Featured Jim In Its Centerfold Series of Stories on Alaskans' Special Places
This is Jim and Ruth's former "Cliffhanger" cabin - sold in October 2002
In the photo on the left Jim climbs the "Stairway to Heaven", and in the large photo is the master of all he surveys.
HERE'S THE GERMAN TEXT TRANSLATION:
"AND THEN HERE IS THEIR INNER ISLAND"
His hand-built cabin nestles on the brink of a cliff, where the rain forest ends and the sea begins. Located on the southern shore of Kachemak Bay, an hour's boat ride from the town of Homer, the cabin was crafted by Anchorage photographer Jim Lavrakas over the past 18 years as the ultimate retreat.
For Lavrakas, now 43 the site captures the essence of Alaska -- the untouched climax forest of towering Sitka spruce out the back door, the pristine ocean teaming with marine life to the front.
"I just love being on the ocean, and I love the mountains," he says.
Reaching the cabin can be an adventure in itself. Lavrakas drives 400 kilometers to the Kenai Peninsula's Homer Spit, the "end of the road" for the American highway system. Then he travels by skiff 16 kilometers across Kachemak Bay, navigating treacherous tidal currents amid a stunning backdrop of glaciers and mountains and forested islands. Once he arrives at his private beach, he climbs 75 wooden steps he attached to the cliff and enters a domain that balances human ingenuity with wild solitude.
The view through his bay windows might include humpback whales, bald eagles, sea otters and black bears. "It's spectacular beyond anything else," he says. "You're looking down on the eagles perched in the trees on the cliff."
Pink salmon swirl in the intertidal water off his beach, and offshore swim schools of other salmon and halibut. Blueberries as big as marbles thrive in the lush undergrowth of fern and prickly Devil's club.
But in true Alaska fashion, Lavrakas has introduced rustic amenities into this wild setting: a wood-heated bath house, an intricate pulley system for hauling supplies up from the beach. The cabin and stairway both came from logs Lavrakas found on beaches or cut from his land, then towed about 12 kilometers to a remote sawmill on a cove, where they were cut into rough planks.
Lavrakas lives in the state's biggest city, where he works in a high-pressure job as a photographer for the Anchorage Daily News. But his heart resides at his rain forest cabin on the sea.
"I work hard there -- I replace pilings and do construction and all sorts of little projects. But it's a whole different sort of thought process, and it's very relaxing for me. It's just a total release."
