Alaska Beer: Liquid Gold in the Land of the Midnight Sun
By Bill Howell; American Palate/The History Press; 2015; 160 pages; $21.99.
Even Alaskans who know their state history might be surprised to learn that for a brief time during the territorial era, there was a blossoming of industries producing products designed for "medicinal, mechanical and scientific purposes."
While this sounds like a long since squandered opportunity for economic diversification in a region that's been resource dependent from the start, the truth is less lofty. Under the Alaska Bone Dry Law, which went into effect in 1918, these were the only exceptions to an otherwise draconian alcohol prohibition statute that made the subsequent federal one look like last year's marijuana legalization initiative.
We learn about this and much more in "Alaska Beer," an engagingly written account of the history and today's boom of brewing in Alaska by Sterling resident and beer blogger Bill Howell.
Two beer booms
As it turns out, Alaska has experienced two periods when beer brewing was a growth industry. The first, naturally, occurred during the Gold Rush, when thousands of thirsty prospectors poured into the country and entrepreneurs jumped in to provide them with fermented beverages safer to drink than the local water.
Technically, these operations were illegal since Alaska had been declared Indian Country upon its purchase from Russia, meaning that any and all alcohol was illegal to possess or sell. In practice, the few federal agents around at the time turned a blind eye when they weren't bellying up to the bar themselves.
Alaska's first breweries appeared in Sitka and Juneau in 1874 and 1886 respectively, as those two towns saw the first settlers in the new territory. Both survived until the turn of the 20th century but not much longer.
Skagway was where the real action took place. Like the city itself, local saloons began as grubby tent operations as soon as the Gold Rush commenced, but quickly moved into plusher locales when proprietors grew wealthy tapping prospectors dry. Under an 1899 federal law, drinking establishments were legalized in Alaska, and within months several local breweries with modern equipment were providing saloons with a steady flow of liquid refreshment.
An economic bust that hit nearly as fast as the Gold Rush itself, along with competition from beers shipped in from Seattle breweries and a vigorous moral campaign by the wives of community leaders, conspired to close Skagway's breweries in a few short years. Brewers moved northwest pursuing the miners to new fields. History repeated itself in Nome and Fairbanks, where breweries again came and went as fortunes rose and fell.
A few breweries popped up elsewhere in the territory during the early 20th century, but after the Bone Dry Law was enacted, it was all over. During Prohibition, bootleggers focused on distilled spirits that were easier to produce, transport and hide than bulky kegs of beer.
Prinz Brau hype
Prohibition ended but the onset of World War II and the subsequent battle for statehood took precedence over beer brewing. It wasn't until the 1970s that a group of German investors, assisted by state subsidies and more hype than a Taylor Swift concert, launched Prinz Brau out of Anchorage. It was a spectacular failure for a multitude of reasons, which Howell lays out in his autopsy of what seemed at the time to be an idea too good to fail.
All this history, along with copious photographs, make up the first half of this book. It's a fun read, but the best chapter is devoted to the unlikely rise and astonishing success of the Alaskan Brewing Company in Juneau. Howell knows the owners well and his account of how they turned their dream into an award-winning line of widely distributed microbrews is almost breathless in its telling. It's a fine piece of good- natured business reporting. Howell also outlines the innovative steps the brewery is taking to lower its overall environmental impact thanks to forward-thinking management.
If the book falters at all, it's in the final quarter. This may not be so much Howell's failing as simply the fact that there's too much for him to work with. Starting in the 1990s microbreweries and brewpubs started appearing all over the state. It was a phenomenon that began in Anchorage and soon expanded to Fairbanks before rapidly spreading to smaller communities (most, but not all of them, on the highway system).
Howell, an aficionado of Alaskan beers, does his best to list all the present operations, so much so that it gets difficult keeping all the names and locations straight, although master brewer Ray Hodge surfaces as a key player in the initial stages of many startups. This section functions better as a guidebook on where to find good beer in your neighborhood rather than the sort of vividly told history that makes up the remainder of the book. Even if a bit dizzying, it's useful.
'Vibrant and dynamic'
Clearly, the beer boom is flourishing in Alaska. As Howell notes, "in less than 10 years, Alaska had gone from having only a single craft brewery in the entire state to having a vibrant and dynamic craft beer culture."
Now, Howell says, there are 25 Alaska breweries with others on the way.
The author has done his research, and he writes exceptionally well. This is especially impressive considering that writing is his second career (he's retired from the Navy). His enthusiasm for his topic is summed up early on: "The bottom line is that the craft beers of Alaska are some of the best brews that almost no one gets to taste who doesn't live here."
Enjoy, Alaskans.
A personal note: Too many Alaskans - especially children - have been killed by drunken drivers. Beer is good, but prison and a lifetime of guilt over causing an avoidable tragedy aren't. Please enjoy microbrews responsibly.
David A. James is a Fairbanks-based freelance writer and critic.