Despite being a land of staggering plenty, Alaska's southeast is facing a number of challenges. Proposals for new mining operations and hydroelectric dams are looming and the logging industry -- a spectacular and perpetual loser both environmentally and economically -- is looking to re-establish operations in the Tongass National Forest after largely being set aside several decades ago. As a result, a growing number of local, regional and national groups continue their efforts to protect the habitat of the Tongass the myriad of life that depends on it, though not without significant hurdles still ahead.
The logic seems simple. In a region where virtually every facet of the economy -- particularly the salmon and tourist industries -- is dependent either directly or indirectly on the bounty of the forest that surrounds and encompasses it, the necessary argument seems to require little more sophistication than "don't shit where you eat." But, even in Alaska's southeast, where support for measures like the Tongass 77 -- which seeks increased protection from development like logging for 77 watersheds researchers have identified as the most valuable within the boundaries of the national forest -- is strong, not everyone is on board. Not even amongst fishermen.
Any lack of support for measures protecting the invaluable habitat of the Tongass may simply be a result of perception, rather than a gulf on matters of principle importance. Factors such as a growing national distrust of governmental regulation play a role, but perhaps more at the root of any inability to gather at the table may be how many view the way they interact with the opulence of the Tongass. As one local fisherman, who supports measures like the Tongass 77 noted, "fishermen -- like loggers -- are resource extractors. There's an inherent hesitancy amongst resource extractors of all flavors and colors to support policies that seek to limit or constrain extraction, whether that resource is lumber or fish, regardless of how common sense those policies may be."
Also at play is the fact that, for now, the salmon and the other species of the Tongass are thriving, making it difficult for some to see the need to put regulations in place, difficult for some to agree on the likely future facing the region. The reality here, however, is that seeing the need for taking steps to protect and conserve the rich habitat of Alaska's southeast doesn't require a subjective leverage of foresight. Rather, it requires only hindsight. The future facing the Tongass, should efforts to protect its most valuable habitat fail, is already well written in the past of vast swaths of the Pacific Northwest (more on that here).
The Tongass of today is one that fuels an ecosystem, an economy and a variety of cultures, and begs to be explored by those that have a love of wild places. The hope, is that the Tongass of today will persist indefinitely, continuing to drive a vibrant and healthy southeastern Alaska.
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(1/6) The fishing industry in the Tongass, despite its massive harvests, is still largely characterized by family and small business operations. The individuals that drive the industry are passionate about its survival and often eager to share their views on the issues that surround it. When politics overwhelm the conversation, there's always time for some discussion on the virtues of troll-caught salmon (photo: Chad Shmukler).
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(2/6) The fishing industry in the Tongass, despite its massive harvests, is still largely characterized by family and small business operations. The individuals that drive the industry are passionate about its survival and often eager to share their views on the issues that surround it. When politics overwhelm the conversation, there's always time for some discussion on the virtues of troll-caught salmon (photo: Chad Shmukler).
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(3/6) The fishing industry in the Tongass, despite its massive harvests, is still largely characterized by family and small business operations. The individuals that drive the industry are passionate about its survival and often eager to share their views on the issues that surround it. When politics overwhelm the conversation, there's always time for some discussion on the virtues of troll-caught salmon (photo: Chad Shmukler).
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(4/6) The fishing industry in the Tongass, despite its massive harvests, is still largely characterized by family and small business operations. The individuals that drive the industry are passionate about its survival and often eager to share their views on the issues that surround it. When politics overwhelm the conversation, there's always time for some discussion on the virtues of troll-caught salmon (photo: Chad Shmukler).
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(5/6) The fishing industry in the Tongass, despite its massive harvests, is still largely characterized by family and small business operations. The individuals that drive the industry are passionate about its survival and often eager to share their views on the issues that surround it. When politics overwhelm the conversation, there's always time for some discussion on the virtues of troll-caught salmon (photo: Chad Shmukler).
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(6/6) The fishing industry in the Tongass, despite its massive harvests, is still largely characterized by family and small business operations. The individuals that drive the industry are passionate about its survival and often eager to share their views on the issues that surround it. When politics overwhelm the conversation, there's always time for some discussion on the virtues of troll-caught salmon (photo: Chad Shmukler).
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Here, a purse seining operation sets its nets in search of salmon. Purse seiners are responsible for large hauls of fish in Alaska's southeast, with catches from a single net set as high as a thousand fish or more (photo: Earl Harper).
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(1/4) Dotting the shorelines of Alaska's southeast are numerous seafood processing facilities, like this one, where catches are delivered daily and quickly processed, packaged and shipped for sale. Here, processors work through a haul of chum salmon, which will be sold commercially as "keta" or "silverbrite" salmon (photo: Chad Shmukler).
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(2/4) Dotting the shorelines of Alaska's southeast are numerous seafood processing facilities, like this one, where catches are delivered daily and quickly processed, packaged and shipped for sale. Here, processors work through a haul of chum salmon, which will be sold commercially as "keta" or "silverbrite" salmon (photo: Chad Shmukler).
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(3/4) Dotting the shorelines of Alaska's southeast are numerous seafood processing facilities, like this one, where catches are delivered daily and quickly processed, packaged and shipped for sale. Here, processors work through a haul of chum salmon, which will be sold commercially as "keta" or "silverbrite" salmon (photo: Chad Shmukler).
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(4/4) Dotting the shorelines of Alaska's southeast are numerous seafood processing facilities, like this one, where catches are delivered daily and quickly processed, packaged and shipped for sale. Here, processors work through a haul of chum salmon, which will be sold commercially as "keta" or "silverbrite" salmon (photo: Chad Shmukler).
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Setting out by boat from a Juneau Harbor for Admiralty Island, talk is of bears. Admiralty is home to the world's highest concentration of brown bears, with a concentration of just under one bear per square mile (photo: Earl Harper).
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(1/3) As we step into a creek that flows across the island, wading boots are hardly in the water for a minute before the first pink salmon is hooked, and the catches continue unabated until, in an effort to up the difficulty -- a senseless tendency that many a fly fisherman is afflicted with -- we decide to try to catch pinks on poppers. It isn't long before the craft is mastered, and the flurry of pinks continues. Eventually, even this 12 pound chum salmon gets in on the top water action (photo: Earl Harper).
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(2/3) As we step into a creek that flows across the island, wading boots are hardly in the water for a minute before the first pink salmon is hooked, and the catches continue unabated until, in an effort to up the difficulty -- a senseless tendency that many a fly fisherman is afflicted with -- we decide to try to catch pinks on poppers. It isn't long before the craft is mastered, and the flurry of pinks continues. Eventually, even this 12 pound chum salmon gets in on the top water action (photo: Earl Harper).
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(3/3) As we step into a creek that flows across the island, wading boots are hardly in the water for a minute before the first pink salmon is hooked, and the catches continue unabated until, in an effort to up the difficulty -- a senseless tendency that many a fly fisherman is afflicted with -- we decide to try to catch pinks on poppers. It isn't long before the craft is mastered, and the flurry of pinks continues. Eventually, even this 12 pound chum salmon gets in on the top water action (photo: Chad Shmukler).
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The surprise for the day -- well, aside from how much gut aching laughter is produced by repeatedly catching pacific salmon on surface flies more suited to largemouth bass -- is this beautiful, feisty cutthroat trout (photo: Earl Harper).
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(1/3) Reaching an unnamed tidal creek less than 20 miles from downtown Juneau is accomplish via a Ward Air DeHavilland Beaver float plane. These more than half-century old aircraft are the most heralded bush planes in Alaska and beyond (photo: Earl Harper).
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(2/3) Reaching an unnamed tidal creek less than 20 miles from downtown Juneau is accomplish via a Ward Air DeHavilland Beaver float plane. These more than half-century old aircraft are the most heralded bush planes in Alaska and beyond (photo: Earl Harper).
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(3/3) Reaching an unnamed tidal creek less than 20 miles from downtown Juneau is accomplish via a Ward Air DeHavilland Beaver float plane. These more than half-century old aircraft are the most heralded bush planes in Alaska and beyond (photo: Earl Harper).
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(1/5) Once the float plane departs, a long walk through thick meadows of rain-soaked marsh grasses ensues, eventually yielding the the chum salmon choked creek. As expected, hordes of dolly varden have followed the spawning chum in to feast on their eggs, and we've followed the dollies (photo: Earl Harper).
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(2/5) Once the float plane departs, a long walk through thick meadows of rain-soaked marsh grasses ensues, eventually yielding the the chum salmon choked creek. As expected, hordes of dolly varden have followed the spawning chum in to feast on their eggs, and we've followed the dollies (photo: Chad Shmukler).
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(3/5) Once the float plane departs, a long walk through thick meadows of rain-soaked marsh grasses ensues, eventually yielding the the chum salmon choked creek. As expected, hordes of dolly varden have followed the spawning chum in to feast on their eggs, and we've followed the dollies (photo: Earl Haper).
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(4/5) Once the float plane departs, a long walk through thick meadows of rain-soaked marsh grasses ensues, eventually yielding the the chum salmon choked creek. As expected, hordes of dolly varden have followed the spawning chum in to feast on their eggs, and we've followed the dollies (photo: Chad Shmukler).
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(5/5) Once the float plane departs, a long walk through thick meadows of rain-soaked marsh grasses ensues, eventually yielding the the chum salmon choked creek. As expected, hordes of dolly varden have followed the spawning chum in to feast on their eggs, and we've followed the dollies (photo: Earl Harper).
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The bounty of of the Tongass is shared by many a creature. The remnants of salmon that have been feasted upon by bear, bald eagles and other animals wash up on gravel bars, lie on grassy banks and float downriver (photo: Earl Harper).
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Here, two old grizzly bears tussle a creekside salmon berry bush in search of a mid-day snack (photo: Chad Shmukler).
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(1/2) The vast majority of the fishing in creeks like these is done using bead rigs -- plastic beads designed to imitate salmon eggs -- pegged 1-2 inches above a bare hook. Frowned upon by some, "beading" is more effective and intricate than fishing with yarn-based egg flies and significantly reduces fish mortality due to a drastic decrease in the number of deeply swallowed hooks (photo: Earl Harper).
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(2/2) The vast majority of the fishing in creeks like these is done using bead rigs -- plastic beads designed to imitate salmon eggs -- pegged 1-2 inches above a bare hook. Frowned upon by some, "beading" is more effective and intricate than fishing with yarn-based egg flies and significantly reduces fish mortality due to a drastic decrease in the number of deeply swallowed hooks (photo: Chad Shmukler).
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(1/3) The chum and dolly varden in this creek are impressive specimens. Many of the dolly varden, which gorge virtually non-stop all summer long on salmon eggs, will top 30 inches in length (photo: Earl Harper).
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(2/3) The chum and dolly varden in this creek are impressive specimens. Many of the dolly varden, which gorge virtually non-stop all summer long on salmon eggs, will top 30 inches in length (photo: Chad Shmukler).
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(3/3) The chum and dolly varden in this creek are impressive specimens. Many of the dolly varden, which gorge virtually non-stop all summer long on salmon eggs, will top 30 inches in length (photo: Chad Shmukler).
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Glacier ice and snowmelt fed creeks aren't only good for nourishing salmonids, they're incredibly effective at rapidly chilling Rainer that's spent the day warming in cramped backpacks (photo: Chad Shmukler).
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(1/2) The creek we leave 6 hours after arriving is a largely transformed version of the one that greeted us upon our arrival. The tidal influence here is significant. We leave the marsh grass meadows behind and plod through a seemingly endless, stench filled mudfield (photo: Chad Shmukler).
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(2/2) The creek we leave 6 hours after arriving is a largely transformed version of the one that greeted us upon our arrival. The tidal influence here is significant. We leave the marsh grass meadows behind and plod through a seemingly endless, stench filled mudfield (photo: Chad Shmukler).
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(1/3) Coursing through the Juneau town limits is Montana Creek, a clearwater tributary to the Mendenhall River. Montana Creek offers outstanding fishing for coho, chum and pink salmon, dolly varden and even steelhead. Montana Creek, despite being located in very close proximity to fairly densely developed recreational areas, remains undeveloped and pristine (photo: Chad Shmukler).
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(2/3) Coursing through the Juneau town limits is Montana Creek, a clearwater tributary to the Mendenhall River. Montana Creek offers outstanding fishing for coho, chum and pink salmon, dolly varden and even steelhead. Montana Creek, despite being located in very close proximity to fairly densely developed recreational areas, remains undeveloped and pristine (photo: Chad Shmukler).
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(3/3) Coursing through the Juneau town limits is Montana Creek, a clearwater tributary to the Mendenhall River. Montana Creek offers outstanding fishing for coho, chum and pink salmon, dolly varden and even steelhead. Montana Creek, despite being located in very close proximity to fairly densely developed recreational areas, remains undeveloped and pristine (photo: Chad Shmukler).
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(1/3) A midday break on a footbridge crossing Montana Creek reveals a chum salmon holding in a small pool just downstream of the bridge. The fact that we've arrived on Montana with Tenkara rods and dolly varden as our target seems to ward no one off the challenge, and it isn't long before Chris Hunt is mid stream swinging a pink streamer to the oblivious chum. The 10-pound salmon swiftly obliges and the task of a Tenkara-caught salmon is achieved (photo: Chad Shmukler).
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(2/3) A midday break on a footbridge crossing Montana Creek reveals a chum salmon holding in a small pool just downstream of the bridge. The fact that we've arrived on Montana with Tenkara rods and dolly varden as our target seems to ward no one off the challenge, and it isn't long before Chris Hunt is mid stream swinging a pink streamer to the oblivious chum. The 10-pound salmon swiftly obliges and the task of a Tenkara-caught salmon is achieved (photo: Chad Shmukler).
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(3/3) A midday break on a footbridge crossing Montana Creek reveals a chum salmon holding in a small pool just downstream of the bridge. The fact that we've arrived on Montana with Tenkara rods and dolly varden as our target seems to ward no one off the challenge, and it isn't long before Chris Hunt is mid stream swinging a pink streamer to the oblivious chum. The 10-pound salmon obliges and the task of a Tenkara-caught salmon is achieved (photo: Chad Shmukler).
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The abundance of the waters and the rainforest that cover southeast Alaska is leaves no one in this group -- which hails from across the United States -- without a deep, pervasive sense of reverence. The need to preserve such an unparalleled resource through any reasonable means seems a matter of common sense, rather than one for debate, especially given the lessons already learned by far-reaching regions of the lower 48 and Canada that squandered their similar resources.
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