Halibut Cove: An Alaskan Oasis

My son visited me in Homer last week for the first time since I started my internship this spring.  It had been six weeks since I last saw him, which was way too long.  But it's amazing how that time apart melted away almost instantly when I saw him.  We wrapped our arms around each other and shared a terrifically long hug.  All seemed right with the world again.

His visit was thanks to my mom, who drove the nearly 300 miles to bring him to me and pay me another visit.  Thanks, mom!  They arrived in Homer hungry and road-weary from the infamous Sterling Hwy. traffic jams.  I decided that they needed a pleasant adventure to make the most of their short few days in Homer, so I booked reservations to the idyllic village of Halibut Cove located across Kachemak Bay.  My mom had never taken the 45 minute journey by boat to this little corner of Alaska and I thought it would be a good reward for her efforts to bring my boy to me.  Normally she is afraid of being surrounded by water, but the weather cooperated beautifully and our ride on the Danny J boat went smoothly.  The historic boat that carried us across the water was just the first indication of what we were to experience on our pleasure outing.  It was an immaculately maintained ship with wood decking and trim that carried its maximum of 29 passengers in classic style.  The seating was mostly outdoors, with a few seats inside a miniature cabin below deck.  Although the old converted military transport vessel chugged along quite slowly toward our destination, it did so with such charm that we thoroughly enjoyed the voyage.  My son was so enamored with the whole mariner adventure that he made his way to the wheel house where he struck up a conversation with Captain Sydney, after which she let him drive the boat for a few minutes.  He grinned from ear to ear as he sat behind that Captain's wheel.

The official boat to Halibut Cove.

As the Danny J entered Halibut Cove, we passed by a gorgeous lighthouse perched on a hillside near a natural sea arch.  It marked our entrance into another, more picturesque, world within Alaska.  Our Alaskan oasis.  Homes both quaint and magnificent lined the rocky cliffs surrounding the cove, with narrow wooden boardwalks balanced on tall barnacle-covered piers zig-zagging down to the water.  Homes varied between tiny sea-shanties and cape cod style mini-mansions.  Everything looked straight out of a Coastal Living magazine or a classic seaside movie.  With the sunshine bathing it all in a golden afternoon light, it really seemed like we'd left Alaska and arrived in an east coast fishing village.

The Halibut Cove lighthouse.

Our destination in Halibut Cove was a secluded restaurant, The Saltry.  Eating at this fine establishment went part and parcel with taking the Danny J to the cove.  The island on which the restaurant and most of the Halibut Cove homes were located, was comprised of two hills connected by a narrow isthmus of land and beach.  The side with the restaurant has boardwalks and art galleries that are open to the public.  The other side of the island is dotted with private homes and frowns upon tourists wandering their dirt paths.  There are no vehicles on the island, thus no roads to speak of.  A large dock in the middle of the cove provides parking for the preferred mode of transportation...boats.  On the side of the island open to wandering tourists, we discovered several horses, galleries filled with work by Halibut Cove artists, and a sprawling hillside estate boasting a long greenhouse containing an apple orchard.  One of the more famous artists, who recently passed away, was Diana Tillion.  Her paintings were done using octopus ink she extracted herself from the local cephalopod residents.  I had the pleasure of meeting her personally a few years ago when I was visiting friends in the cove.  I remember being fascinated by her description of how she lured the octopuses out of their hiding places at low tide to gently collect her painting medium.  Halibut Cove was not only an oasis of beauty, but a mecca for people with interesting lifestyles.

The Saltry restaurant in Halibut Cove.

My mom and son and I enjoyed a delicious meal of local seafood cooked exquisitely by The Saltry chef.  I had crispy cod and side-stripe shrimp in a sweet chili lime sauce over coconut jasmine rice.  Tantalizing, right?  Outside, blue-green swallows circled and chirped through the air in pursuit of insects for their chicks, while gulls and bald eagles competed for small fish near the surface of the water.  In one instance, as my son stood outside on the deck, a huge eagle dove from atop the restaurant over my son's head, missing his noggin by just a couple feet, as it plunged after a fish dinner.  He said he could hear the whistle of its wings as it passed.  After dinner we opted to walk the boardwalk to the isthmus to explore the beach at low tide.

My son exploring the isthmus beach.

The beaches on this side of the bay are drastically different from those on the Homer side.  The south side is rocky with very clear water, making for great tide pooling.  We discovered millions of mussels and tiny snails adhered to the rocks.  It was impossible to step almost anywhere without accidentally crushing some tiny creature.  But slowly, we made it to the water's edge and explored the shoreline.  A curious seal periodically periscoped out of the water in the cove to take a look at us.  And a noisy Belted Kingfisher made its machine gun chatter call as it wheeled out of the trees and down toward the water in search of a fish meal.  My son discovered a multitude of different shells on the beach: limpets, snail shells, mussels, clams, and even a couple small tritons.

Tiny snails clung to nearly every surface on the beach.

After our exploration, we meandered back to the restaurant and down to the dock to await our boarding back onto the Danny J.  The evening was spectacular with full sunshine and no mosquitoes to speak of.  Every part of Halibut Cove seemed like a painting, too picturesque to be real.  It was like a magical place where people actually lived, though to be there in winter would present a very different picture.  But our time there together was a balm to the stress of being apart for so long, and to a very busy summer of work.  On the voyage back to Homer, we all basked in the warmth of the low sun and soaked up the last bits of wondrous beauty offered up by the ocean.  I won't ever forget the look of peace and joy on my son's face as he turned his head into the wind, eyes closed, and smiled ever so slightly.  It was exactly how we all felt as we tried to absorb the last bits of our amazing evening, to memorize the exact color of the water and the motion of the waves off the bow.  I felt satisfied to have shared that place with my son again, and with my mom for the first time.  Like an oasis in a desert, Halibut Cove provided a much needed dose of visual refreshment to our everyday lives.  The enchantment of the location will make our memories of that shared experience even more special.  Thank you Halibut Cove!