By Ian Dempster, Owner of Sitka Nuts and Active-Duty U.S. Coast Guard
I didn’t grow up in Sitka, but I got here as quickly as I could.
After serving overseas in the U.S. Coast Guard, I was asked to rank my next assignment. Sitka landed near the top of my list. When the orders came through, my wife and I didn’t hesitate.
Like most people who end up here, I didn’t arrive with a grand plan. Sitka has a way of revealing itself slowly.
A few years ago, during cruise season, I noticed something simple but important: foot traffic, energy, opportunity. I knew a guy who roasted nuts and made a good living doing it. My wife and I used to travel just to buy his product, so it didn’t seem like a stretch to try it here, especially in a town that didn’t have many grab-and-go options at the time.
We started small, with one roaster on Lincoln Street.
By the end of that first cruise season, we were at the terminal. By the next year, we had a permanent spot. That was 2023. It happened fast, not because we were special, but because the conditions were right.
And those conditions exist because cruise tourism exists.
What Sitka Feels Like When the Ships Are In
Sitka in winter is quiet. Peaceful. Dark.
When cruise season starts, the town wakes up.
Restaurants reopen. Food trucks appear. Someone starts selling gelato. Someone else opens a taco stand. Artists bring out handmade jewelry. Families work side by side. You see innovation that simply doesn’t pencil out without volume.
Most of these businesses don’t survive on summer alone. Summer carries them through winter. Coffee shops, restaurants, retail stores, even some city jobs depend on the revenue generated during cruise season.
The Magic Hour
Before the tourists even get into town, there’s a one-hour window. They’re still on the buses, coming in from the cruise terminal, and Lincoln Street belongs to the locals.
Vendors hustle to unload trucks, set up tables, and get ready for the day. Many are families. Parents and kids working together. There’s anticipation in the air. Energy.
People are smiling. They’re high-fiving. Someone yells hello across the street. If you’ve been working too hard to stop for food, someone hands you a cheeseburger or a donut. There’s a lot of sharing. A lot of looking out for each other.
It feels good. It feels right.
Shops open their doors. Windows get adjusted. Artwork is hung just right. Sandwich boards are straightened and repositioned. Everyone wants their place to look good, but it’s not cutthroat. Nobody’s trying to knock over someone else’s sign to stand out.
It’s more like, “Hey, that board looks rough. Let me help you fix it.”
If someone runs out of change, they borrow from the next vendor. If someone’s short on supplies, someone else steps in. This isn’t a handful of people. It’s the whole street. Dozens of vendors. Hundreds of people when you count families and workers.
You’ll see local fish shops, food stands, crab legs, gelato carts, sandwiches, handmade jackets, sweatshirts, hats, and T-shirts. There’s even a pharmacy that serves ice cream, which still makes me laugh—and it’s good ice cream.
All of it, every bit of it, is local.
That’s what Lincoln Street looks like before the buses arrive. That’s what cruise tourism looks like on the ground. Not corporate. Not cold. Just neighbors working hard together.
Why Some Neighbors Have Concerns
Sitka is a fishing town built on self-reliance. Independence runs deep here. When people see outside companies, large ships, and unfamiliar systems, they fear they’re losing something.
It’s natural to worry about what might change. People care deeply about the character of the community and the pace of life here.
Cruise tourism, when it works well, depends on order, predictability, and cooperation with the community. Some of the unease comes from uncertainty, especially in the years following COVID. That’s not a reason to shut the door. It’s a reason to communicate better, to make sure growth remains thoughtful and manageable.
Why This Matters to Me
I started a business in Sitka because I saw an opportunity to contribute and a way to make life here work for my family.
My wife runs most of the day-to-day operation. Other Coast Guard families help keep things moving. The income supports our household, helps send our son to culinary school, and allows us to stay rooted in Southeast while another son continues his own Coast Guard service in Ketchikan.
We’re trying to build something that helps families see a future here and gives people a reason to stay. When that happens, individual success reinforces the whole community. A rising tide lifts all ships.
Where I Hope We Go From Here
I don’t want Sitka to lose what makes it Sitka. I don’t want chaos. I don’t want unchecked growth. I want understanding.
I want people who benefit from cruise tourism to tell their stories. I want people with concerns to see how the revenue supports the broader community. And I want solutions that respect Sitka’s independence while recognizing reality.
Because when I stand on Lincoln Street and watch families set up, sharing food and helping each other, I see a community doing its best to survive.
And it’s worth protecting.
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If you have a cruise tourism story — a memory, a job that changed your life, a business that grew because of visitors — I want to hear it. Join us at Welcome Ashore Alaska, a growing community of Alaskans sharing real stories about how tourism shapes our lives, our towns, and our future. Help shape the conversation. Together, we can build a more balanced, more honest, and more local-driven future for Alaska tourism.
