Valley of Ten Thousand Smokes

Link to more photos of Valley on my photography website.


A brown bear makes his way along the river bank, stopping to eat grasses and roots. He looks forward to the first salmon making their way upriver.

A giant moose is grazing on the green shoots sprouting up, where the winter snow has melted. A wolf, trots up the valley looking to catch a ground squirrel off guard, before he sends out a warning to others and they all run into their burrow. A beaver swims across one of the many kettle ponds, with a newly chewed stick to add to his grand lodge.

At the base of a valley, a village of Alaska Natives, prepare for the abundance of the upcoming sockeye salmon run. The June day is peaceful and quiet.

Deep below the ground, the magma begins to push upwards towards the surface. Pressure builds like a shaken carbonated soda, straining the already fractured earth's crust. The earth begins to shake as the magma rumbles inside the chamber.

When the shaking stops, the villagers at the base of the valley, go about their business as before. But a worried look grows on the elders. The spirits in the mountains have been very angry lately and the increase in the earth trembling, makes them sense there might be danger looming.

Growing up, their elders used to tell them about stories passed down through generations, about such events in the past, that brought pain and suffering to their people. Events that shook the earth, turned day into night, and rained hot earth from the sky. A leader of the village decides to hike up a nearby mountain, to see if he can spot any danger.

Hours later, as he makes his way up the steepest part of the mountain the shaking begins again. Looking up the valley, Mt. Katmai's snow capped peak is visible in the distance, much larger than the rest. Then there is an explosion so massive and loud, that it knocks him to the ground. The dazed man, gets to his feet with ringing in his ear drums, similar to having an artillery shell explode near him. His mind races as he is one of the only few witnesses to one of the largest eruption in recorded history.

He races down from his outlook and back to his village to warn the others. In the distance, the ash raises into the sky, another blast sends an avalanche of molten earth racing down the valley at hundreds of mile per hour.

The warned villagers runs, to the lakeside, jump into their man made boats and kayaks, and paddle as fast as they can, out into Lliuk Arm, towards the larger Naknek Lake. Just as their ancestors had done before, they abandon their village all together.

They don't have much time, because a pyroclastic flow, 30 times bigger than the eruption at Mt.Saint Helen's, is on it's way, flash boiling the kettle ponds, lakes, knocking down every tree in it's path like some nuclear blast, and even damaging surrounding mountains.

Jump four years to 1916, a group of explorers are walking their way up a valley that looks nothing like before. Steam is rising all around them, chunks of mountain crash down towards the valley floor, what was once a lush valley, is now blanketed with ash, 700 feet thick.

Sent by the National Geographic society, they are exploring and studying the aftermath of one of the biggest eruptions in history. They are late studying the eruption, since the world was distracted by the more popular event of the sinking of the Titanic in 1912. But, even four years later the place is still an inferno.

Robert Griggs, leader of the expedition into the valley, writes about his experience with a famous quote.

"The valley as far as the eye could reach, was full of hundreds, no thousands, literally ten thousands of smokes curling up from its fissured floor. It was as though all the steam engines of the world, assembled together, had popped their safety valves at once and were letting off steam in concert."

At first they think Mt. Katmai is the cause of the eruption, since only a crater is left where a mountain once stood. But they later discover a new crater, Novarupta, and it's lava dome, formed, where 3 cubic miles of mountain once stood. The surrounding mountains are baked and damaged, sections still crumble and fall, one being named falling mountain, the other broken mountain.

Jump a head almost a century, and I'm exploring the valley for the first time. Alone, I walk up the valley and am blown away by what I see. The isolation of the place means I don't come across another soul. The valley has cooled, Novarupta is sleeping, and only a few of the ten thousands of smokes remain at the head of the valley, but it still looks as if I am walking across a new eruption. Not much vegetation has grown, but the rivers have carved deep canyons in the deep ash, making it near impossible to cross the valley.



I feel like I'm walking across the surface of Mars. Polychrome ash, pumice, and dark volcanic rock is scattered across a flat landscape. You could describe it as hell's kingdom, a unforgiving place, with very little life. Strong winds can shred your tent, and blow ash into your eyes, rains and melting glaciers rise surrounding creeks quickly, and make them hard to cross. Isolation means you must be prepared to save yourself.



At the epicenter of the devastated landscape, lies Novarupta Dome. A beaver lodge looking, pile of fractured lava that had ouzed out of the crater and still steams, like smoke coming out of the chimney of the devil's castle.
Novarupta erupted in june of 1912, displacing 3 cublic miles of earth. Compare that with .1 cubic miles that happend with Mt. St.Helens. or 2 cublic Miles that Happened with Krakatoa and Vesuvius, and you can sense how big this eruption was. The importance of the eruption helped protect the surround land and create Katmai National Park.

The eruption was so loud that it was heard in Juneau, the equvilant distance between Chicago and New York City. The eruption sent so much ash into the atmosphere that it cooled the earths temperature by one degree, dusted Seattle, tarnished brass in california, and choked the air, on the Island of Kodiak, 90 miles away, that locals couldn't see lanterns, in their out reached hands.



Link to more photos of Valley on my photography website.

Today a tour bus takes visitors from Brooks Lodge, back to the base of the valley and stops at a visitor center that looks out over the Valley of Ten thousand Smokes. An optional guided hike by a park ranger, takes you on a three mile round trip, hike down into the valley and along side the ash flow. You can stand upclose and admire how much destruction the massive pyroclasic flow, created.

Those more adventurous can be dropped off and can hike back into the valley, allowing you to get an upclose sense of the size and magnitude of the eruption. Be prepared, because the Isolation means you better bring relable camping equipment.
The reward is experiencing a landscape that few have ever seen and is very photogenic in it's appearance. Active volcanos surround you as you traverse the head of the valley and gaze at the steaming mother of all volcano's. Hopefully you are nowhere close, when she desides to wake up.


Link to more photos of Valley on my photography website.

Take a Cement Tablet.. And Harden the Fuck Up

It's 10 P.M, the storm is feeding off the low pressure in the Bering Sea, like a starving beast. A big bad wolf is huffing and puffing, and preparing to blow your boat down.

Even in a protected bay, the waves try to get at us little piggies, in small but choppy, white caps, like tentacles, rocking your anchored boat, back and fourth like a cork in a bath tub.

The land and sky are alive, the clouds are elongated, like they have been stretched and pulled, by a giant. It's a classic Bering Sea night.

For now, I am inside our boat, warm,waiting for the fishing opener in a few hours, looking out the window at the scene upfolding. Everyone aboard, is paying attention to the recorded weather updating over the radio, telling you how bad it will be. A girls, recorded voice talks about the weather. "Today, gail force winds, blowing from the west, seas 10-14 feet, small craft warning till tomorrow night."

It's one hour till the opener, you pull up the anchor, and head out of the bay and into the mouth of the beast. Heading around the protective spit, the waves start to grow, and grow and grow, like monsters. Your boat begins climbing and and descending 10-14 foot swells, making your 32 foot boat seem small, and insignificant. Each weld in your aluminum boat, will be tested tonight.

As a deck hand your spot is at the stern of the boat. So you put on your armour,"rain gear, and head into battle. The wind is howling, stinging your cheeks, the rain prickling your eyes, like needles. You are forced to keep your head down, as spray from breaking waves, crashes against the bow and washes up and over the back, and down on you, like your in a car wash. Your sea legs keep you steady, as you ride the waves like a cowboy.

This year's storm would test us, since we had three 17 foot waves crash into our boat and threaten to swamp us. One completely blind sided me, like I was a quarterback being tackled by a defensive linemen.

Bristol Bay, is famous for it's narly waves, that create freaks that don't follow the laws of physics. Shallow waters, and sand bars break up the huge swells, causing them to divide like an advancing army, and head in all different directions,flanking and richicheting of eachother, then bouncing back like some tag team wrestling match where three come to clothes line you at one time. Others, seem more animal like, take you head on, like a bull, then rise up like a king cobra's hood, growing higher and higher, till they look into your eyes and stare down your soul. Most wouldn't dare to venture out in this storm, but for fisherman who have four weeks to make a living, you can't afford to take the opener off, not when the fish are running.

While friends and family are home in their warm beds, having a restful sleep, dreaming about wonderful thoughts, a Bering Sea fisherman is a warrior heading into hell. They accept the dangers, the risks, and paying the ultimate price. Those that didn't accept this, that are scared,and not sure if they can handle the Bering Sea, "need to take some cement tablets and harden the fuck up."

Ebb and Flood of Life

At the moment I'm anchored up in Egegik Bay, where freshwater from Bacherof Lake on the Alaska Penisula, travels down the Egegik River and meets the Bering Sea.

It's June 18th, and nearly midnight, yet there is still daylight. A gift being so far north, is the days seem to last forever. But when you are sitting on an anchored boat, with not much room and nothing to do, and all the time in the world to wait, the gift of endless dull days, is like opening the same present over and over and over and over. Even the clock seems to tick backwards.

It's crappy out, fog hangs low in the air, the sky and land is a dull colorless canvas. Nothing stimulating for the senses, other than watching the ocean drain from around you, in the out going ebb. Even the seals that are hauled out on the sand bar, seem bored.

To break up the boredom, you find yourself reading through books like your about to compete in a battle of the books competition. At the moment I'm reading a book called Discarded Science, "Ideas that seemed good at the time." It's full of wacky theories man once had that now looks pretty ignorant.

Take the idea that Jupiter was full of hemp. "Jupiter had four moons rather than one, this must mean there were a lot of seafarers there. Hence a lot of Boats. Hence a lot of sails- hence a lot of ropes with which to pull the sails up and down. And.... to make a lot of ropes, you need a lot of hemp."

I tell this to my other deck hand, who is scanning through a stack of playboy magazines, and "not" reading the articles. He responds, "good, then we aren't the only bored and sexually deprived fishermen in this galaxy."

It's not always dull out in the Bering Sea. Last night the sun set, over the crystal clear sky and dunked into the Bering Sea with a green splash. An atmospheric phenomenon, I had never seen before, and wish I had captured with my camera. Tonight, is the flip side, it's as if the world is hidden behind a filter, blocking out any color.

We aren't fishing yet, since it's still early in the season,the huge run of salmon is absent, still swimming their long journey home. So we have nothing to do but wait, and let our anticipation for the upcoming season eat on us, like 9 year olds the night before Christmas.

In the coming days or weeks, the salmon will hopefully arrive in the millions, in the incoming tide. All run on an inate biological clock, that reminds them that their life in the ocean is over and it's time to return to the fresh water.

When the salmon arrive you no longer have time to do anything but work. The sleep bandits, arrive and for the next five weeks they steal your life. "A rising tide not only lifts all boats," it fills fisherman's nets.

All the boats anchored and lifeless at the moment, like we are, will be fighting for room to set out their nets, running their gear, and workin the district lines as hard as they can, 24 hours a day 7 days a week. Through huge storms, and freezing cold weather. Around July 4th, we not only celebrate Independence Day, we are in the climax of the run which ususally lasts for the next 2 weeks.

Commercial fishinig in Bristol Bay is more like destruction derby for cars. You have to fight for everything you catch, it's actually really entertaining to watch and will probably have a reality show about it someday as well. Boats ram into eachother, set nets over eachothers nets, and get nets and line wrapped up in their propellers.

At the end of the season, life slows down again as fisherman head back to port and home to their normal lives. Some will have a great season and some will have a shitty season. But since we aren't fishing at the moment our lives slow, slow, slow, down to the natural rhythm of the ocean. That's the ebb and flood of life.

Miller Genuine Draft

There is one thing that reminds me, that I'm back in Bristol bay, above anything else. More than the smell of fish, the smell of the ocean, walking around the town of Naknek, and even more than the crazy bar fights and wild grizzly looking fisherman,in the smokey Red Dog Saloon.

It's a taste that goes along with every day I'm out here. Starts before the season, with long days working on the boat, working on the engine, changing the oil,checking the hydraulic fluid, loading the nets, painting the deck, the rusty metals, getting it ready for fishing. It's a taste that goes along with the long journey from the Naknek River, past all the canneries, then out to sea, past Johnson's Hill, down the Alaska Peninsula, to where we fish for salmon.

The taste that goes along with every completion to a day of fishing, my rain gear covered in fish scales and blood, my arms and shoulders sore. The way to delivering our catch, after we anchor up, wash down the boat, and finally after we get out of our rain gear and get to finally relax in a warm cabin.

The taste is great on stormy rough seas, rainy cold showers, but tastes the best on sunny warm days or Bright orange sunsets. There is nothing better than the taste of a Miller Genuine Draft,after a long grueling day, commercial fishing in the Bering Sea.

It's a taste I only enjoy for two months of the year, since our captains only drink "MGD". The crew on the world famous crab boat Time Bandit, made famous in the deadliest catch. Calls our captains the "MGD brothers". For the rest of my life, Miller Time, will forever make me think of "fishing time, out in Bristol Bay, in the Bering Sea of Alaska.

Summer Means It's Time To Head Out Commercial Fishing!

I hadn't yet unpacked my stuff from my Africa trip, before I started packing for commercial fishing season. Switching out warmer weather clothing like shorts, flip flops, t-shirts, and light safari pants, and replacing them with heavy duty rain gear, "xtra tuf" rain boots, thick warm socks, and sweat shirts.

I'll also lose my African tan, grow out a thick rugged beard, making me look more like my Scandinavian ancestors. My soft photographer hands will transform into strong, callused, salmon picking machines. My shoulders will strain from pulling in nets loaded with thousands of pounds of salmon, and my mind and body will toughen with every storm we crash through, and exhausting 24 hour work days.

Commercial fishing in Bristol Bay is only 6 weeks long, so when the fish are running you are always working. You just suck it up and work hard, hopefully being rewarded with a big pay day at the end of the season. For me a good pay day means I get to afford to travel again and photograph some new location in the world.

Commercial fishing is a way of life to a lot of Alaskans. Alaska is home to the largest salmon runs in the world. Each year millions of salmon return to spawn in Alaskan rivers. Bristol Bay is the biggest, with rivers like Egegik, Naknek, and Kvichak which each have had runs of 29 plus million fish returning.

Last year was an exciting year on the boat. It was rough and stormy all year, we had to work long grueling hours, and my deck hand, got his arm ripped open from a 6 foot salmon shark, that got stuck in our net. It didn't take long for rumors to pass through the fishing fleet, so within the day people were calling us on radio, asking "Hattrick Over" " This is Hattrick" "I heard one of your deck hands had his arm ripped off by a shark, I'm sorry."
After getting his arm ripped open and having to fly to get his arm stitched up, we had his rain jacket decorated for him with a drawing of a shark.


What's great about fishing in Alaska is, you will never know what to expect. Every year is different. After a wild and adventurous 7 months, traveling across the entire continent of Africa, I only hope fishing season is just as exciting. Though, out on the boat in Alaska, there are few less worries that I had to worry about in Africa, such as not getting Malaria, there are no snakes or scorpions on the boat, and no chance of coming across crazy Nigerians, illegally logging, then holding a machete up to my neck and demanding my camera.

After the season, I will be flown back into Katmai National Park, where I will go backpacking alone, for a week to document the amazing volcanic eruption that transformed the landscape.

Also home to one of the largest concentrations of brown bears in the world, I will hopefully get some up-close photos of these amazing animals, as they chow down on salmon, trying to fatten up before winter.

I was recently eating at a Chinese restaurant and I opened my fortune cookie and it read, " you will have a close encounter of a serious kind." We will just have to wait and see what kind of encounter I will have.

Posting photos!

For the past 10 days, I have been going through my photos from my trip. Memory card after memory card, up late then up early, filtering the good photos from the bad.

When I find a photo I like, I crop, saturate, and then upload on to my website. I try to keep my photos as authentic as the scene I captured. Anyone who is a photographer knows how time consuming it is editing thousands of photos.

But I'm nearly done and looking forward to having a life again. Please take a look at my website my clicking at my Brian Montalbo Photography banner above. Those who have been following my blog, can see photos that go along with the posts from my blog.

Eventually I'll add photos from my trip into the stories I posted on here. I would like to thank everyone who followed my adventures and gave me feed back and comments. It was an exhausting trip with many ups and downs, but knowing that people were reading my blog kept me motivated to document a place that is unique in the world.

The last seven months took me from the glaciers of Iceland through the jungles of western Africa, down to the southern most point in Africa. I got arrested in Mali, held up by machete gorilla trekking in Nigeria, managed to avoid getting malaria, I dodged the many poisonous snakes and spiders, and most of all, got my cameras and memory sticks back home, in one piece.

If I motivated you in anyway to go out and live life to the fullest, plan a vacation yourself, or realize that life is about the memories and experiences you make, and not the materialistic junk that we tend to accumulate, than I did my job. There is a huge world out there, changing faster than you can ever imagine. Go out there and soak it up before you find yourself regretting that you never followed your heart.

Netherlands

The country of Netherlands is worth visiting, and for far more reasons than just to party in the liberal city of Amsterdam, where most enjoy space cakes, the red light district, sex shows, Ann Frank Museum, Van Gogh Museum, and beautiful canals.

Try heading out into the country side and explore a small country who's locals enjoy a high quality of life, use an amazing network of windmills and dikes to hold back a rising sea, and allow them to maximize the little land that they have.

So go out and have a few nights of wild partying in the most famous side of the Netherlands, it's why you come to the Netherlands, but don't forget to head out into country side to experience a slower pace, and learn about the culture and lifestyle that has shaped the country's history.

Try on some wooden clogs, taste some great cheese, head to Keukenhof to see the tulips, if you are there in April and May, stand and stare at the photogenic windmills, and take a boat ride to the fishing village of Volendam, across the largest lake in western Europe.

It's easy to jump on trains and buses and travel within the country. Or just walk around in Amsterdam and buy a ticket from the tour operators that will take you to all of them in one day.

Visit Netherlands album on my website. http://bmontalbo.zenfolio.com/p29476172

Vaanse Schans Windmill village

Volendam Village







Keukenhof Tulips