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A Jaunt Through JuneauAlaska’s Capital CityBy Margaret DeefholtsA fine drizzle envelops Juneau as I walk along the dock. Across the gray waters of the Gastineau Channel the mountains are humpbacked shadows with thin skeins of cloud drifting across their summits. The S.S. Universe Explorer is the only cruise ship on the wharf today, and despite the weather passengers continue to flock down the ramp. They wear yellow rain-slickers over thick jackets or hooded parkas as a defense against the rapier-sharp Alaskan wind. Two fellow cruisers catch up with me. They are my dining table companions and, with the easy camaraderie that develops on a ship as small as the Universe Explorer, we’ve become friends, exchanging notes from scrapbooks of the past: memories of other travels, childhood haunts, and anecdotes about our respective families. Darlene is a vivacious 58 year old brunette, and her husband Jack, two years older, is a rangy Gary Cooper like figure. “C’mon,” Darlene says, linking arms with me. “Let’s go hit the fleshpots of Juneau!”
Juneau boasts other distinctions too. Prior to being designated as Alaska’s capital city in 1906, it was the first Alaskan town founded by America in 1880 following the territorial acquisition of the State from Russia. The borough boundaries cover 3,108 sq. miles so it is, geographically speaking, one of the largest cities in the world. Towering to a height of 3,800 feet, Mount Juneau and Mount Roberts seal the city off from the interior which means that Juneau is accessible only by boat or plane. Today it is home to 30,000 people, comprising approximately half the population of South East Alaska. My companion stands up to leave. “Be sure to take a look at our State Museum,” she advises. “It’s real interesting. Lots of old photos of the miners and loggers. There’s even a group picture with my dad in it. He was a fisherman back then.” But I have to forego the pleasure of seeing the Alaska State Museum this time around. The S.S. Universe Explorer is due to leave Juneau in less than an hour so I reluctantly retrace my steps back to the wharf. I glance at my guidebook again, wishing I’d had the time to visit several other attractions including St. Nicholas Russian Orthodox Church, the Capitol building, and the Juneau-Douglas City Museum. “Oh well,” says Darlene as I whine about this at the dining table, “all the more reason for us to come back again next year!” I respond with an emphatic thumbs up “Right on lady!” . IF YOU GO:(Juneau7.jpg)While several cruise ships ply the Alaska coast, the World Explorer Cruise line offers a unique experience. Relax in an informal atmosphere aboard the S.S. Universe Explorer, a smaller ship which offers a huge selection of shore excursions, a great reference library, absorbing lectures on anthropology, history, biology and astronomy, a series of light classical concerts and a variety of fun-filled interactive shipboard events. 8, 9, and 14 day cruises run through the summer (from Vancouver, British Columbia) until August 20, 2002. In addition, two 18-day cruises are scheduled through the Panama Canal and Central America. The first one (December 12th -30th ) starts in Nassau and ends in Ensenada Mexico; the second (December 30th 2002 - January 17th 2003) goes from Ensenada, to Miami Contact your local travel agent, or obtain details of schedules and costs from: World Explorer
Cruises Inc., IMAGES BY MARGARET DEEFHOLTS |
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Juneau’s nearest
approximation to a ‘fleshpot’ is the “Red Dog Saloon”, a crowded honky-tonk
tavern reminiscent of the days of Alaska’s gold rush boom in the early
1900s. Slatted swing doors lead into a room where the walls are crowded with
mounted bearskins, moose heads, stuffed beavers, black-and-white photos of
miners, prospectors and fishermen—the last group wearing smug grins as they
hold aloft their salmon trophies. Wooden posts, thickly covered with
business cards of visitors from all over the world, punctuate the room—and
for the sake of convenience a staple gun is within easy reach on the counter
should a visitor wish to add to the collection. The floor is inches deep in
sawdust. Their liquor menu lists only two items: “Expensive Shit” ($5.56)
and “Cheap Shit” ($3.24). I forego both varieties of shit, and decide to
gorge on a little horseflesh instead. “Dead horse Gulch” turns out to be
less bloody than the name implies. It consists of smoked beef brisket served
with barbecue dipping sauce, and an accompanying coleslaw salad. Not bad at
all
Somewhere along the
way, Darlene, Jack and I lose one other. It doesn’t really matter. I shelter
from the drizzle under sidewalk awnings and peer at window displays.
Although some of the shops still stock the usual kitsch of key chains, totem
poles and mass produced Eskimo dolls, most of the boutiques and art
galleries are filled with expensive merchandise. The windows glitter with
jewelry (amethysts, diamonds and sapphires set in filigreed gold earrings,
necklaces and bracelets) as well as furs, Lladro porcelain figurines, oil
paintings, West Coast native carvings of wood, antler horn and walrus ivory,
tooled leather knife sheathes, bead ornaments, and an interesting variety of
Russian Matreshka dolls, cloisonné trinkets and pretty miniature boxes of
woven bark. The gold-rush days are over, but Juneau’s wealth still pours in,
mined today from the pockets of tourists who gladly invest in the town’s
abundance of superbly crafted objets d’art. With an average 450,000 summer
visitors to the town each year, this translates to the equivalent of several
pounds of shiny gold nuggets. 
For all its veneer of
sophistication, Juneau also has a folksy charm. I sit on a park bench
munching on an apple and a local resident joins me for a chat. She is an
elderly woman with black boot-button eyes, high Indian cheekbones and an
infectious gurgling laugh. Her family roots in Juneau go back many
generations, and she tells me that her great-grandfather was a seal trapper
who traded with the Russians when this area was still a forested wilderness.
“I remember when Front Street was just a dirt road,” she says. “That was
back in the late ‘20s when I was six years old. Then in the ‘30s it became
one of the first paved streets in Alaska.”