July 20, 2025 – Sunday
Taku Harbor has long been more than a protected pocket in Stephens Passage—it’s been a home, a hub, and a harbor of human spirit. First settled by the Tlingit T’aaku Kwáan, whose seasonal camps and village sites shaped the shoreline, it later welcomed fur traders and salmon packers. The Hudson’s Bay Company briefly stamped its presence here with Fort Durham in 1840—a trading post fortified against time but abandoned just three years later. In the early 1900s, a bustling salmon cannery and cold-storage plant rose from its rocky edge, drawing hundreds to its docks until operations ceased in 1947. The bones of that industrious past still hold fast in decaying pilings, aging walls, and the quiet charisma of Tiger Olson’s solitary cabin.
Today, Taku Harbor hums again—this time with comradery. Fishing vessels raft up at the public dock, tied stern-to-stern, their crews exchanging intel on the chum run or swapping oil filters and smoked coho. Cruisers tuck into its calm belly at day’s end, conversations spark over tide charts and bear sightings, and stories ripple out from boat to boat like wake on the water.
Whether arriving for respite or rendezvous, mariners find Taku Harbor to be part sanctuary, part gathering place, a harbor that holds history in its shorelines and fresh tales in every anchoring.
Where the City Slips into Wilderness
