Petersburg: Alaska’s Little Norway

At a low slack tide on a Sunday, we carefully meandered through the maze of rocks and day marks that peppered the winding length of Wrangell Pass on our way to Petersburg.

Once we arrived, Matthew swung the boat into position for docking on the end tie and I stood on our transom steps, stern line in hand, and made ready to step onto the dock. A well-rehearsed procedure for us aboard Awesome, perfected with plenty of practice in various foul conditions. With Matthew at the helm, his motto, “Don’t dock your boat any faster than the speed at which you’re willing to hit the dock,” ensures our docking maneuvers are gentle, controlled, and serenely slow to unfold. But no matter how much experience you have, boating eventually throws you a new curve ball…

“Sea lion!!” I yelled, scrambling backwards, cursing my way in a panic up the transom steps. So much for a graceful approach. We were moments from my usual step-off to the dock when a behemoth denizon of Petersburg surfaced with a snort a few feet off our stern. He casually coasted along the surface, keeping his gnarly eye on me and looking every bit like a felon on parole. From nose to tail, this bull was nearly the width of our boat. He wasn’t coming at me directly, but he wasn’t exactly swimming off either. Based on his massive size, I doubt this sea lion -let’s just call him Joe- misses many meals around this productive fishing port and I’m guessing he was checking us out for catch-of-the-day snacks. Fortunately, the Petersburg docks and bull rails are well-off the surface level of the water, so I doubt Joe hauls out here. Once convinced we had nothing delicious, he submerged in the direction of the neighboring trawlers and we went back about our docking business, hearts a-pounding. Now I’ve added Joe to my l-o-n-g list of reasons why our daughter stays safely inside the cabin with her life jacket on while we’re docking. And I think I’ll start waiting for my step-off to the dock a little further back from the bottom transom stair from now on, just in case Joe has any like-minded cousins in other local ports.

Having made it past Joe, we’ve been enjoying Petersburg for the past couple days already and its Norwegian charm is intense. There is a delish, alfresco dining option in town, Inga’s Galley, that serves quality burgers and such and they cleverly manage the inevitable showers and cold of the outdoor dining space.

Along the main street, a few steps from the top of the docks, there is also a well-stocked grocer, a hardware store, a few restaurants and bars, and other assorted shops. Rosemaling is everywhere and I love it.

If you distilled and concentrated Poulsbo, WA into a much smaller area, you’d have the Borough of Petersburg. We’re lucky to have a friend connection in this town as well (thanks to Matthew and the power of Facebook), so more exploring outside the downtown area is on the docket. I’m eager to see more.

As we get in tune with the rhythm of this particular harbor, I can see that Joe keeps a fairly routine patrol of the slips in our vicinity and seems a much more benign presence than my first impression. Although I have no interest in another close encounter, at least I can scratch him off the list of my irrational Fear of the Slithery Dee (a post for another day).