I stood in the unrelenting sunlight all day to load passengers to to go Annette Island.

About 1,400 people live on Annette Island and every year they celebrate Founder’s Day (they were founded in 1887). 

It’s an island 50 minutes by boat from Ketchikan. On it is an Indian Reserve called Metlakatla, the recognized reserve in Alaska and the US. 

Our company offers a ferry ride to and from Metlakatla on our boat, the Sea Lion Express, for only $10 a pop. Offering the ride doesn’t make us any money, I’m not even sure if it covers the cost of fuel. We’ve only offered this service for two years so we didn’t have it down to a science. We didn’t sell tickets to anyone who wanted a ride, instead, folks had to wait in line to secure their spot. I’m not saying it was a brilliantly executed plan, but folks were getting a ride for $10. It’s time or money. 

By 10am, I was over it. The sun was unrelenting and I was dealing with angry people, confused people, but most of all greedy people who just wanted a spot on the dang boat. I wanted them to have that spot, but I couldn’t police the line if people jumped in front. People wanted me to police the line and tried to rat people out: “Ma’am, he’s drunk and he cut in line.” It was like elementary school and college in one sentence. 

Everything we do on the dock is very organized. We have radios with ear pieces to communicate amongst our group, we mention what our last passengers are wearing so we make sure not to leave without them. We walk over our last guests if we can, and we drive over any passengers with mobility issues. We offer wheelchair assistance down the ramp to make sure they are safe when the tide is out and the ramp is steep. I’m not sure of the exact price but the cost of the tour is more than $100 per person. 

Founder’s day was the complete opposite. There was a group of guys wearing beanies with marijuana leaves and dreads who I saw lighting up behind the popcorn stand. I just gave them one pregnant stare and walked away. One kid paid me for his $10 ferry ride in quarters and nickels.

One dude who had waited in line piped up: “You’re hot and you know it. You know that’s your problem, right?” 

I just glared at him and walked away. 

But one lady stood out in my mind. I’m not sure if she was drunk, mentally ill or both, but she was not a happy camper.

In the morning, she didn’t make it on the first charter because everyone else in line was ahead of her. We could only fit 48 people. 

She very aggressively said “All of these people in line should be Tsimshian and Haida. They should not be white people. This is our island!” and left the place. 

I did not have time to react. I think I stared at her in disbelief and discomfort. But I was just loading a ferry ride, I was not legislating morality or political correctness. She didn’t wait in line like everyone else, there was nothing I could do. 

She came back later in the day with large black suitcases. She waited in line for the 1 o’clock ferry ride.

As I started loading the boat, the people clamored to the front of the line and hastily walked down the ramp once I had taken their ten bucks. She was one of the very last people. 

I said “Ma’am, I am going to let you on this ferry ride, but you can’t be rude to the other passengers.” 

She responded, relieved that she was getting on, with: “Sometimes I get impatient.” 

I thought: Racial slurs and impatience aren’t really on the same playing field.. But I let her on. I think she would leave everyone alone because she made it onto the boat. 

What she said stuck with me. I grew up in the South where racism is clearly a part of our history and a constant reminder that we must continue to evolve. But racism against Native Americans is not something that was on my radar, not in the least, until I got to Ketchikan. The way many of the natives talk is distinguished, they have an accent in their speech that I can’t really describe but I know it when I hear it. OF COURSE this is not the case with all natives, but it is definitely a common trait. Their culture is still very much a mystery to me, but it runs deep here in Ketchikan, the city’s name is after the creek which was named by Native Americans. As I’ve been told, the Natives were pushed to this land because the settlers and overtakers did not want to live in the wet areas so they pushed the natives to live there. It is not a beautiful history. 

This brief interaction represented a deep undercurrent of bigotry and segregation that is still a problem here.