There are only two ways to get to Meyers Chuck, Alaska: by boat or float plane. If you go by plane, you might hitch a ride on a de Havilland Beaver, circa 1958 — one of the planes that brings the mail every week. It comes in low over specks of islands and the forested Alaska coast, and curves into the protected inlet of Meyers Chuck, splashing down at high tide. On the day we visit, a handful of boats are tied up along a floating mooring. Small wooden cabins are nestled among the trees. Meyers Chuck is off the grid, with no roads or cars, and even by Alaska standards, it's tiny. Summer is the busy season, when people boat up to their cabins and swell the population to 25 or so. In the winter, that drops to about five, or sometimes even just two: Cassy and Steve Peavey. Cassy Peavey, 74, is the postmistress of Meyers Chuck, and Steve, 79, is her husband. The Peaveys have heard the mail plane approach, and are waiting for us on the dock. Today, the plane is delivering about 90 pounds of
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