Eat. Drink. Adventure.

The Hooligan Run in Haines, Alaska

I am back in Haines, Alaska.  This time I am here for a personal ceremony – I am being adopted into the Tlingit tribe of the village of Klukwan.  It’s a wild story for another post. 

By the afternoon, I am at a potlatch in the village longhouse and where I am given the Tlingit name Góoch éesh (“wolf father”) and a beautiful vest with wolf image beadwork It’s a proud day.

With the rest of the week I decide to get to know nearby Haines better. 

Haines is a hard little harbor town at the end of the American dream, wedged between ice-bitten mountains and a deep black fjord, where bald eagles crowd the gray sky like slow, circling sentries.

The hamlet sits on the shores of the Lynn Canal, a long, glacial fjord where mountains rise straight out of the water and the weather comes on like a mood swing.

The town is small—only a few streets, no stoplights, 2,500 souls give or take—but it feels bigger than itself, inflated by the surround of peaks, forest, and cold sea.

I am in town for a personal ceremony: I am being adopted by the Tlingit tribe of Klukwan. At a potlatch I am given the Tlingit name Góoch éesh (“wolf father”) and a beautiful vest with wolf image beadwork. 

Long before anyone called it Haines, the Tlingit knew this place as Deishú, the end of the trail, a last stop between the hinterlands and salt water.

Missionaries, gold fever, salmon canneries, and an old Army outpost called Fort Seward layered on afterwards, leaving weathered wood, rust, and stories that never quite made it into the brochures.. 

Klukwan is organized around the classic Tlingit two‑moiety system: Raven and Eagle/Wolf, with specific local clans that anchor the village’s identity and history. 

Haines is essentially the front porch to Klukwan, the “eternal village,” where Chilkat Tlingit clans still live their language, clan system, and ceremonial life as they have since time immemorial.  The Tlingit’s have been in this very spot for somewhere between 4,500 and 10,000 years.

If they had one, the Haines chamber of commerce would sell the town as scenic—bears on the river, eagles by the hundred over the Chilkat, hikers and cruisers chasing some manageable bite of wild.

But walk it slow and you feel something else: the semi-isolated hush of a town at the edge of the map, given as much to the gutter as to the gods, surviving on tourism, stubbornness, and the strange metaphysical charge of simply hanging on here.

Haines is an oddball, human-scale town.

“Downtown” is a few streets of galleries, cafés, harbor, local breweries, and the unapologetically weird Hammer Museum—the world’s only museum dedicated purely to hammers.

Fort Seward’s old Army buildings now hold art studios, inns, and bars, so you drink and wander through a half-ruined parade ground with the mountains leaning over your shoulder.

I am here this time in spring which means only one thing hereabouts: the Hooligan Run.

The hooligan run is the huge spring migration of eulachon—small, oily smelt also called hooligan or candlefish—from the open ocean into coastal rivers like the Chilkat and Chilkoot around Haines, Alaska, to spawn. Hooligan are anadromous fish, meaning they live in the ocean but swim upriver in massive schools each spring to reproduce, turning stretches of water into a dense, moving ribbon of silver.

For Indigenous peoples such as the Tlingit in the Haines–Klukwan area, hooligan have long been a vital subsistence resource, harvested with dip nets, rakes, and traps as one of the first major food sources of spring. The run is also a critical early-season food pulse for predators: gulls, sea lions, eagles, seals, and occasionally whales gather in striking numbers to feed on the fish. 

Hooligan are eaten fresh, often fried whole, baked, smoked, or dried, taking advantage of their very high oil content.​  Families freeze, smoke, and dry them for year‑round use, serving them as everyday meals and at gatherings

First daylight during the frenzy brings out Chilkoot dip-netters, a loose order of true believers and warriors, standing ankle-deep in glacial runoff, swearing, smoking, cracking jokes as they drag forever out of the river and into beat-up plastic totes.

Soon it will be summer and salmon, and tourists looking for kayaking, hiking, and long blue evenings.

Winter flips to Stockholm-like darkness, steep backcountry skiing, the Bald Eagle Festival, and a small-town scene that doesn’t disappear when the ships do.

Where is it?

  • Haines/Klukwan sits in the Chilkat Valley on the banks of the Chilkat River, roughly 21–22 miles northwest of Haines along the Haines Highway and about 18 miles south of the Canadian border. 
  • Klukwan village is within the upper Inside Passage region, adjacent to the Chilkat Bald Eagle Preserve, with mountains and river flats crowding close.


How far is it?

  • Juneau to Haines is roughly 75–95 miles, and you hop between them by bush or seaplane or by boat, not by road.
  • By air: About 70 miles between Juneau International (JNU) and Haines Airport (HNS), with a flight time of roughly 35–40 minutes. 
  • By water: Haines sits about 75–94 miles north of Juneau along Lynn Canal, depending on route.


How to get there

  • Small commuter flight: Alaska Seaplanes and similar outfits run multiple daily hops Juneau–Haines; it is the fastest and most weather-sensitive way in and out. 
  • State ferry: The Alaska Marine Highway System runs car ferries between Juneau and Haines several times a week; crossings run on the order of 5–7 hours and you can bring a vehicle. 
  • High-speed day boat: In summer, operators like Alaska Fjordlines run a faster, scenic passenger-only run between Juneau, Haines, and Skagway, often doubled as a wildlife/whale-watching trip. 


Things to know

  • No road: Juneau is roadless; any “driving distance” assumes a long detour via Canada and is not a simple point-to-point drive. 
  • Booking: For shoulder-season or winter, check ferry and flight schedules closely; summer adds more frequency and the tour boats, but seats and deck space go fast
  • The name “Klukwan” comes from the Tlingit “Tlakw Aan,” often translated as “Eternal Village” or “The Village That Has Always Been,” reflecting a history that predates the non-Native towns on Lynn Canal. 
  • Klukwan is renowned for Chilkat weaving, clan treasures, and the Jilkaat Kwaan Heritage Center, which houses at.oow (sacred clan property) and hosts cultural tours that open a tightly guarded world just a crack to visitors.


Big nature without big crowds

  • Haines is where serious wild, deep culture, and an almost old-town quiet all stack up in one small, reachable place. 
  • You get bald eagles by the hundreds on the Chilkat, brown and black bears working salmon on the Chilkoot, and a fjord coastline without the cruise-ship crush of Juneau or Skagway. 
  • The landscape is tight and cinematic—Lynn Canal, glacier-cut valleys, mountain goats on the ridges—and you can reach most of it on day trips instead of epic expeditions.


Chilkat Tlingit culture next door

  • Haines is essentially the front porch to Klukwan, the “eternal village,” where Chilkat Tlingit clans still live their language, clan system, and ceremonial life. 
  • The Jilkaat Kwaan Heritage Center and village tours crack open Chilkat weaving, clan treasures, and river life in a way you almost never get in cruise-port Alaska. 


If you’re dreaming about edge-of-the-map communities, Haines and Klukwan is a stunningly beautiful case study on how a place rides tourism, subsistence, and old stories all at once.

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