The contrast between a voyage across the open ocean and a sail of two weeks in this inland sea is notable. In the former instance the voyagers find fruitful themes in the vast expanse and fabulous depth of the ocean, the huge monsters and tiny creatures occupying it, the record of the ship’s progress, her exact tonnage, and the trade in which she has been engaged since she was launched. Few persons have in themselves sufficient intellectual resources not to become oppressed with ennui under the circumstances. Between Puget Sound and Glacier Bay how different is the experience! There is no monotony here; every moment is replete with curious sights, every succeeding hour full of fresh discoveries. The panoramic view is crowded all day long with sky-reaching mountains, scarred by wild convulsions; verdant islands embowered in giant trees; rocky peaks rising from the bottom of the sea to a thousand feet and more above our topmast head; cascades tumbling down precipitous cliffs; Indian hamlets dotted by totem-poles; canoes gliding over the silent surface of the deep channels; inlets crowded with schools of salmon; mammoth glaciers emptying themselves into the sea and forming opaline icebergs sharply reflecting the sun’s dazzling rays. There is no time for ennui among such scenes as these; the eyes are captivated by the beauty and the variety, while the imagination is constantly stimulated to its utmost capacity.
The flora of this far northern country does not exhibit the wonderful luxuriance and productiveness which captivates us in the tropics, though one gathers some extremely attractive specimens. Neither the flowers, the insects, nor the birds are marked with the brilliancy of color which distinguish those bathed continually in waves of equatorial sunlight. Here, grandeur prevails over beauty; the trees, if not so verdant, excel in size and majesty; the mountains, in height; the rivers, in volume and length; while the glaciers are without comparison in magnitude and power. Here, is simplicity, vastness, magnificence; there, fertility, fragrance, loveliness. Neither in the north nor in the south is there the least infringement upon the great harmonies of Nature; admirable consistency and order exist everywhere, typifying a great, overruling, supreme Intelligence.
We pause for a moment amid the silent tranquillity to sum up our experience while gliding along this beautiful and peaceful inland sea on the return voyage. The author does not hesitate to pronounce Alaska to be one of the most attractive regions in the world for summer tourists. From early June to September the temperature prevailing upon the entire route is equable, the thermometer ranging all the while between sixty and seventy degrees Fah. The progress of the steamer always creates a gentle and agreeable breeze, which renders warm clothing desirable, especially at early morning and in the evening, though these are periods not so distinctly defined as with us in New England. An overcoat is rarely rendered necessary or desirable. If the mosquitoes are troublesome at certain places on shore, in marshy regions, they are never so on the water, as the breeze inevitably drives such insects away. Let us say especially there is no other such inviting resort for pleasure yachts as this inland, island-dotted sea of Alaska. If the fogs put in an appearance sometimes in the morning, they are after a while burned away by the warmth of the sun. Local rains on shore are to be occasionally endured, but they are no great drawback to observation and brief excursions. At Sitka, Wrangel, and Juneau several showers may occur during the day, with intervals of bright and cloudless skies between. We have witnessed seven copious, well-sustained showers of rain on a May forenoon in Chicago, the intervals sandwiched with sunshine of gorgeous clearness and warmth. Why pretend that Alaska is exceptional in this respect? The weather is not perfect, according to our estimate, anywhere. Finally the extended trip upon the boat was found to cover a little over two thousand miles in all, and was with us one of continuous pleasure, enlivened by as bright and cheerful weather as one experiences on an average elsewhere, winding among an immense archipelago of mountains, emerald islands, and land-locked bays, through narrow channels dominated by precipitous cliffs, and crossing broad, lake-like expanses as placid as the serene blue overhanging all.
No other government on the globe, in this nineteenth century, would permit so large and important a portion of its territory to remain unexplored. Congress should send at once a thoroughly equipped scientific expedition, competent to report minutely upon the geology, fauna, flora, and geography of this immense division of the country. It is more than an oversight, it is a gross blunder, not to do this without further delay. If our own pen-pictures of this neglected Territory shall incite to the fulfillment of such an act of official duty, these pages will have served at least one important purpose.
“With a comparatively mild climate,” says C. E. S. Wood, in an account of a visit to Alaska, printed in the “Century Magazine,” “with most valuable shipbuilding timber covering the islands, with splendid harbors, with inexhaustible fisheries, with an abundance of coal, with copper, lead, silver, and gold awaiting the prospector, it is surprising that an industrious, shipbuilding, fishing colony from New England or other States has not established itself in Alaska.”
The political condition of Alaska is anything but creditable to our country. It has little more than the shadow of a civil government, and is entirely without any land laws by which a resident can secure a title to the soil upon which he builds his house. The act of Congress dated May 7, 1884, providing an apology for a civil government, was not passed until twenty years after the Territory had been acquired. As a consequence the material progress of the country and its inviting possibilities remain undeveloped. With the extension of the United States local laws to this section, immigration would be at once promoted and various industries established. “Why we are so neglected is incomprehensible,” said a resident of Sitka. “All we ask is the same advantages enjoyed by the citizens of the other Territories of the United States.” It is certainly to be hoped that Congress will give early attention to this important matter, for Alaska is destined to become one of our most valuable possessions. We shall be excused for making use of so strong an expression, but it is only too true that her interests have been persistently and shamefully neglected by the law-makers at Washington.
“Like the dog in the manger,” says Miss Kate Field, “Congress will do nothing for Alaska, nor will it permit Alaska to do anything for herself locally, or at Washington through a delegate. Yet, in 1890, two islands of this despised and neglected province will have paid into the United States Treasury $6,340,000,—within one million of Alaska’s entire purchase!”
The present comparative isolation of Alaska will not be of long duration; not only are the facilities for reaching the Territory being annually increased from the east, but it is being also rapidly approached in this respect from the west. The Russian government is building a railroad in almost a straight line from Moscow to Behring Sea, which it is confidently believed will be completed within five years. Direct communication will thus be established between St. Petersburg and the Russian Pacific ports, through Siberia, whose most easterly point is less than forty miles from the soil of Alaska.
After sailing four or five days southward, bearing always slightly to the east, through a wilderness of islands and along the mountain-fringed coast of the mainland, the ship comes upon the open sea, and the passengers realize for a short time the effect of the Pacific Ocean swell. The sensitiveness of some people to its influence is as remarkable as the stolid indifference of others. Here, where the Japanese Current meets the cold air from off the coast, fogs are very liable to prevail, though it was not so in the writer’s case. We are now in comparatively open navigation and can lay our course without fear. Soon Queen Charlotte’s Sound is entered, and for a day and a half the steamer again skirts the picturesque shore of Vancouver, whose features are reproduced in the deep, quiet waters with marvelous distinctness, until finally we are once more landed at Victoria, the capital of British Columbia.
We are frequently asked since our return what clothing and other articles one should take, with which to make the inland voyage through Alaskan waters. This is easily answered.