A blog by Bill Hess

Running Dog Publications

P.O. Box 872383 Wasilla, Alaska 99687

 

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Wasilla

Wasilla is the place where I have lived for the past 29 years - sort of. The house in which my wife and I raised our family sits here, but I have made my rather odd career as a different sort of photojournalist by continually wandering off to other places to photograph people and gather information, which I have then put together in various publications that have served the Alaska Native Eskimo, Indian and Aleut communities.

Although I did not have a great of free time to devote to this rather strange community, named after a Tanaina Athabascan Indian chief who knew Wasilla in the way that I so impossibly long to, I have still documented it regularly over the past quarter-century plus. In the early days, my Wasilla photographs focused mostly upon my children and the events they participated in - baseball, football, figure skating, hockey, frog catching, fire cracker detonation, Fourth of July parade - that sort of thing. 

In 2002, I purchased my first digital camera and then, whenever I was home, I began to photograph Wasilla upon a daily basis, but not in a conventional way. These were grab shots - whatever caught my eye as I took my many long walks or drove through the town, shooting through the car window at people and scenes that appeared and disappeared before I could even focus and compose in the traditional photographic way.

Thus, the Wasilla portion of this blog will be devoted both to the images that I take as I wander about and those that I have taken in the past. Despite the odd, random, nature of the images, I believe they communicate something powerful about this town that I have never seen expressed anywhere else. 

Wasilla is a sprawling community that has been slapped down hodge-podge upon what was so recently wilderness of the most exquisite beauty. In its design, it is deliberately anti-zoned, anti-planned. In the building of Wasilla, the desire to make a buck has trumped aesthetics and all other considerations. This town, built in the midst of exquisite beauty, has largely become an unsightly, unattractive, mess of urban sprawl. Largely because of this, it often seems to me that Wasilla is a community with no sense of community, a town devoid of town soul.

Yet - Wasilla is my home and if I am lucky it will be until I grow old and die. Despite its horrific failings, it is still made of the stuff of any small city: people; moms and dads, grammas and grampas, teens, children, churches, bars, professionals, laborers, soldiers, missionaries, artists, athletes, geniuses, do-gooders, hoodlums, the wealthy, the homeless, the rational and logical, the slightly insane and the wholly insane - and, yes, as is now obvious to the whole world, politicians, too.

So perhaps, if one were to search hard enough, it might just be possible to find a sense of community here, and a town soul. So, using my skills as a photojournalist and a writer, I hope to do just that. If this place has a sense of community, I will find it. If there is a town soul to Wasilla, I will document it. I won't compete with the newspapers. Hell no! But as time and income allow, it will be fun to wander into the places where the folks described above gather, and then put what I find on this blog.

 

by 300...

Anywhere within a 300 mile radius of Wasilla. This encompasses perhaps the most wild, dramatic, gorgeous, beautiful section of land and sea to be found in any comparable space anywhere on Earth. I can never explore it all, but I will do the best that I can, and will here share what I find and experience with you.  

and then some...

Anywhere else in the world that I happen to get to, such as Point Lay, Alaska; Missoula, Montana; Serenki, Chukotka, Russia; or Bangalore, India. Perhaps even Lagos, Nigeria. I have both a desire and scheme to get me there. It is a long shot. We shall see if I succeed.

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Wednesday
Jun082011

Tikigaq: belugas pass by in the night

I did not have access to a snowmachine in Point Hope, and so this is how I mostly traveled across the ice - on a sled - in this case, a basket sled - towed by someone else. This particular basket sled was a real rough rider. It projected each bump and jolt right through the wood frame into me. At the back, there was a cross bar at shoulder level and another at the bottom and the space in between was open.

I carried two camera bodies and three lenses. I kept one camera body and lens slung over my neck where I could access it to take an occasional picture as I bounced along. I packed the other body and two lenses into a small backpack, which was then positioned directly between my shoulders and the top cross bar.

Out at the lead, belugas swam by in significant numbers. The people take belugas also, but they did not land any while I was with them, in part because when a large number of beluga passed right by the ice edge the umiak was in the water in pursuit of a bowhead. 

There were plenty of hunters left at the ice edge, but by protocol they could not fire as long as that umiak was in the water following a bowhead.

In the morning, somewhere between 2:00 and 3:00 AM, I zipped two lenses and a body into my pack, slung the other body and lens over my neck and climbed back into the basket sled and then we headed back to the village.

As always, it was a bouncy ride but it was not long before I was dropped off in front of Jesse and Krystle's house.

Krystle was still up when I stepped in, so I greeted her and then went to sling my pack off my back, but was surprised by how light it felt. Then, in horror, I realized the pack was empty. The force of the camera and lenses repeatedly being bounced against the back flap had undid the zipper and somewhere between here and the lead my camera and lenses had exited the bag, passed through the space between the back cross bars and who knew where they were now?

I felt sick inside. If I could not get them back, the lenses and body were expensive and there was no way I could afford to replace them at this time. With just one body and a wide angle-lens only, I would be crippled for the remainder of my trip.

And then there were the beluga pictures in that camera. I did not want to lose the beluga pictures. In many ways, I felt worse about that possibility than about the loss of the equipment.

Krystle offered to go out with me and help me look, but first I had to duck into the restroom.

Before I came out, I heard a snowmachine pull up to the house. It was Jesse, who had been out at camp a short distance up the lead from the Rock's. He had found my lenses and the body and now had them in his pocket. 

Thank you, thank you, thank you, Jesse!

Now, a few beluga pictures, which I might as well make into studies, if for no other reason than to create a little separation between frames.

Tikigaq beluga study #1.

Tikigaq beluga study #2.

Tikigaq beluga study #3.

Tikigaq beluga study #4.

Tikigaq beluga study #5.

Tikigaq beluga study #6.

Tikigaq beluga study #7.

Tikigaq beluga study #8.

Tikigaq beluga study #9.

Tikigaq beluga study #10.

Tikigaq beluga study #11.

Tikigaq beluga study #12.

 

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Reader Comments (12)

Wonderful pictures. Just wonderful. Hope you and Margie are feeling better. I'm pretty sure that the Mahoney horses cannot be blamed for this...

June 8, 2011 | Unregistered Commenterdebby

Absolutely beautiful. I can't imagine the adventure you had getting those. Hope you're both feeling better!

June 8, 2011 | Unregistered CommenterMikey

Thank you, as always, for sharing. So beautiful.

June 9, 2011 | Unregistered CommenterAma

beautiful pictures!!!

June 9, 2011 | Unregistered Commentertwain12

Tikigaq beluga study #12 is the best fish picture I have seen in a long whale.

June 9, 2011 | Unregistered CommenterMartin Garrod

Thank you, Bill. Photos are wonderful.

June 9, 2011 | Unregistered CommenterGrandma Nancy

Hey Uncle, thanks for the link. I am falling in love with your pictures. Amazing photographs. I am missing all the expeditions that you are doing. Glad you got your body and lens back, phew!

Talk to you soon..

G

June 9, 2011 | Unregistered CommenterGane

Beautiful pictures. You had a little trip to heaven. Thanks for sharing. How can anyone kill them? I mean I can understand if someone has to do it to keep their family from starving, but otherwise I can't.

June 9, 2011 | Unregistered CommenterWakeUpAmerica

God!! I remember your email about this incident Uncle!!! :) I am so so glad you got them back... looking at the pictures now I can sense that panic you would have had that moment! Amazing Pics...jus amazing.Wonderful..

June 10, 2011 | Unregistered CommenterSuji

All: Thank you.

Martin: Thank you, too, but you would never want to call any kind of whale a fish when you are in Alaska.

Gane and Suji - yes, I am glad, too.

WakeUpAmerica - Yes, it is kind of remarkable how a place can be so frigid and cold and yet be heaven, but it certainly be.

For the benefit of any readers who drop in here but did not see your the comment of similar sentiment that you left on my post of June 6, I drop my response to that comment in here as well:


WakeUpAmerica: When you look at those beautiful pictures, try to imagine the harsh nature of the climate that has created such beauty. This is not a place where a farmer can sew his crop of wheat or pluck the apples from his orchard. One does not send cattle out to graze here. Point Hope is an ancient community - perhaps the most ancient in all America. People lived and thrived here long before the place you live was walked upon.

How do you think this happened? How were people able to thrive in such a wonderful but severe place? It was the whale that brought life to the people of the region and caused this place to thrive. It was the creator of this world, Whoever or whatever that creator might be, who set this system up and the fact that we now live in a world where modern transportation makes it possible to buy a gallon of milk for $8 to $10 does not change this.

This is the food of this land, and if you were ever to get out and spend significant time in the outdoors of this place you would find your store bought food to be inadequate to the demands this environment places upon the human body.

No one has done more to "save the whales" than have the Iñupiat who depend upon them, who have an intimate relationship with them, who know them better than does anyone else and who love them even more than do you and any others who share your well-meaning but misplaced and unknowing sentiment.

these photos are breathtaking! i have always wanted to visit alaska. this makes me wish for it that much more. you are very fortunate to be able to experience such beauty.

June 12, 2011 | Unregistered Commentermomsbusy

momsbusy - hope you make it.

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