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Mass Visitation
Cruise ships invade southeast Alaska
BY ALETA RAPHAEL-BROCK

Between May 6 and Sept. 26, 1,000 to 8,000 cruise ship passengers infiltrate Southeast Alaskan towns each day. The monumental pasty white boats chug up the Inside Passage and plow through narrow waterways, leaving trails of sewage in the water and plumes of smog in the air. The herds of tourists have not only changed the local market, but have played a significant role in the experiences of private visitors and locals a like.

Summit Boat #1: A cruise ship holding up to 2000 passengers moors in the Tongass Narrows. When the Ketchikan dock is full, the ships shuttle tourists to and from the shore.

I was in Ketchikan, the southernmost Alaskan city, for summer employment. I shared a small, shingled shack on a steep road overlooking the Tongass Narrows with friends who had previously acclimated to the rain and the slippery feeling of plastic pants. Southeast Alaska claims up to 200 inches of precipitation per year. As a naturalist, I saw in my surroundings the unharmed integrity that I wished were intact in my native Oregon. Even though I knew that the Bush administration had authorized thousands of acres of logging in the Tongass National Forest in 2003, I felt that its pristine quality had not yet been destroyed.

Among this green and luscious beauty I had a glimpse into a rare and interesting world. I worked as a naturalist guide at an ecological reserve on the southern part of the Revillagigedo Island. The hiking trail curved around a beautifully active salmon spawning creek and opened into a wide estuary. The clientele was mostly cruise passengers. At 6 am they were wide-eyed, sometimes grumpy, sometimes fascinated, and usually sporting white sneakers through the muddy Alaskan rainforest.

The abundance of ignorant questions and terrifying comments from these tourists was shocking. I was pleased to have a few moments of relief. A couple from New Jersey finally understood the meaning of farm-raised salmon and a man from Detroit had his first sighting of a bald eagle in the wild.

On several occasions, I wondered if these displaced visitors had taken the time to research their destination. They seemed to think they were going to play with funny polar bears and watch Inuit tribes in igloos.

After going over basic ecology and botany of the lush rainforest and watching bald eagles, kingfishers, and spawning salmon, I would lead my tour to visit with a local carver. A man of the Tsimshian nation displayed his carving abilities on the ancient trunk of a red cedar.

He would explain to the groups that carving was done differently these days. Chainsaws were used to cut away the larger chunks of wood and metal had replaced stone in the carving tools. "Sorry," he said amongst looks of disappointment. "We are modern people."

Once, during a small tour, a woman so valiantly spoke up. "So, when did you learn to speak the English language?" she asked the carver, her voice slow and meticulous. The carver was stunned and nearly unable to respond to her ignorance. His native tongue had been massacred along with his people and he only knew a few words. He entered kindergarten like normal Americans. He guessed he was fluent by 4. I grew seriously troubled with the quality of public education and lack of recognition of America's bloody history.

The ambiance and the authenticity of this small, beautiful city definitely took a hit when the cruising industry gained popularity. The waterfront is packed with bling-bling jewelry shops and 50-cent curios stores selling miniature carvings made in China. The historic totem parks are nearly unapproachable during docking hours. The only way to really appreciate Southeast Alaska is to get out of town, hike up into the steep alpine areas or boat out to an uninhabited island. The torrents of mass tourism will never quell the beauty of the area; however, my next visit will be planned accordingly.

From observing the cultural effects of cruise ships in my own country, I am weary of the influence of mass visitation in more fragile parts of the world. An August 2005 Morning Edition on NPR debated whether or not a boost in tourism in the Galapagos Islands may provide a compromise between fishermen and conservationists. Sure enough, the Galapagos is the "hot new destination" for Celebrity Cruises and other major cruise liners including Royal Caribbean. Hopefully, the new hoards of visitors have provided hot new jobs in the tourism industry for all those former fishermen.   


Aleta Raphael-Brock is a free-lance writer and former EW intern.

 



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