On the Loose in Kitschy-Kan
Talking to the locals to get the lay of the land
Kitschy-kan? “Yeah, kitschy-kan,” the local high schooler repeated. “This place is so damn kitschy.” He put down his half-consumed can of Coke and jumped off the bridge, clothes and all, into the marina below. Even at this latitude, the summer heat was driving the teen and his buddies into the water, an unusual occurrence here in Ketchikan, famous for its fishing and lately, it appears, much to the chagrin of many locals, tourists. The gang had now grown to about 12 adolescents united in their contempt of day-trippers.
As if on cue, a humungous, white, luxury liner cruised into port. The monster disgorged its passengers. Unconcerned, a local fisherman continued gutting his salmon, separating the entrails from the meat.
Ketchikan is a working town of approximately 9,000 souls perched at the southern tip of the Alaska panhandle. I had explored the town years ago as a freshly minted college grad seeking out the unusual and the unfamiliar.
Over one million cruisers a year also land in Ketchikan and are immediately greeted by a host of retailers offering beer, eats and gifts all wrapped up in in a massive, dockside emporium the minute they get off the boat. Tourism is big business. A more gentile environment awaits them along Creek Street, a…
