The US island that once belonged to Russia

Tucked away in the windswept Aleutian Islands, Unalaska sits at the edge of the world—where North America leans into Siberia and the Pacific meets the Bering Sea. It lies even farther west than Hawaii, and while it’s part of the United States, its story feels like a bridge between continents.

This rugged island belongs to a chain of volcanic islands stretching 1,100 miles toward Russia’s Kamchatka Peninsula. Known as the Aleutians, these islands are wild and remote, shaped by fire, ice, and some of the most extreme weather on Earth. Locals don’t call it the “Cradle of Storms” or “Birthplace of Winds” for nothing—this is a place where hurricane-force winds, rain, fog, and cyclones roll in like clockwork.

With about 4,200 residents, Unalaska is home to fishermen, workers, and the Indigenous Unangax̂ people—also known as the Aleuts—who have lived here for nearly 9,000 years. For generations, they built a life from the sea and land, long before outside forces arrived. But colonization, disease, and cultural erosion drastically reduced their population. Today, only about 2,000 Unangax̂ remain across Alaska and the Aleutians.

But this remote island wasn’t just shaped by Indigenous resilience—it also bears the marks of Russia. In 1741, Russian explorers arrived, followed by waves of fur traders. By the late 1700s, Unalaska was officially part of the Russian Empire. Many locals still have Russian surnames, and the Russian Orthodox Church left a lasting footprint. One such treasure is the Church of the Holy Ascension, built in 1896. It’s the oldest Russian Orthodox cathedral in North America and still holds sacred icons—some gifts from Catherine the Great herself.

From 2013 to 2023, Reverend Evon Bereskin, a Unangax̂ native, served as the church’s only Orthodox priest. He made it his mission to preserve the building and made services more inclusive by translating them into English. “It was an unbelievable honour,” he shared, reflecting on his role as custodian of such deep history.

Unalaska’s importance grew again during World War II. After the attack on Pearl Harbor, Japanese forces bombed Dutch Harbor in June 1942, killing 50 people. This was one of the few times US soil was directly attacked. Japan later invaded nearby Kiska and Attu islands. To defend the region, the US and Canada sent over 145,000 troops. Remains of this time—like bunkers and ruins—still dot the hills of Unalaska.

One haunting reminder is the wreck of the SS Northwestern, a steamship destroyed during the Japanese attack. Its rusted hull still emerges from the water near Dutch Harbor—a ghostly symbol of war.

The war also brought tragedy to the Unangax̂. With only a day’s notice, 881 Indigenous residents were forced to evacuate and were interned in poor conditions in southeast Alaska. Nearly 10% didn’t survive. When they returned years later, their homes were destroyed. Decades later, in 1988, the US government finally issued an apology and compensation.

After the war, Unalaska slowly reinvented itself. It’s now a major center for commercial fishing. Dutch Harbor is the most active fishing port in the US by volume and gained fame through the reality show Deadliest Catch. Hundreds of fishing vessels come here each year, hauling in millions of pounds of fish—about 10% of the US seafood industry. Pollock is the star catch, used in fish sticks, imitation crab, and even McDonald’s Filet-o-Fish sandwiches.

UniSea, the island’s biggest seafood processor, takes pride in sustainable fishing. “We use every part of the pollock,” said CEO Tom Enlow. “Nothing goes to waste.” Fish oil even powers parts of the plant, reducing reliance on diesel.

But Unalaska is more than fish. Its nutrient-rich waters are alive with orcas, sea otters, porpoises, whales, and seals. Rare birds like the whiskered auklet attract bird lovers from all over the world. And hikers roam the dramatic trails of this volcanic island, climbing hills with sweeping views and discovering bunkers hidden in the grass.

Unalaska is a place where natural power and layered history meet. It tells a story of ancient survival, colonial clash, war scars, and economic reinvention. It’s a forgotten corner of the US, yet its story stretches across oceans—and centuries.