The water rushed through Ketchikan Creek with a force I could see and hear as I stood watching hundreds, then thousands, of pink salmon moving through the water. Some seemed to hover for a moment, gathering strength, while others propelled themselves forward with everything they had. Again and again, I watched them attempt to move upstream, only to have the current push them backward.

And then they would try again.

For the first twenty minutes, we saw nothing.

My friend Trina and I were on a whale watching excursion during the cruise portion of our recent Alaska trip, scanning the water and hoping for some sign that the whales were nearby. Our tour actually came with a money back guarantee that we would see whales, but as our boat continued across the water without a single sighting, I started wondering if we might be collecting on that promise.

Then our captain spotted something in the distance. A spout.

The boat skimmed across the water as music played and the crowd watched from shore. One moment the skiers were gliding across the lake in a long line, and the next they were climbing onto one another's shoulders, building something that seemed almost impossible while moving across the water. Higher and higher they went until a human pyramid had formed, with one skier standing at the very top.