Maritime Roots

The SUV limousine pulls into the turnout near historic Libby Cannery. A brief nature walk through the rainforest under massive Hemlock and Cedar trees brings you to the cannery compound. Stop and take in the scene: the original buildings, plumbing, window panes, weathered wood siding. Listen to the rush and flow of the spectacular waterfall cascading just to your left. The Libby Cannery is special for this reason: it is intact. It looks like the workers stepped out at day's end… and simply vanished. Quietly walk through the main canning warehouse, as your guide explains the purpose of each historic machine: the indexer, the slicing tables, the rotary weigher and salter, the clencher, the retort, or steamer, the salmon storage bins. You can almost sense the ghosts of the workers who toiled here… imagine the roar of the machines, the sounds of men shouting as they unloaded the scows filled with luminous salmon. Step into the warehouse, where salmon nets, crab pots, and other equipment sits stacked neatly, as if waiting for fishermen to begin hauling it to nearby ships. Take your time as you roam the site, examining the old barracks, the docking facilities and outbuildings. This is your private tour — we use our flexible schedule to avoid the crowds, so the history is yours to enjoy.

Relax in our luxury limousine as your guide fills you in on the rich culture of Ketchikan's connection with the sea. As you travel, admire the gorgeous scenery of Ketchikan: sweeping ocean views, busy waterfront scenes, parks with ancient, original totem poles. At the end of the day, your luxurious travels through Ketchikan's maritime roots will leave you with a lasting connection to our hardworking town.

The Slime Line

Imagine if the title of your job was "belly slitter," "head decapitator," "gut puller," or "fish grader?" If you worked on the "Slime Line" in a cannery, one of these illustrious titles could have been yours. Imagine a full day (or longer!) of fish sliding toward you on a belt. Grab a fish, slit the belly, grab a fish, slit the belly… a mantra for the factory worker. Each fish was sent through the gambit of machines until it ended in its pre-determined container: a can. Where would it go? In the 1940's, with millions of its counterparts, it would likely end up in the rations supply of a WWII soldier. With canned salmon so plentiful, the soldiers quickly grew weary of "goldfish," as it was so nicknamed. Today fish canneries are primarily manned by college youth working summer jobs, and itinerant workers from a variety of backgrounds.

The Fish Pirates

In Ketchikan's early days, a "fish pirate" was something of a hero to the workingmen of the town. Canneries obtained large amounts of fish by capturing them in mechanical floating traps. Ketchikan fishermen considered these traps to be a threat to their livelihood, and any means to swindle the canneries was discreetly celebrated. Even when the canneries hired watchmen to guard the traps, they were pilfered, either by cunning or a simple bribe to the watchman to take a stroll. Many a fish pirate would steal salmon and sell those same fish back to the cannery he had just robbed! Witnesses could never seem to be found, and sympathetic juries often released scoundrels who were caught. The hardy days of pirating ended with statehood in 1959, when traps were deemed illegal.

Finding a Connection with your Food

"What's that boat doing over there?" your daughter asks. Your driver puts on the blinker and pulls into a turnout overlooking the Tongass Narrows. "I'll explain while we have a snack," he answers, and backs the limousine up toward the water. Opening the rear doors, he takes out a basket and reveals a sumptuous array of smoked salmon, crackers, homemade cappuccino brownies, sodas, and a thermos of coffee. The view before you is breathtaking: rippled water sparkling under the high summer sun, green-blue islands in the distance, and a lone ship trolling the sea. As you snack and enjoy the broad view, he explains that it is a hand-troller out for king salmon. The classic silhouette of the ship is pure Alaska. You will appreciate how taking a private tour allows for unique opportunities to capture a moment worth remembering.

The Working Girls of Ketchikan's Past

Sixty years ago, when a twenty-year-old sailor offloaded his catch to a Ketchikan cannery and departed with a fist-full of money, he was likely headed to one place: Creek Street. Men were not the only ones profiting from Alaskan salmon! As you walk the boardwalks of the former red-light district, imagine the raucous scene from decades past: women lounging in doorways, men stumbling along the walkway, a scream, breaking glass, a gunshot. After a particularly rowdy night, a body might be seen floating in the water below one of the girls' houses. In 1926, William Randolph Hearst published a full-page story that ran coast-to-coast in the Lower 48, describing Ketchikan as "ridden with vice, corruption and depravity" and called it "the worse pest hole in America." Today we laugh at our rich and rocky past: it gives us character.