On May 13, Silver Moon called at Valdez. It was the second-to-last Alaska port before Whittier the next day. The sky was overcast, the ground still wet, and snow still sat on the mountain tops; the whole town looked quiet and clean, as if it had just been washed by rain.

First off the ship: a little trolley

Beside the pier stood a red-and-green trolley marked VALDEZ TROLLEY AND BUS TOURS, its door open, a signboard next to it. We did not ride it; the trolley itself felt like Valdez's way of saying hello. The town is small, and it does not need a grand way of being explored.

The red-and-green Valdez sightseeing trolley, marked VALDEZ TROLLEY AND BUS TOURS, its door open

Walking along the shore, a wooden pier reached into the water, Silver Moon's bow on the right, snow mountains lined up across the bay. A small patch of unmelted snow was still left at the end of the pier, and the wet asphalt shone.

The shore pier and Silver Moon's bow at anchor, snow mountains across the bay, a patch of snow left at the pier

Further along, a grassy slope dropped to rocks and water, and a long wooden pier ran straight into the bay, a small hut at its head, snow mountains emerging from under the clouds. There was hardly anyone on this stretch — only ripples and distant mountains, best walked slowly.

A wooden pier running from a grassy shore into the water, a small hut at its head, snow mountains under the clouds

Bears everywhere in Valdez

Valdez's bears do not come one at a time; they come one after another. First, a dark carved wooden bear by the roadside, standing, every chisel mark still visible in its fur, a pale building and patches of snow behind it. It is not finely carved, and that is exactly why it looks like something the people here made themselves.

A dark standing carved wooden bear by the roadside, a pale building and patches of snow behind it

On the harbour walk stood a shark sculpture on a stone base, with a whale's tail poking out behind it. A fishing port's sculptures do not aim for elegance; they say what this place lives on: fish, whales, the sea.

A shark sculpture on the harbour walk, with a whale's tail behind it

The fishing harbour itself was better than the sculptures. Fishing boats lined the water, masts and hulls reflected in the calm surface, snow mountains pressed under the clouds, and a black-and-white yacht moored on the right. Valdez's harbour has no tourist gloss: a boat is a boat, water is water.

The Valdez fishing harbour: boats lined on the water, snow mountains reflected, a yacht moored on the right

At the other end of the docks were empty berths: pontoons in neat rows, water as flat as a mirror, distant snow mountains reflected in it. With the boats away, the marina was easier to see for what it is.

Empty marina berths: pontoons in rows, calm water, snow mountains reflected

On a wooden boardwalk, a large sign read THE FISHING IS GREAT IN VALDEZ ALASKA, with HOME OF THE Valdez FISH DERBIES below, and a small carved wooden bear at each of the four corners of its frame — some standing, one lying down. Valdez makes its calling card like this, without any shyness.

A wooden sign reading THE FISHING IS GREAT IN VALDEZ ALASKA, with a small carved wooden bear at each corner of its frame

Outside a shop stood another carved bear, lighter in colour, yellowish, on a wooden base, a blue table beside it. Bears like this work as signposts in Valdez: see a bear, and you know you are on the right track.

A light-coloured standing carved wooden bear outside a shop, on a wooden base

Indoors, the bears continue

The indoor bears are different. The first was pale, its front paw resting on a wooden carving, the street and snow mountains visible through the window, dark tiles underfoot, an office chair beside it. Its pose was so lifelike that we found ourselves stepping softly.

An indoor pale bear specimen, its front paw on a wooden carving, street and snow mountains outside the window

The second was a seated black bear, its plaque reading ALASKAN BLACK BEAR, with a sign beside it: PLEASE DO NOT TOUCH THE BEARS. It sat low, dark-furred, the rain-wet street reflected in the glass. In Valdez, even indoors, the message is the same: bears can be looked at, not touched.

An indoor seated black bear specimen, its plaque reading ALASKAN BLACK BEAR and PLEASE DO NOT TOUCH THE BEARS

Looking back from above

Back on the street, two tall flagpoles stood by the road, the US flag and the Alaska state flag hanging in the overcast light, a peace pole between them reading May Peace Prevail On Earth, a length of pipe lying beside it. Valdez's street scenes are like that: practical, direct, with no extra decoration.

Tall flagpoles with the US flag and the Alaska state flag, and a peace pole reading May Peace Prevail On Earth

From higher up, Silver Moon lay whole along the pier, the Valdez Convention & Civic Center on the left, snow mountains and the bay spread out behind, cars in a small row in the parking lot. This is Valdez's most complete panorama: ship, town, and snow mountains in a single frame.

From above: Silver Moon at the pier, the Valdez Convention & Civic Center, snow mountains and the bay

From another high spot, under a roof edge, the same view rearranged itself: the parking lot and the civic building in front, Silver Moon on the right, snow mountains across the bay. The same port, seen from a little higher, falls into a different order.

From a roofed high viewpoint: the civic building, parking lot, Silver Moon at the pier, and snow mountains across the bay

Finally, back at the harbour square, two wooden sculptures stood on dry grass: a hatted figure pointing into the distance, and a mermaid-shaped figure, snow mountains behind, a few walkers in the distance. That is where the Valdez day stops: the ship in port, bears by the road, snow mountains under the clouds, nothing more needing to be said.