Travel Reference
In-Depth Information
The fort itself was decommissioned after World War II and the buildings sold as army
surplus to five retired officers who had served there. They planned to create an arts com-
munity, which has been partially realized as what was the Fort Chilkoot hospital is now
home to Alaska Indian Arts, a nonprofit corporation dedicated to the preservation of the
art and craft of the Pacific Northwest native tribes. A totem pole is currently under con-
struction and Rose says, “The smell of cedar hits you in the face when you walk in the
door.”
The town itself has paved streets with curbs but no stop lights. It doesn't have any chain
restaurants or big box stores or traffic jams. What they do have is a smile and a “Hello”
from everyone you meet, tall mountains, vast glaciers, deep blue waters lapping at lush
green cliffs, with salmon jumping everywhere you look, eagles and bears loitering with
intent, and a laid-back quality I've seldom found anywhere else, even in Alaska.
Life is still lived around fishing, although, following a statewide trend, where there
used to be nine operating salmon canneries in Haines there is now only one. That's if you
don't count the Tsirku Canning Co., where commercial fisherman Jim Szymanski has re-
constructed an old cannery line and runs it at one-tenth the normal speed, explaining each
step as you go. “There's something about Haines that encourages people to pursue their
passion,” says Michelle Glass of the Haines Visitor's Bureau. “Oh, look, an eagle,” she
adds as we're driving out to Seduction Point.
There's a lot of “Oh, look, an eagle” in local conversations, as the 48,000-acre Chilkat
Bald Eagle Preserve is located in Haines, which inspired the passion of retired high school
teacher Dave Olerud to pretty much single-handedly create the American Bald Eagle
Foundation which monitors and interprets the habits of the 4,000 eagles on the preserve.
There's the tiny Great Land winery which recently won an award for it's onion wine (I
don't even want to know), and, oh yeah, the Hammer Museum. Yes, really, it's in Irene's
brother Ronnie's old house on Main Street, housing a collection of 1,200 hammers. For $2
admission, Carol Pahl will introduce you to every single one. There are wagon pin ham-
mers that did double duty as hitching pins. There are bill poster hammers with magnetic
claws. There's an unwieldy triple claw hammer complete with patent document extolling
its “distinguished appearance,” evidently made just for pretty. There are tack hammers
and paving hammers and a whale blubber hammer and a Waterford crystal hammer and
