When someone asks me why I love going to Alaska, my usual answer is that I go just for the hell of it. Except that’s not what I said.
I said halibut.
I go to Alaska just for the halibut.
I’m not into salmon. Never have been. I love almost all seafood, and I’ve always felt left out because I don’t enjoy salmon. In fact, since it’s served on Mother Airline so often, once or twice a year I give it another try, just to see if my taste buds have changed or if I’ve finally found the holy grail of salmon fillets.
When I attended my brother’s test marriage—the first one that didn’t take—Mom chose salmon as the entrée. I tried it and actually really liked it. A few weeks later, on a flight, I tried it again.
No.
No, thank you, take it away.
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| The famous halibut sandwich eaten open faced with jalapeno mayo, thank you |
Halibut, on the other hand... light, flaky, delish. It makes my eye roll back and I melt into a glob of happifaction (happiness+ satisfaction), complete with yummy sounds and toes curls.
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| F Street Station is known for the block of Tillamook sharp cheddar |
I was at F Street Station recently, sitting at the bar so I could watch the chefs prepare all the delicious meals. The cute couple next to me were chatting, and I caught on that this was their first time in Alaska.
Then Smitty handed them their food: a halibut sandwich and calamari. The calamari at F Street Station is out of this world, especially with the side of jalapeño mayonnaise. This mayo is so good that last season I was bringing plastic baggies to bring it home until I looked into a recipe. Now I buy fresh jalapeno peppers for not only my own spicy mayo, but making my own pickled peppers is SO freaking much better than any jar I've ever bought.
I got sidetracked watching Smitty dip halibut bites in flour and then beer batter before dropping them into the deep fryer. That’s when I heard the yummy noises coming from the couple to my left.
She started laughing at him. He was silent, his head tilted back. He was in another realm. I know that realm. “Don’t tell me,” I leaned in say. “He tasted the halibut, his eyes rolled back, and he’s melting in his seat.” She laughed and asked how I had guessed.
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| F Street crab sandwich |
“Oh, I know all about it. You ordered the best thing on the menu. Both those things. And try the crab sandwich.” Chef's kiss.
Anchorage is within a ten-hour flight of 90% of the industrialized world. Out of Houston, the flights to Anchorage are seasonal. We start in mid-May and end in mid-September. I caught on a little late last year when I saw a trip on the trade board and picked it up. Lucky me. I fell in love immediately. Not just for the halibut, but the weather, the 7-hour flight (I prefer them long), and watching how quickly the snow melts on the mountain tops, the way the sun dips below the horizon before rising again, and how quickly the days get shorter. In July the sun sets long after takeoff. By September it's getting dark when we leave the hotel.
I flew all of July through the end of the season in September. This year, I started at the beginning and managed to hold the trip for the entire season- purser.
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| 747s at the airport |
That means I’m the lead flight attendant. I coordinate with the flight deck, make the announcements, help out in economy, deal with those who need to be dealt with, and generally keep things moving on board.
There was a time when I loved flying purser and did it all the time. Then came the big COVID leave of absence that lasted four years, and the responsibility of being in charge of the flight became daunting. I suffered from brain fog for a long time and still struggle with it at times when I’m tired or overworked.
But I’d work any position if it meant escaping the Houston heat for a few days at a time on these Anchorage layovers. There was a retired pilot on one flight who asked what I do on my many layovers. Eat halibut. Throw back a few drinks at Darwin’s Theory, the bar tourists visit to become locals. I’d go to the Broken Blender more often, but most of my crew mates are scared of it. And on karaoke nights, I can hear it all from my room anyway. And with a 27-hour layover it’s also a great place to catch up on union work, do a little writing, and sleep all day.
Inside Darwin's Theory
But mostly?
Halibut.
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| Penguin on the bike trail |
I enjoy Anchorage to the point that I’m fairly sure if Mother Airline were to open a base there, I’d transfer. Oh, I do enjoy renting a bike and exploring the trails, spotting meese—what I like to call moose when there’s more than one—and stopping under the flight path to watch the numerous 747s landing at the airport. Gosh, I miss those planes.
It's not only the halibut. Other places I highly recommend are Uncle Joe's pizza right next door to Darwin's, Pel'Meni for Russian dumplings, Club Paris for steak, and the Red Umbrella street vendor for spicy reindeer sausage.
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| Dumplings at Pel'Meni |
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| Uncle Joe's pizza |
The long winter nights? I am penguin. I enjoy cold weather. Also, I am a vampire and generally come to life after 8 p.m. At night, my home is barely illuminated. I think I would thrive in the long nights there.
Now that the season is over, my heart is heavy. I miss seeing the passengers returning to Houston who remember me from their flight up to Alaska. Folks would bring treats on almost every flight. With so many people flying up to take cruises, go fishing, or board a train to visit Denali—the tallest peak in North America—they’re in such a great mood. We often liken them to our passengers when flying to Canada: some of the friendliest passengers in the world.
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| Midnight in September |
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| Midnight in Ju |
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| Love the mountains as we enter Alaska airspace |
For now, I’m enjoying a few trips to Hawaii—Honolulu, Maui, and Lihue—and Guatemala and San Salvador. I do love me some Peru, so I’m sure I’ll hit Lima up a lot as well.
But in the meantime... is it May yet?
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| The views of glaciers are amazing |
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| Like poetry? Get my books on your shelves!!! |
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