When I was a child, one of my hyper-fixations was ‘doomsday prepping’. I would come home every day after school, throw my books down, and tune into an hour of planning for what was a predicted, life-threatening, catastrophic event.

Well, the world hasn’t gone to shit yet and I feel a little more hopeful about my odds of survival after living in remote South East Alaska.

Life at the hatchery is simple, but more importantly, it is sustainable.

The hatchery has a small, almost village like vibe, tucked along the shoreline of Port Armstrong between the bay and the steep cliff faces. The facilities have grown organically over the years as hatchery production has increased.

Three incubation buildings and ten outdoor rearing raceways contain the fish, along with over fifty saltwater net pens for short-term rearing prior to release. A shop building and two hydropower buildings support the operation.

A short but steep hike up into the muskeg, and you will be rewarded by two pristine natural lakes. Betty Lake, and the adjacent Jetty Lake, are the two sources of water for the hatchery.

Don’t get me started on the chickens. Our sassy poultry provide sustanance and entertainment. Nestled alongside our quiall coop, duck coop, guniea pig sanctuary, the north east side of the hatchery resembles a small farm or commune of sorts.

The wildlife took me by surprise. In the morning we would dodge grizzlies after our salmon, and in the afternoon watch whales pass through the channel. Eagles soar above us and the occasional seal pup comes to play (or steal from our shrimp pots).

And that really is what it’s like living here. A true commune where skills are your currency. Need some flour? Or how about some pot? Head on over to your neighbors and make an offer. “I can take your rounds for a j”. “I’ll cook up some venison if you bring the potatoes.” Money has no use here. The internet is our only connection to the outside world, our small corner of the earth is about 70 miles from civilization and the only way out is by boat or plane.

The tradeoff is being immersed in the most rugged natural landscapes out there, fresh air, caught same day salmon poke bowls, and a great sense of community. I feel healthier, stronger, and more at peace with myself having lived here now for about four months. It’s the slow life, easy living.