Where Our Morning Began
The morning air in Ketchikan felt crisp and fresh, with only a few light sprinkles drifting through partly cloudy skies. It was perfect weather for flying.
It was Mother’s Day.
The waterfront buzzed with excitement as passengers hurried toward whale watches, fishing charters, and the famous lumberjack show. Bright rain jackets, knit hats, cameras and coffee cups filled the docks.
I had something different in mind.
After reading countless reviews, I chose Island Wings because of its long-standing reputation and one special feature that separated it from many other flightseeing tours—we wouldn’t simply fly over Misty Fjords.
We would actually land there.
The bright red floatplanes waited quietly beside the dock, looking both rugged and inviting.
They weren’t luxurious. They looked like working aircraft built for Alaska, and somehow that made the adventure feel even more authentic.
Climbing Into Something New
I was excited. Mom was willing. Looking back now, I realize those aren’t always the same thing.
At the time I noticed only that she seemed a little apprehensive. I didn’t think much about it because she agreed to go, smiled, and climbed aboard with everyone else.
Only later did I realize how intimidating the experience may have felt.
The floatplane required climbing a narrow diagonal metal ladder several feet off the dock. It wasn’t difficult for younger travelers, but it required balance and confidence.
Mom needed a little help, and surrounded by couples decades younger than us, she may have felt more self-conscious than she ever admitted.
If everyone in our group had been closer to our age, sharing similar limitations, I think she might have felt more comfortable.
Instead…She climbed aboard anyway. For me.
Leaving Ketchikan Behind
Within minutes the harbor disappeared beneath us.
Neighborhoods became tiny clusters of homes tucked among endless evergreens. The shoreline twisted into narrow inlets while the floatplane climbed higher above southeast Alaska.
Inside the cabin the engine produced a steady, reassuring hum that never really stopped.The windows weren’t completely sealed, allowing a cool breeze to drift inside.
Even wearing two jackets and a scarf, I remember feeling chilled.
On the return flight Mom quietly switched into my seat because hers had become noticeably colder.
The farther we flew, the more civilization quietly disappeared. Forests stretched endlessly below us.
Waterfalls tumbled hundreds of feet down dark granite cliffs.
Flying Into Misty Fjords
Snow still clung to the mountain peaks despite the arrival of spring.
Clouds drifted between the summits, creating the soft mist that gives Misty Fjords its unforgettable name.
Every few moments another breathtaking view appeared outside the window, each one somehow more beautiful than the last.
No photograph quite captured the incredible scale.
The mountains simply kept getting larger.
A Quiet I Will Never Forget
When the floats gently touched the water, I barely felt the landing.
Our pilot made it seem effortless. Then the engine shut down.
Suddenly the constant vibration disappeared. The silence felt enormous.
Around us stood towering mountains wrapped in drifting clouds, their reflections mirrored perfectly across the still water.
There were no roads. No buildings. No crowds. Only wilderness.
It was one of those rare moments where everyone naturally became quieter—not because anyone asked us to, but because the landscape seemed to deserve it.
Looking Back Through Different Eyes
This photograph has become one of my favorites.
Not because it’s perfectly composed.
But because it reminds me how differently we sometimes understand our memories years later.
During the flight another passenger enthusiastically asked the pilot question after question.
At the time it simply felt like conversation.
Now I wonder if it also prevented Mom from having the quiet moment, she may have needed to tell me she couldn’t hear everything being said through the headset.
Her hearing loss has progressed significantly since that trip.
Knowing what I know today, I wonder how much of the pilot’s narration she actually heard.
I also wonder how much she kept to herself because she knew how excited I was.
After we returned home, she enthusiastically told friends how incredible the excursion had been.
I believe she truly enjoyed it.
But I also suspect she protected my happiness a little.
Mothers have a quiet way of protecting the people they love.
What This Journey Left Behind
I would ask fewer questions.
Sit a little closer.
Watch her face more often than the scenery.
But I would still choose this flight.
Because despite everything I understand differently now, we shared something extraordinary together.
Travel has a remarkable way of preserving moments we don’t fully appreciate until years later.
Misty Fjords gave me breathtaking scenery.
Looking back, it also gave me a deeper appreciation for traveling alongside my mom while we still could.
I realized Misty Fjords gave me far more than breathtaking scenery.
It gave me one more unforgettable memory with my mom—
and that has become the most beautiful part of the journey.