If you were to ask me how versatile a homesteader must be, I'd invite you to come see for yourself. Hike across the tidal basin and over the ridge to my homestead, perched on the ocean's edge in southern Alaska.
Strictly and legally speaking, this is not a homestead. The Federal Homestead Act that allowed Americans to claim 160 acres by "proving up" the land over five years ended in 1976 in the U.S. except in Alaska, where it ended in 1986. Now "homesteading" means living off the land as independently as possible.
Here we are. The previous owner built the cabin by hand. That's a James washer, we use it to wash clothes. It's purchased, but we modified it to make it safe to use. That's not an open pit outhouse; we use a home-built composting toilet system. The contraption over there is a pulk, a harness-pulled sled. I built it myself to haul firewood and supplies.
Come inside for coffee! It won't take long since we installed the propane stove. I'd never used one before. I had to learn how to hook up the tanks with the proper couplings. Before that, I was happy to use the wood stove. We've gotten pretty good at cooking on it. You like the hearth? We built that ourselves when we installed the wood stove, choosing rocks from the beach and mortaring them with cement. Beside it is a wood-heated hot water tank. We used to have a larger one, but we couldn't patch it anymore, and had to tear it out and replace it with this one. I had to change the plumbing and re-sweat the fittings to the new equipment. We rebuilt the drains in the sinks and replaced the shower spigots at the same time.
Would you grab the coffee jar? It's under the sink. The hose under there is our fire hose, it's tied into the plumbing. You'll also notice fire extinguishers everywhere, and smoke alarms in all the buildings. All three of us have practiced knocking down a fire with an extinguisher at the Fire Department. Can you imagine a municipal fire department responding to a fire on this side of the ridge? We're completely on our own in that case. Same with injuries, unless we can hike or boat out. We've got some first aid training, but we intend to get certified in back country emergency response next time it's offered. It's one of the few trainings available anymore that go beyond how to stabilize an injured person until 911 sends the ambulance. That's not going to happen here.
A guest broke her ankle two years ago. She had a green-stick fracture. We made a poultice out of plantain, that flattened plant you see in the yard. She had it checked when she got home. That's when they discovered the fracture! She told her doctor about the poultice, and he said it was the best thing we could have done for her. Now we keep two pairs of crutches on the property just in case.
Be careful of those jugs, that will be rosehip wine in a few months. Do you like that counter? I built it out of plywood. The same with the firewood box. The box in the corner is the battery bank. The batteries were in the outhouse at first. We moved them inside so they wouldn't freeze. I vented it outside, relocated the controller boxes, rewired everything. I tied in the new solar panel array at the same time. The cabin wiring is getting old and we need more outlets. I intend to rewire the whole place soon. I've already tied the stereo and the Citizens' Band radio into the DC line. Right now the inverter handles the AC requirements, but I hope to add a few DC outlets for some of our rechargeable tools. They'll draw less power that way. Where did I learn to work with electricity? Books, manuals, trial and error . . . the same way we learned to do everything else around here.
Let me show you around outside. Here are our boats: I built the three sailboats. The rowboats, kayaks and canoe are factory-built, but I've patched each of them over the years. The gill nets there I cobbled together from odds and ends. I've also taught myself to throw a cast net. Mostly, though, we use our fishing poles.
Those are our crab traps. The one on the left is original store-bought, the rest I modified myself. The State changed the escape hatch requirements after they were built, and I had to make changes to them to be legal again.
You can see the garden's pretty well laid out now; that's my wife's doing. We're piling on seaweed to build up the soil, which is pretty thin. That's the greenhouse. Do you like the water catchment system? My wife made that. It'll automatically shut off when that bucket gets full. Those beds? That's lettuce, five different varieties. The little green plant underneath is really tasty, too. My wife makes pesto with it, or we use it in salads. Most people consider it a weed, but it's got more nutrients than a lot of leafy vegetables. The cold frames are over there, where they'll get better sun this winter.
Here's our guest house. We installed this wood stove two years ago. The summer water system's up the hill, its diversion system is in the creek. You saw the winter water system when we came down the ridge; it collects water underground with a seep dam. Over there's our main wood lot, where we cut standing dead trees to buck and split for firewood. That got a lot easier after I learned to sharpen the axes differently for specific uses. I've got the tools and a manual for sharpening the two-person saw, I just have to read about it, then give it a try.
That? It's a moose track. The permit hunt's coming up, I'd better clean my rifle soon and practice at the firing range. We're working on our archery skills to qualify for the bow hunt next spring. The voles? We shoot them with blowguns. Mostly, though, minks and weasels keep their numbers down. The predators may become a problem if we raise chickens next summer. First we need to see if we can figure out a good way to keep the chickens fed without hauling bags of commercial feed over that ridge.
No, that looks like bear scat, but it's moose. It looks like that when they're on their summer browse, the nuggets come from woodier browse. Fooled us too, until we researched it. I don't see any bear scat today, or I could show you the difference between them.
You're right, there are a lot of mushrooms here. From where we're standing, I see three varieties that are safe to eat, but only two of them actually taste good. That one is deadly poison, though.
We just overhauled the wind generator you see on the left. It wore out. We have four old units like that. We chose the best parts from among them and made a new one, then painted and reinstalled it. The one on the right burned out two winters ago. I had to climb up there to disconnect and remove it, lower it, and send it off for repairs, then haul it back up, put it back in place, and reconnect it. I made a homemade safety harness and lashed my longest ladder to the tower pole, but it still scared me to death.
That dish gives us Internet by satellite. We use it to help home school our daughter, and I design Websites to bring in some income. We don't need much, since we have so few expenses here.
We might want to step inside now, there's a nasty squall coming. How do I know? See the cats paws coming across the water there? Then you see the pattern in that cloud cover to the south? Around here, that means rain. See, now you can tell it's raining on the mountains across the way. It'll be here about the time we get back to the cabin. Looks like it won't last long. We'll have a comfortable hike back to your car in about an hour.
What's the key to living here? I'd say it comes down to this: living in a regular neighborhood, you can do a few things for yourself if you want, then find someone else to do the rest, either hire a professional, or rely on the government to take care of it. On a homestead, to a far greater extent you do it yourself, find help to work along side you, or do without.
It's a good life! All you have to do is stay versatile.