Seagulls and Soil in Kotzebue

Late this week, the weather resembled an Oregon Coast winter transplanted to the Far North.  There were white caps on windblown waves pounding against the shore of the lagoon. Misty rain came down in sheets; windy and cool. The winter quiet had arrived.

The seagulls were happily gliding in the wind, dancing on currents with little effort. From our living room window, I could see them coasting between the apartment complex across the street and Teacher Housing building A. Those green-painted units house seasonal workers for AIC, some acronym that begins with the word Alaska and has to do with constructing roadways or other transportation methodologies.

Steel frames help to position piling.

AIC workers are thrusting metal sheet piling into the ocean sand along Shore Avenue. Most people refer to this roadway as Front Street because it is the ancient front door of Kotzebue, as evidenced by the oldest dwellings located there. AIC will finish their work this year sometime in October as winter will dip to sometimes 30 below and the permafrost will be impenetrable.  In spring, they will resume the project with completion expected sometime before fall.

The project is an attempt to stave off erosion, which is shrinking the roadway along the street. The metal sheet piling is also meant to provide protection from large chunks of ice that can run aground and slam into cars and homes while rushing through the channel during Break up.

Erosion is a real problem in Alaska. A recent article in the Arctic Sounder mentioned that scientist have found that because the Freeze up occurs later each year, the ocean waves and rushing rivers have more time to eat away at the banks of of towns and villages. When I recently visited the Eskimo village of Kivalina, I saw a sea wall comprised of huge boulders that had been barged in from far away. It is hoped they will hold dirt on the peninsula. Backyards along the ocean shore have fallen into the ocean and been swept away by currents.

Five years ago community stakeholders considered relocating Kivalina but decided instead to try this method without doing any studies on whether it would work. It was a cheaper solution than moving a village and more funding was available for the project. Uprooting families that had lived there for countless generations played a factor in deciding not to move the village.

The gulls outside my window enjoyed their flights. Some just hoovered above and others rocketed through the air on those invisible currents. Some flew in twos, others solo. Beneath them the wind forced waves of salty water against the shore, depositing foam on the pebbled shore. In my flu-caused delirium, I thought it had been the first hint of snow.

A small plane lifted its front and and then back wheels off the runway located along the opposite shore of the lagoon. The take off was somewhat blurred by the misty rain. More than likely the transport was traveling to a neighboring village carrying people or Internet orders. More than four charter and commercial airlines fly in and out of this hub city every day.

No more seagulls to watch. Rain fell softly outside the fogged up windows. The quiet of the day lingered. The muse was finished with me for that day, and I longed for Rick to be home watching the gulls.