Sail of the Century

How is a pirate ship like a bad opera singer? When it’s murder on the high C’s.

We left Anchorage to suffer through a terrible heatwave – they were sweltering through a record breaking run of 15 consecutive days above 22° C. It’s funny what you get used to, bet they’d scoff at our feeble winter temps.

Before leaving, we had dinner at a Japanese Teppanyaki restaurant, with an impressive display of culinary skill by the chef. At our table were 2 couples who just wouldn’t stop yabbering on while the chef did his thing. One of the couple had moved to Alaska a few years ago and were waxing lyrical to the other couple, who worked for the Sheriff’s Department in Florida, about Alaska’s gun laws which are “awesome!”   The Alaskan bloke went on to say “I’m a Youth Pastor and I always carry a piece, our Senior Pastor carries too”. Why? Evangelism at blank point range? I wanted to ask him what he thought Jesus would ‘carry’, but I was afraid he might have an answer. Just be careful when they announce “passing the peace” at their church, it might just be a “piece” instead. He continued, “Law enforcement in Alaska love it when they are in the middle of an operation, say a hostage situation or siege, and armed citizens turn up to help them out”. Yeah right, a posse of untrained vigilantes is just what every tense situation needs. We slipped away quietly, making no sudden moves.

We headed back to Seward to join the throng of morbidly obese family groups with matching T-shirts (eg Camp Grandpa 2013), and boarded our cruise ship Radiance of the Seas. It was our first large ship cruise and we didn’t really know what we were letting ourselves in for. First things first, check out the climbing wall, mini-golf and the gym, and noting when the formal dining nights were scheduled so we could avoid them as we have not packed our evening wear for this trip. Strange but true.  

We awoke on day one to some proper Alaskan weather - miserable rain and fog with a rolling ship in a heaving ocean.  The rain was horizontal and a gale was blowing across the deck, so the climbing wall and mini-golf were out of action. Mike had a go at freestyle cardio as he zig-zagged across the belt of the treadmill. I attempted the outdoor walking track as I needed fresh air, only to be beaten back by the wind. I was feeling very poorly in mind and body, bringing to mind the immortal words of Samuel Johnston, 18^th century lexicographer, who said “being on a ship is like being in jail, only with a chance of being drowned”. He also advised that the best cure for seasickness is to find a big old oak tree and hug it tightly.  Good idea.    

Happily things settled down in the afternoon as we sailed into calmer waters, up to the face of the Hubbard Glacier. Our ship was 13 storeys tall, and the glacier towered above us. It was doing a fair bit of calving, great cracks and thunderous roars as chunks fell off the face with a mighty splash.

In our opinion, the best part of going on a cruise is getting off the ship. First port of call was Juneau, capital of Alaska, for a ‘glacier view’ kayak trip. The definition of view was a little stretched  - the Mendenhall glacier could be viewed if you squinted hard or used binoculars as it was quite a long way from our paddling spot. We paddled up a stream that salmon use to spawn, unfortunately we were just a few days too late to catch them in the act of spawning. So what we got was a fishy stew of bloaty floaties - back-stroke swimming salmon, at the unhappy end of their life cycle. Spawn then die.  Nice. By the end of the trip, fog had descended and it was hard to make out the shoreline to find our way back. We greeted the next lot of kayak day trippers who looked very miserable as they exited the bus into the rain and fog.  Have I sold you the idea of a cruise yet???

What a Hottie!

Our next stop in Skagway saw some improvement in the weather, which was good for our Glacier Trek excursion. We caught a train which dropped us off in the middle of nowhere so we could walk to the Laughton Glacier. The trip notes advised that we would be walking on the glacier. Again, we shake our heads at folks who thought that shorts might be good to wear on a giant block of ice. At the start of the walk we were given a pair of crampons (spiky shoe soles) which were needed to walk safely on the ice. We enjoyed a beautiful hike through the rainforest and eventually we started to get glimpses of the glacier and spectacular ice falls tumbling from the mountain range. The couple in front of me asked if we could go a bit closer to get a better view. They were surprised and thrilled to be told that they would be actually going on the glacier. The guide said, “that’s why we gave you the spikes so you can walk on the ice”, to which they replied “wow, really, is there ice on the glacier?” No, it’s icing sugar. 

Icing Sugar Glacier

The Iceman cometh

Heading south, we visited Icy Strait Point and did the ‘World’s longest zipline’ which is 5,330 feet long, 1300 feet vertical drop, reaching 60 mph max speed, all over and done with in 90 seconds.  They strap you in behind some gates like a horse race start, then let you go screaming all the way to the bottom. After the initial huge drop, you can settle down and enjoy the view over Glacier Bay.  WOW! Totally awesome!

Deirdre ready to launch

AAAAAAAARGH!

Nice hair

In the afternoon we joined an “advanced kayaking trip”. There was also a shorter trip, but we relished the opportunity to go a bit further and faster so picked the advanced version which promised wildlife viewing opportunities.  Silly us.  Half the group had never kayaked before – which part of the word “advanced” would make you think it was suitable for beginners? Most of the group paddled with their paddles upside down, one guy had them backwards. I did try to suggest he turn them around but he didn’t seem to understand what I meant. The guide appeared in no mood to paddle anywhere much, so we mooched around the dock and marina which was hugely frustrating and annoying. The weather was superb in a scenic location – some compensation.     

Our last shore day was in Ketchikan, 3^rd rainiest place in the US. But for us, sunshine! We did a self-guided walking tour which majored on the salmon streams. This time the salmon were very much alive and filled the stream to capacity. We have never seen so many fish! In one section we saw a sea-lion who had obviously cottoned on to the idea of the ‘all-you-can-eat salmon buffet’ – he certainly looked well-fed. On our walk, we met a local elderly man who stopped us to ask where we are from. He said that he liked to do that every day, and he had met people from all over the world. He was amazingly well informed about Australia, which was unusual and refreshing.

Salmon soup!

Salmon all in a Roe

Ketchikan's Creek St

In the afternoon we took a floatplane to a remote bay and walked to a stream to see black bears fishing for salmon. We saw 4 bears, including one that had lost his left front paw – it appeared to still be red raw. Still, he managed to pluck a fish out pretty easily, so hopefully he will survive.

Our 3 legged hero comes to fish

and goes home a winner

Our last day was at sea, sailing down the “Inside Passage” between Vancouver Island and the mainland, where we had been kayaking several weeks before. As we passed the camp, we made sure to wave, however no-one was at the camp to return our salutation. Never mind. Another glorious day made life at sea much more comfortable than our first sea day. The crew put on all sorts of demonstrations such as vegetable carving, serviette folding, towel folding (they made gorillas, turtles, frogs, elephants, swans and more) and some impressive ice carving using glacial ice. The cruise director reported that someone had asked him what they do with the carving once it has melted.  

You’ll be pleased to know that my melancholy of day 1 was left behind, and all in all it was an enjoyable cruise. Not sure I would sign up for another big ship cruise, but you just never know……