Deep in the Tongass, enshrouded by the West Chichagof-Yakobi Wilderness, sits a behemoth. This is a colossus not only in its physical form but also in the rippling magnitude of its corporeal impacts to culture, art, and conservation across the region.
The journey to this nearly one-ton providence begins with a trip to Pelican, a community of less than 100 folks who, like many across Southeast Alaska, are in deep relation with this piece of machinery, the space it inhabits, and the people responsible not only for its past but those too who are now taking on its future. Launching from that coastal community, a boat ride along the rugged Lisianski Inlet, mountains, forests, and marine life beckoning on all sides, brings you to the estate of acclaimed artists Eric and Pam Bealer.
Walking from the beach and crossing the sedge meadow, you’ll first see Eric’s workshop where, a shipwright, he built wooden boats and kept his tools. A new roof and solar panels proudly adorn and bring structural and energetic stability to the space. Next is the historic barn where ponies, sheep, and chickens were kept by the Bealers as they homesteaded on the property (the ponies inspiring the Bealers to bestow the name of Sea Pony Farm to their abode). Once a home for the animals at the foundation of their life, including the sheep Pam would use for her fabric arts, the barn space is being transformed into a communal workspace and sleeping area with the capacity to host small groups of creatives and changemakers. Lined from floor to roof with cedar shingles, the original structure was originally hand-built alongside everything else on the property by Eric and Pam themselves.
Traveling further inward, gravitational pull now nearly palpable, under a protective covering is the leviathan itself: the iconic Vandercook No. 3 press Eric used to roll out and print his renowned depictions of the region. With so few in operation around the world, to have one tucked away and functional in the remote, wild location of Sea Pony Farm is a fact equal in its implausibility as it is in its marvel. The matter that it is not merely a relic of a printmaking great but now, thanks to the Sitka Conservation Society (SCS), an operational tool ready to breathe life into the prints of current and future artists is a reality beyond imagination.
Bringing Bertha to Life
When the Bealers left their property to SCS’s Living Wilderness Fund in 2018, it came as a surprise to the organization. An overwhelming legacy to inherit, initial conversations considered selling the property and putting that money into the endowment itself. However, after staff and volunteers began spending time on the property, they began to see a different vision.
“Volunteers and SCS staff began to spend time up there and realized how special of a place it was,” said Lione Clare, the wilderness and community engagement coordinator at SCS. “(The Living Wilderness Fund) is an endowment fund to ensure that future generations can use and enjoy the Tongass and that the Tongass will always have a voice.”
Renovations have been ongoing over the last eight years and SCS has made alterations with a commitment to using salvaged materials, including logs that have washed up on the property, and local lumber. Looking to make the space into one that can host multiple people during retreats and workshops, and as a home base for stewardship projects, they’ve balanced the dual priorities of making Sea Pony Farm into a place that honors the people that once lived there while also making it accessible for the many new folks who will now be able to pass through.
“(We want to have) the same aesthetic that Eric used when he built the place, which is very artistic,” Clare said. “It’s not perfectly square or super intricate, but it’s beautiful and functional and (uses) the natural curvature of the wood and the logs. It’s been really fun exploring Southeast and finding talented people that can build in that similar style.”
The presses themselves that Eric used to produce his prolific body of work are perhaps the focal points of the property for those interested in printmaking. Specifically, there’s an etching press and a Vandercook No. 3 printing press.
“There’s less than 3000 (Vandercooks) that are surviving and, of that, less than half are probably active,” said Bethany Goodrich, a printmaker and the storytelling program director at the Sustainable Southeast Partnership and SCS. “The fact that this one exists in this really remote, wild location makes it extra improbable and whimsical and magical.”
Community effort has been at the heart of this renovation operation and hundreds of volunteer and staff hours have gone into everything from carpentry to manual labor. To get the press ready to roll once again, SCS phoned in a friend (and the first printmaker in residence to launch Sea Pony Press): Los Angeles-based printmaker Elizabeth Jean Younce.
“The Vandercook was what were excited to work with Elizabeth to restart, and it was really, really well taken care of,” Goodrich shared.
So well taken care of, in fact, that even after seven years of silence it only took one morning of work before they were able to pull their first print. Together, Goodrich and Younce spent time getting to know the idiosyncrasies of this centenarian press. In fine-tuning adjustments for the heights of the rollers and oiling the various components, the magnitude and honor of these tasks were not lost.
“Bethany and I were the first people to (operate) Eric’s press since he passed away,” said Younce. “It was definitely very surreal – just being on the property in general is very surreal because it’s such a beautiful space and you can feel the love that they had there. (…) As we pulled the cover off the press there were little notes that Eric had left from the last prints that he pulled and there were proofs of those last prints on the press as well.”
“He spent so much time understanding the idiosyncrasies of how to use that specific press, Bertha as he called it, that we were just trying to learn those and keep that going,” Goodrich added.
The first thing that was pulled off the fully functioning, breathing machine was the manifesto that SCS created to outline how they would use the press to honor the legacy of community and creativity that the Bealers are so well known for. The manifesto, in part, reads:
“Reborn in a time of chaos the old Vandercook hauled by big hearted dreamers on the backs of king tides, rattling atop old mining carts, returns! (…) Sea Pony Farm is a mossy hideaway, protected by sedge blades and a heavy fog that keeps the riff raff out. A place to create slowly, rapidly, seriously, foolishly. (…) To illustrate and amplify our love for the Tongass.”
In Goodrich’s own art practice, like so many others here in Southeast Alaska, inspiration comes directly from the deep connection to land and waters that are at the foundation of this regional identity.
“It’s natural to explore that connection through creative expression, and printmaking has this long history of being used as a tool to pull people together and to drive movements,” Goodrich said. “We want to use this space to build and celebrate the community of people who are connected to the Tongass and our unique ways of life by facilitating acts of creative expression.”
The Halo Effect
Renovating the property has only been the first step for SCS. Eventually, the goal will be to find ways to use the space to host art retreats, workshops, and conservation projects that could further the mission to protect the lands and waters at the heart of both their own organization and the Bealers’ lifestyle.
“When it came to restarting the printing presses, I knew we had to be intentional and do them justice,” Goodrich said. “We can’t bring everybody here to these actual presses on the edge of wilderness – so how do we bring this magic we inherited outward into the world and share it and make it more accessible?”
After printing the manifesto, Goodrich got to work finding a way to bring the press to the people through a collaborative poster project with artists across the region. Goodrich used photopolymer plates of phrases like “Defend the Tongass,” “The Tongass Is,” and “Public Lands are Precious” to print poster blanks on Eric’s Vandercook. The idea being that artists could then illustrate them, depicting their own unique relationship to the Tongass.
Believing that the creative energy of Southeast Alaska would bring this project to life, SCS sent the poster blanks to artists across the region asking them to interpret their relationship with lands however felt was true to them. The results were stunning.
“For instance, Annika Ord did a really beautiful multi-step relief print of a sea lion giving birth,” Goodrich said. “Then, Ariadne Will in Sitka did one using paper from the pulp mill days and fabric of photography of the Tongass and sewed paper dolls which was really unique. We have an embroidered poster, some traditional prints, collages, and are pulling a second edition of posters off the Vandercook right now.”
Sending out poster blanks printed on Sea Pony Press is an immediate exemplification of the organization’s pledge to bring new life into the estate and the means through which they hope to connect folks to the wild lands throughout this region. Using creative expression to forge and strengthen the bonds between people and land was ultimately an incredible nod to the Bealers’ legacy.
“Working for an advocacy organization and working in conservation, the day-to-day can feel like everything is urgent,” Goodrich said. “Art can feel like it’s this frivolous venture and starting Sea Pony Press has been a reminder that art carries culture and it carries our communities and helps us celebrate what we have in common. It’s natural to be combining art and creative expression with conservation and advocating for our love of place.”
The Doors Open
In addition to her help bringing the Vandercook back into operation, Younce was also the first artist in residence to pull original prints off of the press. During her two weeks on the property, Younce carved three blocks inspired by the ecosystems of the West Chichagof-Yakobi Wilderness.
“In the last few years my practice has really focused on immersing myself in place,” Younce said. “Going on hikes and recording all the plants and animals I’m seeing, and then building a composition out of that.”
In taking the boat from Sitka, where she also teaches at the Sitka Fine Arts Camp, to Pelican, she saw a few red-throated loons flying and, feeling it was a good omen, knew she found the subject for her first print. Hoping to partially bridge the gap between nature and science through her own body of work, Younce’s philosophy is deeply aligned with the driving forces behind the Living Wilderness Fund – making her a serendipitous and well deserving first resident.
“Oftentimes I feel like scientists are working (with) data that is not easily communicated to the public. The same goes for conservationists, and so I think as an artist who is really inspired by our natural world, and who is really passionate about conservation, I hope to be able to visualize and help educate the public on what needs to be conserved,” she said.
Rooted in communion with the town of Pelican, the ripples from Sea Pony Farm are once again making their way in that direction through SCS’s programming. As part of her residency, Younce hosted a printmaking workshop in town.
“It’s a great way to expose people to what makes this place so special and worth protecting. We had kids and there was even a visiting seiner from Sitka that stayed in town to do the (workshop),” Goodrich said.
Now that renovations are nearly complete, the gears are turning on future workshops, hands-on events, and even a trust-based sales system and art rack in Pelican so people can engage with what is happening on the property even if they cannot get out there themselves.
“Art in this work helps consecrate and strengthen our identity as Southeast Alaskans, and we have a beautiful identity here,” Goodrich said.
Now part of the Living Wilderness Fund, Sea Pony Farm is not only churning out prints that will have the capacity to inspire new generations, but transforming into a space with the capacity to support the people, projects, and ideas committed to protecting wilderness areas across Southeast Alaska. Thanks to the donation of the Bealers and the commitment to care by SCS, deep in the wilderness the beast groans on – whispering a message of hope and resilience that echoes out across the water to all who might be so kind as to bend an ear.
The Sea Pony Press is a program of the Living Wilderness Fund of the Sitka Conservation Society. The presses were revitalized with support from Sustainable Southeast Partnership and the Richard L & Diane M Block Foundation. Learn more about the Living Wilderness Fund at sitkawild.org and sign up for Sea Pony Press updates at tinyurl.com/seaponysignup.This story is the eighth and final installation of “Pressing Silence,” a series of feature stories on traditional printmakers in Southeast Alaska. The series is made possible in part by the Alaska Center for Excellence in Journalism’s Arts Reporting Grant.
Rachel Levy is a Juneau-based photojournalist whose work culminates at the intersections of environmental justice, arts and culture, and sustainable tourism. A 2022 graduate of Harvard University's Environmental Policy program, she is also the director of the award-winning documentary "Hidden in Plain Sight" that exposes the labor exploitation and colonial framework burdening Tanzania's safari industry.
