Juneau’s residents are divided over whether to embrace the economic benefits of millions of visitors, or reclaim their town from an industry that has reshaped it
“T he noise never stops,” says Karla Hart, her voice competing with the hum of approaching helicopters. “I can feel them before I see them.” She looks at her phone to check a website that monitors air traffic and identifies operators. Hart wants to know whether the pilots are adhering to legal flight routes.
A few minutes later, five helicopters, flying in formation, crisscross the grey October skies above Hart’s home in Juneau, Alaska’s capital. “I get groups of two to five helicopters flying over my house every 20 minutes. On any given day, that adds up to 50 to 75 flights. It’s impossible to enjoy my garden or concentrate on work.”
For Hart and other Juneau residents, the noise from helicopters shuttling cruise tourists to remote glaciers is one of the many reminders of how their lives are being upended by a city that has embraced industrial tourism.