Channel Islands is a cluster of 14 small islands stretching from Auke Bay to Amalga Harbor near Juneau, Alaska. These islands provide an important habitat for nesting shorebirds, a haul out for Stellar sea lions, and an amazing recreational area for kayakers, campers, boaters, and geocachers. Thanks to the efforts of former State Senator Kim Elton and State Representative Beth Kerttula, these islands became part of the marine park system in 2005, and were expanded with additional islands in 2008.

On May 2, 2009, a Juneau-based non-profit organization Turning The Tides organized its second annual Channel Islands marine debris cleanup. Spearheaded by Carol Anderson, Turning The Tides received a grant from the Marine Conservation Alliance to cover gas for boats willing tohelp us. We had five boats ferrying crews to the islands and the sixth State Park boat in charge of picking up the collected trash. About 40 volunteers were recruited to spend the day cleaning up the beaches of these islands.

The crew of my team went to Portland Island, a brisk half-hour ride from Auke Bay. Besides the usual assortment of plastic bottles and cans, pieces of Styrofoam, ropes, and buckets, mostly plastic trash, which is sadly ubiquitous on exposed beaches, we also came across a few more unusual finds. A large red Coast Guard rescue inflatable raft was recovered from the north point of the island. The year it was last serviced, recorded in large black letters on it, was 1981! We also found a life-size headless deer shooting target made out of Styrofoam, a number of hunting bird decoys, buoys,  car wheels, and diesel containers with leftover diesel. All in all, we collected about 400 pounds of trash, leaving the large car wheel where we found it as it was too heavy to carry.

Of course, trash is not the only reason we ventured to these islands on that day. It was a warm, sunny, calm day, just perfect to be out on the water. Humpback whales were feeding on small fish, probably herring or capelin. Oystercatchers were busy staking out spots on the rocky beach for their so-called nests. Arctic tern were resting and feeding for their own egg-rearing. A better day could have hardly been picked.

One of the most anticipated events in Juneau, Alaska is the annual Wearable Art Extravaganza. A fashion show of extravagant dresses and costumes made from the most ingenious materials, it pushes the envelope of many of the artists’ creative thinking and abilities. Now in its 8th year, the theme for this year’s show was “Altered State”, a twist on Alaska’s 50th anniversary since becoming a state in the union. Due to its popularity as a fundraiser for an arts scholarship program and for the renovations of the Juneau Arts and Culture Center, the show has also been expanded to two days to accommodate everyone wanting to experience it.

This year’s Wearable Art had 33 entrants,  two from as far as Ketchikan and Homer. The idea for the event in Juneau was borrowed from the popular namesake event in Ketchikan and has taken a solid root since. However, the original wearable art was actually started as a fundraiser for a small art gallery in New Zealand and has since become a large international event there, drawing tens of thousands of visitors each year.

But let’s get back to Juneau. The materials used in this year’s show ranged from porcupine quills, moss, bark, and mahogany to mirrors, salvaged metals, phone books, prescription bottles, Skittles wrappers and shower curtains. People of all ages created wearable art and modeled it. Third place on both Saturday and Sunday was awarded to “Goldeneyespy”. Made of brass, fabric, styrofoam, working light bulbs, and many “hidden” objects that could only be noticed upon close inspection – like little toy birds in a cage or a large golden ant – it was truly a creative masterpiece.

“Pieces of Peace” took second place on Saturday and first place on Sunday. Created out of silk, bark chips, porcupine quills, spruce and pine needles, moss and lykens – it was literally a breathing piece of art. The bark for the dress was sent from countries in South America, Africa, Europe and Asia and most pieces had the word “peace” written on them in many different languages.

Finally, the piece that took first place on Saturday and second place on Sunday was made entirely out of solid and striped mahogany, ceder, and lace wood maple veneers. “Lady of the Wood” was created to resemble an 18th Century dress as closely as the all-wood materials allowed. This piece is heading to New Zealand to compete in the International Wearable Art Extravaganza.

Many other pieces were very imaginative and innovative, and it’s only the lack of space that holds me back from describing them. If you’re convinced it’s an event you don’t want to miss, the dates for next year’s show have already been set – February 13 and 14, 2010!

To see highlights of the show, click here.

But for the rest of us, the Mendenhall Glacier is special for the variety of hikes it offers around it and kayaking, skiing and skating in front of it. One of the easy light hikes that I often do with friends and family from out of town is a loop trail on the east side of the glacier. However, one of my favorite hikes is along the West Glacier trail and over the rocky outcropping sticking out into the Mendenhall Lake, to the icy caves of the glacier.

Last November, three of us, to say nothing of the dog, set off to explore the ever-changing face of the glacier. Right at the head of the trail, we caught a glimpse of Romeo, our other celebrity – a black wolf that has been coming down from the mountains for the past several years to spend his winters around the glacier.

The glacier was as charming as usual. I haven’t been to it in half a year, and it’s a bit unnerving to see how quickly it’s receding. In the eight years I have been in Juneau, it has lost a large chunk of its face, revealing more rocky mountains on either side. It’s said to see an old friend age so fast.

But the beauty of the dark blue ice caves lining the face of the glacier quickly took my mind off everything else. Those caves are very dynamic, constantly expanding and contracting, appearing and disappearing. No two hikes to them are ever the same.

On the way back, fog came over just as we were summiting the rocky outcropping, creating a surreal feeling of being lost in a strange land.

To see my friend Chelsea’s account of the hike, see her posting.

Luckily, several people outside the cafe directed us around the corner and we soon found two women standing outside, apparently in charge of the commotion. They directed us to a spot on the sidewalk and told us to wait. The bus arrived within 10 minutes and left at 10:30, half an hour ahead of schedule. Usually these buses are full of college students, as they are cheap, fast, reliable and a great way to travel between Boston, Baltimore, Philadelphia, Washington and NYC. This time, the crowd was different, going to D.C. with one purpose – to witness the inauguration.

We rolled into the D.C. Chinatown at 3 am on January 20th. People were wandering the brightly lit streets, police cars cruising everywhere, their lights throwing patriotic reds and blues on the surrounding buildings. Many cafes and diners were open, filled with people eating, drinking, talking and singing. It felt like an impromptu national holiday, a surreal late-night party in the wee morning hours, when alcohol is gone and everyone is half-asleep.

We decided to take the Metro to the Mall, a large rectangular open area between the U.S. Capitol and the Washington Monument, where most of the people were gathering for the ceremonies. As the Metro didn’t start running for another hour and it was a bit chilly outside, we dove into one of the basement eateries to keep warm. Tea, soup and chicken wings turned out to be the perfect snack for the occasion.

The Metro brought us within half a mile from the Mall. Streams of people were flowing in one direction, combining with streams from side streets into larger flows. Sirens and police lights everywhere blinded and stunned chilled and sleepy walkers. We silently entered the flow and drifted with the crowd. By 6 am we were as close as we could get to the Capitol, yet it was still 5 hours until the inauguration. Not wanting to freeze completely, we walked to the earliest-opening museum, one of the many lining the Mall, and half an hour after it opened were happily napping inside. It would’ve made for a perfect rest stop, if not for the crowd insisting on seeing the exhibits and periodically waking us up with their excitement.

By about 10:30 am, about half an hour before the official part of the ceremony was to begin, we were rested enough to venture outside. By then most of the Mall was full and we couldn’t get nearly as close to the Capitol as we did at 6 in the morning. We found a place on the outskirts of the crowd, by one of the huge-screen TVs. As we came to D.C. to see the people, rather than the official ceremony, I wasn’t paying as much attention to what was going on on the screen as the reaction of the people – booing whenever W. or Cheney would appear on the screen, clapping whenever one of the Clintons would be seen, and the cheer, joy and dancing when the Obamas themselves appeared.

By 1 pm, the official ceremony on the steps of the Capitol was over and the crowd started dissipating. As far as we could tell, the whole perimeter of the Mall was barricaded and closed off and no one seemed to knew exactly how to get out. We would follow the crowd in one direction, to find no escape at the end and turn back, only to come to another fence. What would have been a half-hour walk from the Mall to the Chinatown turned into a 5-hour journey. But it was worth it. To be in a crowd of this magnitude and leanings, it was an inspiring experience.

Here are Suzy’s photos from the trip (link) and a few more of my photos (link).

A ten-minute walk from my house puts me right in downtown Juneau, with its uniquely  disharmonious and unappealing architectural styles outside of the historical center. The white snow and the darkness of the night cover up many of the blemishes. Lurking through the darker streets with an old wooden surveyor’s tripod (thanks to Art Sutch for letting me borrow it, after I broke mine a week ago), looking for interesting combinations of lights and shadows. Crispness of the cold in the air. The last time I checked, it was 15° F in Juneau, 3° F in Anchorage, and – 30° F in Fairbanks. Happy New Year, everybody!

As I was walking past her mansion on Friday night, I couldn’t help but notice that even the grand entrance is no longer shoveled free of snow.

I did get a couple of shots of the  moonlight reflections in the Gastineau Channel next to downtown Juneau.

Although these islands require an effort to get to, they still see their share of junk and trash accumulated along their beaches. Tides, currents, waves and wind deposit remnants of commercial fishing and boating – nylon nets, rope, plastic bottles, plastic bags, plastic containers – whatever floats, along their shorelines. People who flock to these beaches  sometimes leave their trash behind – cans, camping and picnicking leftovers, shotgun shells, tarps. Some trash makes me wonder how it even finds its way to these small islands – airplane tires, tractor engines.

In August, Carol Anderson of Turning The Tides, a Juneau-based non-profit organization whose mission is to raise awareness about ocean issues and to promote ocean-friendly practices, clean-up efforts, waste reduction and sustainability, organized a beach cleanup of several of the nearby islands. About 10 volunteers on two boats spent a beautiful sunny, warm day collecting trash from beaches of Lincoln, North, and Benjamin Islands.

Of course, collecting other people’s trash might be a feel-good effort, but it wasn’t our treasure and is not a solution to littering. Plastics, even though they break down to smaller pieces, will theoretically linger forever, as there is no natural mechanism for them to decompose into basic elements. In the process, some release toxins that mimic or disrupt hormone pathways, among other negative effects, potentially leading to an increased chance of cancer. Avoiding use of disposable plastics – bags, water bottles, containers, forks and spoons – is one part of the solution. Not littering is another.

Berners Bay is a jewel of Southeast Alaska. Located just 45 miles north of Juneau, it is a picturesque small bay, accessible by kayaks and boats from the end of Juneau’s road system. Not only is the bay and its system of rivers an important spawning area for several species of fish, it is also a favorite recreational area for many Juneaunites. But, like so many pristine areas that are not far from population centers, it is threatened by a proposed road that will snake around it, and a near-complete mine that will tower on its East side.

Every spring, around the end of April – beginning of May, Berners Bay bursts to life with an explosion fueled by small and inconspicuous-looking fish. Returning from roaming the ocean, these fish enter Berners Bay and go up Berners and Antler Rivers to spawn. For just two weeks, what follows needs to be seen to be believed. The back of the bay, the delta area of two small rivers and sandy intertidal beaches, usually very tranquil and relaxing, explodes with thousands of sea gulls descending on the fish as they enter the rivers. Dozens of seals and sea lions follow the fish towards the sandy shallows of the rivers’ deltas, where they are out of the reach of orcas that also come in for a snack. Humpback whales show up in greater numbers than usual, often being the first and the last to greet a human visitor to the bay.

The culprit of this explosion is eulachon. Also known as hooligan, Thaleichthys pacificus, are an anadromous (living in saltwater and spawning in freshwater) species of smelt. They are so rich in fat when returning to spawn, if dried and lit, they will burn like candles. In fact, their high fat content is the reason they are so sought-after by so many birds and other animals. I can attest that they are very tasty to people, too, lightly fried or smoked.

I was graciously allowed by Pete Schneider, a U.S. Forest Service fisheries biologist, in charge of the Berners Bay eulachon study to join their field camp for several days during the eulachon run the past spring. I was hosted by two U.S.F.S. field biologists, Chad Hood and David Beatley, who worked out of the Hooligan Camp on a bank of Antler River, trapping, measuring and tagging the fish caught in three traps along the river. Although this year’s run was small, the experience gave me a greater appreciation of the importance of these fish to the whole Berners Bay ecosystem and provided me with a couple of photography projects I will be exploring over the next year.