seattle. "And babies?" I asked. "When the mother is almost due, she moves over to Homer until after the birth. We haven't had a too-fast baby here in years."
Garbage? There is a town dump. "Going to the dump can be a social event" said Carl. My friend in rural New Hampshire said almost the same thing.
Seldovia is a first class City - with a city manager hired by the city council, and a staff of city clerk, accountant and maintenance staff, police chief and fire administrator also on the pay roll. My source for this information was expert; Carl had been city manager when I last visitied.
I knew about veterinary care. During the winter Helen adopted a stray cat, which she insisted be spayed before fully accepting her into the household. The cat was put in a carrier and sent over to the vet in Homer by air taxi. There she was transferred to a cab which completed the journey to the vets. After her operation and recuperation time, the trip was reversed and Helen picked up a fixed Moochie at the Seldovia airstrip. And emergencies? During the time we were there, a neighbor's dog had its leg gashed; the vet prescribed an antibiotic salve and sent it over on the next air taxi. The neighbor did the doctoring himself.
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Homer Air also runs a freight service every Wed. Groceries come in to the Seldovia Mart (the big store) via Homer Air. Groceries are trucked in to the smaller grocery. Trucked? The owner takes his truck over to Homer on the Tuesday ferry, drives up to Anchorage where he shops in Sam's, Price Club, and the like, and also picks up the cargo townsfolks have asked him to bring back. He arrives on the early Sunday morning ferry.
Grocery prices -- in both stores, are higher than they are at home, from 50% to 100% higher, but the transportation costs can be blamed for that. At those prices, you stretch more and buy less.
I think that is what I'd miss the most if I moved to Seldovia year round, the fresh fruits and vegetables, the large selection of meats, the weekly sales.
 
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What a Seldovian would miss if they moved outside, I think, is the sense of community. With a little over 300 residents, everyone knows everyone in town. All the town dogs are known, too. 
We watched a little comedy as Denali's (a dog) owner tried to round him up to take him home. Accompanied by a muddy white dog named Katy, they avoided the owner with feints and scurries. Finally, with the help of a local child, Denali was loaded onto the back of the all terrain vehicle and off they went, with Katy and the child running behind.
Half an hour later, Denali was back. This time two adults rounded him up and took him home. I think he was laughing at them the entire time.
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 That same day we encountered the town gardener, Doug, clearing a walkspace on main street that had been silted by winter run off. "Somebody has to do it!" he said, when I asked if that were part of his job.
Actually, he is not on the town payroll, but is paid with funds from a town kitty put out for that purpose. Most years, he uses the money to buy gardening supplies. His work can be seen all over town, and the largest little park is named for him.
"We do it because it has to be done" is a common theme in Seldovia. Carl sweeps the bridge over the slough; that is the signal that summer is coming! Sadi built a boardwalk along the edge of Lake Susan (actually a large pond, and named for Susan Bloch English, one of the founding mothers) so that people going from Anderson Way to Spillum St. do not need to slog through the mud.
"Because it had to be done!" |
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Carl and Helen's house, which looks like a cottage from the road, really fools the eye. It is built on the slope leading down to the slough, with a small apartment on the lower floor that would be our home for the 3 days of our visit. Below that is space for storage. There is a porch off the main floor, and a smaller porch and boardwalks below. With the rain and all, we did spend a lot of time at the house that we might have spent out exploring. They have a satellite dish, and we saw more and better TV than we ever catch at home.
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One afternoon, while sitting in the livingroom, we saw an eagle swoop over the porch and settle on a tree just in front of it. A photo opportunity! I grabbed my camera and began taping through the glass door, then Carl slid it open and I sidled out (using my best tai chi creep) trying to get the best view of the eagle that I could without scaring it away. The tape ran as I crept closer and closer to the porch railing and the tree. The eagle eyed me, but did not move. Soon I said to Carl, who had followed me out, "I'd like to get tape of him flying away ---" Carl clapped his hands, crying out "shoo, shoo" but the eagle did not move. The others came out, in a less quiet fashion and still he did not move. I taped him from a distance of 12 or 15 feet for about 10 minutes. Finally -- his own idea -- he flew down the slough.
Seeing such a large, magestic, wild bird up so close was a thrill. Someone said that when the salmon were running, the eagles were as common as starlings. Helen reported that a few weeks after we left, she saw two eagles lock talons and spiral to earth, hitting the mud flats below her house. She and a neighbor ran out, to see if either bird was hurt by the fall. But they both got up and continued their flight/pursuit down the slough. Was it a territorial dispute or a mating ritual? She doesn't know.
There were other visitors to the porch bird feeder. Steller's Jays, who have blue bodies and black heads, with the same peak as a blue jay and angry looking bright blue "eyebrows" were in the habit of pecking at the window for attention if the feeder had become empty. Another visitor was the red squirrel, small, nervous, quick. The cats were very interested in both, catching neither.
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It was time to go. I was so disappointed that I had come to early for the salmon run, that Helen took two frozen Halibut steaks from her freezer. She wrapped them in newspaper, and put them in an insulated bag. Unfortunately it did not fit in my back pack, and had to go in our checked through suitcase.
We flew back to Homer, picked up our car and retraced our steps. We caught the red-eye jet for St. Louis where we changed in the very early morning hours for a flight to Pittsburgh. The Anchorage plane was 10 minutes late in landing and we raced the length down one concourse and up the length of the next. Yes, we made the connection.
But the suitcase didn't. We waited in Pittsburgh but it did not appear and we spoke with the TWA baggage boss.
"You will be the uncomfortable ones if the bag is not found soon!" we told him, "because it has two fish steaks in it!"
The suitcase caught the next plane out of St. Louis and was delivered to our house by cab that afternoon. Quickly I opened up the case, checked the fish. They were still frozen, but beginning to thaw around the edges.
Nothing to do but to invite in all our friends for a grand fish dinner the following Saturday.
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The tourist boat docked, and the dozen or so tourists made their way up the gangplank and into town. The rain kept the numbers down ---
Christmas tree decorations. Helen tells us that in the winter they often hold crafts workshops for the residents and the local teens also attend.
