Photo Essay: Wrangell, Alaska on 35mm

Wrangell is a place that feels like a story half-remembered—an island where mist clings to the trees and the past lingers in the salt air. I traveled there with my old film camera, hoping to capture more than just images.


~The Alaska Airlines jet lands on a small runway that most airliner pilots are not certified for. I exit onto the tarmac, camera bag in hand. I begin walking down the sleepy roads from the airport to my bed and breakfast. They are wet from a mid-summer’s morning rain. I am in Wrangell, a small island town in central southeast Alaska. The population is just over 2,000 people. The island can only be accessed by plane and boat. It is the perfect setting to capture on 35mm film.~ (Oh, and a tip: you can click each image below to make it bigger.)

Taking an Alaska Airlines jet to Wrangell.

I first came to Wrangell in 2021 on a photo expedition to see the bears inside the Tongass National Forest. It will be the first of two trips to Wrangell- the next and final trip in 2022. I owned a photography business out of Fairbanks, Alaska. When I wasn’t busy shooting weddings or school portraits, I would travel around the state seeking out Alaska’s unique wildlife. Although this was a business trip, I took time to capture photos for a future essay- and here we are four years later.

The view from my bed and breakfast.

If you’ve traveled to an Alaskan island town, you know the uniqueness of each. For instance, the weather is constantly changing. Moody fog rolls in as you observe its silence with a cup of coffee. I fell in love with these vibes during my stay on the island.

On my first full day in Wrangell, and after enjoying my morning coffee on the deck, I took a stroll into town. I purposely opted-out of taking a cab; I wanted to experience as much as possible and it was a not-so-bad misty morning. I was sure to bring my raincoat- a staple when traveling throughout southeast Alaska.

I had to limit myself to how many photos I took. Shooting on film is special because you have a limited number of negatives that can be taken (versus digital where you can snap away until you’re tired.) This is what made film photography so special to me. Each shot costs money, and is one less shot that will go to the lab for development. It taught me to slow down, set up the shot, and cherish each snap I took. With all of the uniqueness of Wrangell, it was challenging to limit myself. I should have brought more film, but that is not the point; I wanted to experience this island.

As I explored the worn-facades of century old buildings, it stuck out to me how close-knit this island community was. While walking along the road, residents were offering me rides, asking where I was from, and one person even offered me a place to stay. I opted-in to continue my travels by foot. I went to the docks to check out the boats- some in better shape than others. As an artist, I appreciated how only time and mother nature could create wear and tear on the equipment.

My private boat tour.

During my stay, I was lucky enough to have my own private tour guide. Exploring southeast Alaska by boat was magical. We even stopped at one of the many glaciers in the area. As the glacier shears off ice, it leaves these bluer than blue icebergs. When looking back at the photos, they almost look overly saturated but, I promise, they were actually this blue!

Icebergs from the glacier.

As the ice falls into the water, a living amphitheater comes to life- where every splash and echo amplifies the glacier’s presence. The shock of ice meeting water sends ripples outward, distorting reflections and creating swirling currents. If the ice chunk is large enough, it can send a surge of water rushing towards you, a reminder of the sheer force at play. Beneath the surface, bubbles of ancient air trapped in the ice for centuries escape with a hiss, adding another layer to the glacial symphony. It truly is something that has to be experienced firsthand- descriptions alone will not suffice.

I hope these images and words have captured even a fraction of Wrangell’s quiet magic—the mist drifting over the water, the history etched into weathered docks, and the feeling of standing at the edge of something vast and ancient. This island, with its echoes of myth and memory, lingers in the mind long after you leave.

I’ve included some more photos based on feedback from my first photo essay!

Thank you, dear Reader, for coming along on this journey. Until the next adventure.


One response to “Photo Essay: Wrangell, Alaska on 35mm”

  1. Mya DeLong Avatar
    Mya DeLong

    Great photos- Wrangell is great at face value – I would be interested in your politcal science degree to really expose the toxic underbelly of the community.
    It deserves a full spectrum.

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