cook asked us where we were headed and when we told him Sanak,, he just rolled his eyes and left, not saying a word. All the people who tell us stories about Sanak have never been there. I am anxious to find out about the place for myself.
At each port of call, we picked up more passengers. A nurse named Mary Light boarded at Ketchikan and Father Popoff came on at Juneau. During those years of mistrust about the Communist, I figured he was a Russian spy masquerading under religious cover.
From our newspaper, I read that North Korean and UN forces were starting peace talks at a place near the 38th Parallel, yet at the same time our troops were being killed by Communist artillery fire on nearby Fool's Hill. I suspected, Father Popoff had to be part of a similar Russian Communist deception here in our part of the world. But in truth, I found that the Korean War was the furthermost thing from his mind. He was the much beloved Russian Orthodox priest respected by all in the westward islands.
We were ready to cast off at Seward, when two taxis sped down the dock, screeched to a stop by the GARLAND and unloaded four sets of teachers. They were heading out to their respective Alaska Native Service teaching stations along the westward chain. It was no wonder that the crew labeled the September run of the GARLAND "The Schoolmarm Special."
Passengers were soon sleeping all over; in the mess hall, on the tables, on the seats, in the passageways, and even one guy in the cargo hold. I was asked to give up my space so the nurse could share the stateroom with Marie. However, everyone made light of the inconvenience. We all became one big, low budget cruise boat.
This old sea dog got seasick going across the Gulf of Alaska, while my farm-bred wife who had never been to sea, was bright eyed and cheery. Marie was the only passenger who never missed a meal. So much for any macho bragging rites in our marriage!
All the ANS teachers were federal employees from the US Bureau of Indian Affairs. They were an independent rugged lot, who over the years had developed a close-knit camaraderie. Each couple lived a very lonely professional life in their isolated native villages, yet when meeting every two or three years aboard ship or at conferences, they'd grab each other by the shoulders, call out their nick-names, and swap Alaskan stories. It was like old home week for them on the Schoolmarm Special.
The one connecting link they had, that we Territorial teachers did not have, was their weekly radio schedule. Being a US Government institution they had a special radio frequency set aside daily for official school business, but always some personal messages managed to slip in.
One giant ANS teacher from Nikolski and her “Casper-milk-toast” husband, had just returned from gambling in Reno and were still at it aboard the GARLAND. A lone thirteen-year-old native boy wanted to join in their game. They let him play and soon had him in a sink or swim decision. He moaned that what he put in the pot was all he had. We watched, as the hard-nosed teacher said, "Put up or shut up!" The next hand, she parted him from all his gambling money, and added, "Your school play-days are over, kid. This is the real school of hard knocks!"
Sept 6th Left Kodiak at 10:30 They still couldn’t get our radar fixed. We are plugging thru the fog without it. We now have 24 passengers, 10 teachers, 1 missionary, 1 nurse, 1 Russian Orthodox Priest (he looks just like Joseph Stalin), 2 Aleut natives, 2 young boys, a Cannery Supt, his wife and 5 kids. Now all the crew know us but don't call us by name, we are just called "The Sanak Kids."
As we headed west from Kodiak, we started letting people off at each Aleut village. Mary Light, the missionary nurse, was dropped off at Afognak. The Russian Priest was headed for Karluck via Squaw Harbor. The Barnett's were dropped at Belkofski. None of the native villages had docks, so small fishing dories would come out to the anchored GARLAND. A native fisherman would stay in his dory, maneuvering it along-side the bouncing ship in the big swells, trying to get close enough for the crew to safely drop supplies, mail and people into the small space between the dories pointed bow and their pointed stern. When one would get its load, the next one would maneuver into position. It was a perilous situation and had to be done with tremendous skill and a little bit of luck.
Sept 7th Sandy talked with the Russian Priest. After much communication, he understood him to say, that in the outlying villages the teacher is always No. 1 and the Priest is No. 2. The missionary thinks the Priest is going out to start trouble in the villages by collecting money. The friends of the Priest on board tell us they think the missionary nurse is going out to start some trouble between Orthodox believers and the fundamentalists. In the newspaper, I just read in the religious section that an Arab boy had just found some old scrolls in a cave near the Dead Sea, but experts say they don't think they are authentic relics. Wouldn't it be great if they could shed some light on what really happened back in those days?
The Aleutian schools from Kodiak westward in geographical order were: Afognak-ANS, Ouzinkie-ANS, Old Harbor-ANS, Alitak-ANS, Chignik-ANS, Perryville-ANS, Sandpoint-Territorial, Unga-Territorial, Belkofski-ANS, King Cove-ANS, and Sanak-Territorial. Further west from us came Ikatan-Territorial-(It only had 5 students and the teacher quit so that school dissolved), Nikolski-ANS, Unalaska at Dutch Harbor (an incorporated town with a regular school district, served regularly by the Reeves Airline) and finally Adak, way out on end of the chain, a modern well equipped U.S. Air Force On-base School.
The unloading at Perryville was especially memorable. Marie and I had been having long conversations with the Ragans, learning about their teaching life in various isolated villages. Marie really liked Mrs. Ragan who had brilliant red hair. She was caring for her two-year-old child and had recently given birth to an infant. It was especially rough water that day as we dropped anchor. We could barely see the ANS schoolhouse, near the shoreline through the wind-blown spray. Safety and security were within sight on that shore, but would they be able to reach it? Mr. Ragan slipped from his perch as he jumped off the GARLAND into a waiting skiff. But after recovering, the two-year-old was handed down to him. We held our breath as Mrs. Ragan with baby in her arms stepped out into mid air like Mary Poppins, just as the dory came up to her outstretched foot on the next wave. She bravely let go of the GARLAND's lifeline and crumpled into the arms of the rough looking bearded Aleut, in the bow of that bouncing dory. At that split-second another Aleut in the stern gave the 9 horsepower Johnson outboard full throttle and they sped away out of sight into the fog toward what we assumed would be a very wet surf landing along the shoreline just in front of the Perryville school. We never saw them again.
The many days of stormy seas, the inconvenience of eating and sleeping amid cargo, plus the never ending stories of teaching in the North molded special memories of The Schoolmarm Special forever in our minds. We all seemed to have so much enthusiasm for life and our career in those days, like highly trained recruits before their first battle. It was with real emotion that we said goodbye to each as they stepped over the side into a waiting dory which took them ashore to their positions in a native village.
Nothing can match this treasure of common trials endured together and thus the wilderness teaching fraternity was created. Fraternity through northern hardship may also be depicted by this example, the recent Diamond Jubilee of the Klondike Gold Pioneers, celebrated in Seattle. There were people who made millions, along-side former dance hall girls, mule train packers as well as the unsuccessful prospectors who had to borrow money to get home. From far and wide came the good guys and the bad guys, the lucky ones and the unlucky ones, but at that jubilee, social status was forgotten. They became brothers and sisters of the same fraternity. All had suffered through the same experience. It's true, each did it in his or her own fashion, but at this celebration, sharing the North had molded them equal. They’d all had endured!
We stopped at Unga and Sandpoint, our closest Territorial school neighbors, but we didn't meet the teachers. They had previously arrived on the August boat and were busy in their schools. At Sandpoint there was a cannery, so we tied up to a nice secure dock and were met by the self-appointed official boat-greeter of the village. This native matriarch had been looking forward all summer to meeting the new
