Ideal Cove and Petersburg
The pre-breakfast gang is on the bow of the National Geographic Sea Lion, and the ship is cutting smoothly through a glassy sea. The sun is just lighting a few feathery wisps of clouds in an otherwise clear sky and painting a tree-topped ridgeline to the east in fire. All the coast mountains are out, in sharp relief against the light of early morning. It’s going to be One Of Those Days: a day when otherwise sensible bankers from the Midwest, on their first trip to Alaska, suddenly decide to quit their jobs, pack up their families, and move here. A day when people who live in Southeast Alaska start the day a bit frantic, unable to decide how to spend this rare commodity: a perfect late-summer day.
Soon we are at Ideal Cove. The fast hikers are stepping smartly away up the trail, disappearing into the forest. Interpretive walkers follow. Under a canopy of branches, the rainforest is dappled with light and shadow. A profusion of plants take turns in the sunlight. We visually get it, what these leaves are for: solar collectors. It’s a place rich with detailed life. There is moss on every inch of ground, and even on the trunks and branches of trees. Fungi and lichens provide counterpoint. A Pacific Wren flits its mousy way across the forest floor. Berries are found, good for eating, and a banana slug, not so much. The upturned roots of downfallen trees host hanging gardens, and every fallen log a nursery of seedlings, the next generation. Our soundtrack for this walk is the soft gurgling of a stream nearby, the occasional twitter of birds, our own voices, and silence. We are rewarded, after a time, with open meadow and small lakes, longer views. Perhaps it was a day just like this, we think, when this place got its name.
Afternoon finds us at Petersburg. We’re “alongside,” as they say, at a dock, and free to come and go as we please. Indeed, everyone wanders where they will: to a Dock Walk to learn about fishing boats and styles and the creatures that live on the dock; to a Bog Walk to explore the unique Muskeg ecotype; on bicycles on the island’s quiet streets; flightseeing; or off to poke through stores, meet the locals, soak in a little of this town’s authentic flavor. There’s no road to here, from anywhere else, and the evidence of Petersburg’s focus on fishing and its Norwegian heritage are everywhere. “This place,” a guest comments, “fits my ideal of what an Alaskan fishing town is like.” And there’s that word again: ideal.
