Building a Home on Kachemak Bay

Michael McBride's The Last Wilderness: Alaska’s Rugged Coast

With a poet’s intuitive veneration of the unknown lands and waters, Michael McBride tucks us into his pocket as he and his wife, Diane board the vessel that takes them from Homer to their new home in China Poot Bay at the mouth of Kachemak Bay. They are pioneers launching themselves on the adventure of a lifetime. They’ve poured their life savings into purchasing a homestead, a ramshackle cabin and all of the tools and supplies their dwindling bank account can afford. McBride warns us at the outset that once they’ve left Homer behind them, there’s no looking back, if for no other reason than they’ve got no funds to get them back. It’s do or die (quite literally) and they could not be more excited.

Over the next 40 years, McBride and Diane construct “the world renowned Kachemak Bay Wilderness Lodge, a model for eco-tourism everywhere.” His love affair with China Poot Bay does not follow the chronological scheme one might envision of a man who possesses such a plethora of technical skills: “master wilderness guide, bush pilot, a licensed Coast Guard captain, a marine biologist…,” carpenter, electrician––the list continues. In many of the books I’ve read about men and women who tread where others have not dared, they often relate their progress in a very rudimentary way. Typically, we follow these intrepid souls as they hack their way into the untamed woods. Next, we may be treated to detailed explanations of how they constructed their log home. But, this was not the tact McBride chose to pursue. He floats. His prose keeps us aloft. There’s a dreamy, other-worldly quality that characterizes the way we learn about his lodge on the bay.

He fills in the empty spaces with a variety of diversions. For instance, after telling a hilarious and self-deprecating story about the birth of his son, he shifts gears, letting us know who has graced his lodge “and what a dazzling array of clients they were. The baron and baroness of Franconia, the duke of Alba and rightful king of Spain, an ambassador, heads of major European banks, and members of the British Parliament.” Three paragraphs later he’s sauntered into the fields of study he pursued when not working on the construction or extension of his ever-expanding lodge. “There was even an opportunity to study lepidoptery, as there were several conspicuous species of butterflies and moths in our area. Cartography and myrmecology [study of ants] both seemed relevant to a person wanting to know a great deal about the natural world.”

All of this––the pathos and joys of living away from our paved roads––transpires in what McBride describes as a “hidden Shangri-La … an idealized sort of Alaska that hides wild places no living person has ever seen. There are uncounted numbers of black and grizzly bears and moose, wolves, and wolverines, river otters, and mink.”

McBride spends page after page ruminating about the sounds of water––from waterfalls, to the gurgling, spasmodic belches of water bursting forth from hidden glens, surmounting boulders that have kept them hidden for years, maybe eons. If you enjoy rambling, beautiful language that waxes eloquently about the aural splendors awaiting one while falling asleep in a hearth-heated cabin, then you’ll definitely love The Last Wilderness. Conversely, if you crave a plot line to keep you entertained and motivated to turn the page, then you might find his book a wee trying.

McBride’s fascination with China Poot Bay does not end with his heartfelt appreciation for all of its natural beauty. He also recognizes and appreciates that while he may be one of only a handful of white men to try and settle in that cove, that long before he or any white folks traversed the land where he built his lodge it had been inhabited by the First People, who lived and prospered for thousands of years. He understood the responsibility he and Diane had toward his new home. “Each of us has the opportunity and the responsibility to tread lightly, to cherish and honor the land, to maintain clean, unpolluted, and beautiful water and air for all children who will inherit what we leave behind.”

McBride and his wife lived their dream. Thanks to their willingness to do whatever was required to survive and with the help of many good people from Homer, they held on and succeeded beyond their wildest expectations. Lucky for us they did, for today, their lodge, resplendent in its glory, awaits us all.