The kings are beginning their run up Ship Creek, the winding tidewater slough that runs through the industrial heart of Anchorage. Both the port and rail yard are adjacent to the stream. The good weather and the fish bring out the people. The people of Ship Creek are characters.
The Port of Anchorage, the largest in Alaska, is pretty small by most standards. But its busy. Provides an interesting backdrop to the salmon casters.
Too early in the season for combat fishing. In the trout streams of Montana, you'd get punched if you fished this close to someone else. Here, this is called "gentleman's elbow room". One of these guys is hung over. Another one is still drunk. Two are rookie fishermen. The last is a professor trying out his new spey rod. Make that 3 rookies.
Spartina? Salicornia? Distichlis? I can't remember anymore. You'd think after grid-plot counting acres of this stuff in Padilla Bay I'd never forget.
I bet this guy has a few stories to tell.
Ship Creek is deeply incised in to its own delta, mainly because of the huge vertical change in the local tides.
The city is extending the boat ramp, which basically involves plowing out a huge slug of soupy mud and sand offshore 100 yards. I watched the progress with a new friend, Russell. This big excavator waded right in - way down at the the end past the dozer - and got to work. Amazing how much muck a 3-yard bucket can move in 30 minutes.
You can recycle anything in Alaska. Just put it out by the curb.
Nothing better to do.
This friendly kid came over to me while I was taking pictures and started up a conversation. Said there had been a small whale in the Creek earlier today. We saw the same fish jump.