Taking the College Fjords

Magnificent Harvard glacier "calving"

September 12

The final day of sightseeing in Alaska aboard ship proved to be one of the most awe-inspiring. It was a journey to Glacier Bay National Park and Preserve. If ever there was a testament to global warming, it is Glacier Bay, which was visited by Captain George Vancouver 200 years ago. Vancouver, for whom the Canadian city was named, observed that Glacier Bay was a huge bay blocked at its northern terminus by a huge wall of ice. Over the course of time since then, the glaciers have retreated leaving 65 miles of new inlets and waterways only accessible by large vessels like the Volendam. U.S. Park Rangers came on board the ship and guided passengers into historical and geological explanations of what we were witnessing for ourselves. The largest grouping of glaciers is found in Glacier Bay at an area named College Fjords because all of the glaciers were charted about a hundred years ago and named for different institutions of higher education such as Harvard, Yale and Wellsley. The sound of a glacier "calving," or dropping large chunks of ice (or icebergs) into the salt water is not unlike a clap of thunder that follows a lightning strike. The difference is that just after the booming crack lets out a large chunk of white or blue and white ice can be seen plummeting to the sea in a powerful splash. Sometimes the icebergs are quite huge, but most of the times the pieces that flake off the glacier are relatively small like the size of a small room or a bed. Thousands of these floating pieces of ice line the way toward the glaciers and resemble floating markers that signal one of nature's most incredible marvels, albeit one of its slowest moving forces. Passengers on the decks watched in awe and listened as these giants moaned and cracked througout the day as salt water incursion caused the hundreds of years-old ice to crash to the sea. The day was quite chilly and many availed themselves of ample supplies of hot chocolate to steel themselves from the constant barrage of high winds and low temperatures. This was Alaska at its brutal best and the weather that seemed in the morning to be too cloudy or threatening broke through in the afternoon yielding incredible sights and sounds that will be remembered for a lifetime.

As evening fell, it was time for Shabbat. The ship provided two challahs, some terrible kosher wine and a nice sponge cake in order to bring in the Sabbath. There was time to welcome the Sabbath Bride in a fashion with some very Reform prayerbooks and I appreciated the overture by the cruise line to accomodate the few Jews who were on board.

September 13

The last full day of the cruise was spent packing and saying goodbye to the wonderful crew aboard the M/S Volendam (that dam ship!). We were treated to an afternoon Indonesian Tea Ceremony by the wait staff, all of whom hail from Indonesia. The final meal was a "Master's Chef Dinner," where everyone got to wear chef's hats and enjoy a repast appropriately capped off with baked Alaska for dessert. The last night I helped my teammates win the "Name That Tune" contest which featured children's songs. Was there any better indication that I suffer from Peter Pan syndrome? When I finally made it to my bed for the night, the Indonesian stewart for my cabin had made one of the delightful towel animals they make for guests. He had made a lobster, a clam, and a dog among others. But he had not honored my request for an elephant. That night he did:

My elephant "towel animal"

Helicopters and Trains

Atop Mead Glacier outside of Skagway

September 11

By the time that we docked at our last destination -- Skagway, Alaska -- the third stop in as many days, I was a bit disappointed. The reason was that I had booked an Alaskan four-glacier helicopter tour for the afternoon the ship was docked in Juneau. As it turned out, all air excursions were canceled due to low cloud cover. So, I hastily rebooked another air adventure -- a helicopter landing on one glacier -- before the excursion office closed on Wednesday afternoon. If things worked out, I would be on a morning flight to just one glacier at a little bit of a reduced rate, but with a bit more time spent on the glacier itself. That morning I steeled myself for what would be the third helicopter ride of my life, the first and second being airlifts out of the Grand Canyon. The bus picked up our party and we arrived in time to be one of the first six helicopter parties to fly out onto Mead Glacier, about 25 minutes flight away from the heliport. Because of my weight, I was chosen to sit in front of the vehicle, while the three ladies on the trip sat behind me. We followed the other five helicopters rising majestically in the air like proud birds rising above the landscape and then moving at breakneck speed some 2,000 feet above the Alaskan Inner Passage. Wow! What a ride! At such a height it is almost impossible to take in all of the beauty and splendor of the countryside, but it was nothing short of overwhelming. By the time we flew towards the incredible Mead Glacier and landed there, my senses were on overdrive. A glacier is a dirty place and, yet, the water that pours off of it is incredibly pure. I was actually able to drink glacier water while there, cupping my hands and making a perfect drinking cup to hold waters half a millenium old. It may not have been the Fountain of Youth, but it tasted very good, albeit very cold. By the time that our 25 minutes had been used up, we had been exposed to all manner of glacier features including the deep crevasses and moraines, which make the glaciers appear soiled because they carry much of the fine, powdery material that is deposited and moved along by the glaciers as they grind their way slowly downward. Glaciers are essentially frozen anvils of ice that move from high perches and make their way toward the sea, smoothing every in their paths. They are also moved along by small rivers of water that permeate the entire structure and lubricate the giant ice formations as they move ever slowly downward. While atop the Mead Glacier, I was able to view deep crevasses carved out by rivulets and streams of melting water that cut through the structure.

Later that afternoon it was time for me to take the White Pass and Yukon Railroad, built just after the Yukon Gold Rush, the biggest gold rush ever known. The railroad constructed over the Chilkroot Pass was considered something of a modern marvel in that it reached heights only dreamed of by miners of the late 1890's. Althought the track is a smaller-than-normal gauge, the train that runs upon it is well managed and the picturesque sights along the way to the top and looking down towards the valley make for an incredible adventure. The track runs all the way into British Columbia, so everyone had to have their passports before driving back across the border into the United States after the train ride was over.The last part of our adventure consisted of stopping at Liarsville, a depiction of a Klondike gold village that would have been considered accurate back in the late 1890s. Several of the performers were quite fun to be around and afterwards we all panned for gold just like the hopeful miners did back in the day. On the way back we steeled ourselves for the final day of voyaging that would take us to the College Fjords, home of the biggest confluence of glaciers in the Alaska inner Passage, the next day.

Deep crevasses of blue hue mark all glaciers.

Deep crevasses cut into glaciers

White Pass and Yukon Railroad moving up the railway.

Sailing and Whaling

A humpback whale descending to feed

September 10

One of the best reasons to cruise the Alaskan Inner Passage is to witness the cavorting and playfulness of several species of aquatic life such as humpback whales, orcas (or "killer whales" as they are known colloquially), sea lions and sea otters. All are regular players in Alaska during the summer months and the ship cruises and side expeditions on smaller boats in particular offer spectacular opportunities to view these magnificent creatures in their local habitats. There is perhaps no greater joy than watching whales play in the chilly waters of the Alaskan wilderness as they gorge themselves or mate prior to making journeys that will take them as far away as Hawaii. Upon arriving in the capital city of Juneau, the third largest city in Alaska, we were all disappointed that the splendiferous weather we had had in Vancouver, at sea and in Ketchikan seemed to be leaving us. The skies were dark and rain drizzled throughout the morning and early afternoon hours. The first stop was the Mendenhall Glacier, a beautiful example of the rivers of ice that have ground much of the Alaskan countryside over the course of millions of years. A number of calves or small icebergs could be seen bearing the characteristic blue hue that is an optical illusion. The blue is the result of the density of the glacial ice that starts out as hundreds of feet of compressed snow and becomes very dense ice. The ice is so dense that it will only permit the blue spectrum of light to exit, so the beautiful deep blue hue is characteristic of most glaciers.

Mendenhall Glacier located in Juneau

Following the stop at the Mendenhall Glacier, we boarded our bus to head towards a boat launch in what was now a steady rain. We climbed a double level boat that then headed out into the Pacific where whales and sea lions were expected to be seen. The inside was toasty warm and the crew offered us insights into these aquatic creatures, but the outside level above was quite chilly. The high humidity cut through one's clothing. It wasn't long before we were viewing eight humpback whales. To see these beautiful creatures up close is absolutely astonishing. But that wasn't all. We ran into a pod of five killer whales (orcas), a group of four females and one young male. We also spotted nearly a hundred sea lions nestled out on an island and were looking for porpoises before we had to call it a day. But what a day! Despite the overcast skies and the rainy weather, it was the best viewing the crew had seen in at least two weeks and was one of their best days of the summer! Check out the orcas below:

Killer whales are not dangerous to man, only seals and other whales

The rest of the day consisted of a few hours to kill at the Red Dog Saloon or checking out some good buys in shops located near the docks. The governor's mansion was visible from the main street in Juneau and two museums were accessible until 5:00 p.m. for those so inclined. Frankly, I enjoyed the scenery at one of the local pubs that featured free wireless access to the Internet for the price of buying one drink. It was after 5 o'clock, so I reckoned, why not?

Sailing Away, Zipping Away and Salmon Away

M/S Volendam (that dam ship!)

September 7 and 8

Unless you are a Native American or (as the tribes of Northwest America refer to themselves) a member of the First Nation, your predecessors probably came to the New World aboard a passenger ship, freighter or other seaworthy vessel. This traveling by sea is truly in the blood of most Americans, although some travel better than others. The rocking and rolling motion has always been very tranquil and settling to me, but there are many individuals who find it the least likeable part of traveling by sea. I hadn't been at sea in some time, probably close to eight years, but I still found that I had my "sea legs" as the M/S Volendam made her way out towards the Alaska inner passage. I vividly remember sailing aboard the Crystal Harmony on a voyage to China in 1996. Unfortunately, we hit Yeats, one of two typhoons that were blowing in the South China Sea at the end of September. We were heading for Okinawa, after having left Taipai, Taiwan and immediately the boat started rocking and tossing the passengers from side to side. It was so bad that passengers weren't allowed outdoors due to slippery conditions and 40-foot seas with 60-mile-per-hour winds. It was rough. Two passengers suffered broken arms and collarbones. Lots of people, particularly the older travelers, were seasick. But, except for a few little twinges every now and then, I was fine. Eventually, the ship headed straight for Shanghai, the first time that I know that a cruise vessel went from National Republic of China to the People's Republic of China. The cruise on the Volendam was a joke compared to that cruise.

Zipping along the Alaka rainforest canopy in Ketchikan

September 9

We arrived in Ketchikan early in the morning. The excursion tours that were offered by Holland America were varied. Some were strenuous. Some were more inclined toward the sedentary set, where one could simply sit and have the scenery pass in front and along the sides. I decided to take a more adventurous route and elected to enjoy an Alaska Canopy Adventure, specifically the Rainforest Canopy and Zipline Expedition. The route I chose in Ketchikan was a particularly fun and challenging zipline perched 100 feet or so above the rainforest floor. Yes, in case you hadn’t thought about it, Alaska is home to the world’s largest rainforest. Due to deforestation and development, the title formerly held by that rainforest in the Amazon region was taken over by Alaska and the Tongass National Forest a few years ago. Even though one might automatically think of a rainforest as being in a tropical environment, it does not have to be. In the case of Alaska’s temperate rainforest, much of it is protected by federal law. It is home to significant numbers of bears (brown, black and grizzly) and is the spawning grounds for a huge expanse of salmon. My zipline adventure consisted of eight runs, one of which was over 700 feet across the forest top. The fastest of the runs had participants reaching speeds of near 35 miles-per-hour. There is nothing to describe the sheer beauty of peering out from perches high above the forest floor where sightings of bears and creeks filled with salmon are common. The Alaska Rainforest Canopy and Zipline Expedition, which also included three suspended bridges, took over an hour and a half to compete. Once we reached terra firma again, we were presented with Olympic-style gold medals signaling that we had finished our tour. Later that afternoon I had a chance to tour uncharacteristically sunny Ketchikan. Ketchikan is home to 7,000 inhabitants with cruise ships bringing in as many tourists as locals most summer days. It is also home to a multitudinous amount of spawning salmon, which can readily be seen moving against streams that run through the center of “Alaska’s First City.” The history of the town is as colorful as its buildings with a historic red light district near the center. One building is dedicated to Dolly, the most well-known madam of the town. Those Alaskan nights get to be pretty chilly, so I can understand the need to share…er… uh…bodily warmth.

Vancouver first

An untypical sunny Vancouver day just prior to setting sail aboard the M/S Volendam

September 6

The memories of Hurricane Gustav were still fresh in my mind on September 5 when I returned to New Orleans. The thoughts of tires stuck in the mud, a blown front tire, blinding rain, blustery winds and long lines of heavy traffic were still very much with me when I repacked the large suitcase I intended to take with me on my Alaskan cruise. That last day was fraught with peril and there was really no time to make needed runs to the bank and to the food store to restock all of the perishable items I had removed and given away at Henry S. Jacobs Camp or consumed before leaving for the trip. I did manage to make it to Loew's to return several hundred dollars worth of storm-related supplies, but, alas, the generator was not returnable. So, I now have a perfectly fine portable generator filled with gasoline that I hope to use (or hope to not have the occasion to use) in the future. But my thoughts had turned from hurricanes to the high seas. I was ready to leave early the next morning. The M/S Volendam (that dam ship!) was to embark from Vancouver, British Columbia, truly one of the most beautiful cities in the world on Sunday morning, September 7. Unfortunately, because of Gustav, American Airlines decided to cancel the two early morning flights from New Orleans to Dallas, despite the information on the website that stated everything was scheduled and on time. This required a run to Brennan's Restaurant to sample some grits and grillades, Eggs Sardou and Bananas Foster. After all, I wasn't certain how civilized these Cannucks were going to be. The rescheduled flight put me into Canada in the early evening rather than early afternoon, so the afternoon tour of the city was rescheduled for the next morning, just prior to the time that the ship would set sail for the 49th state.

Governor Palin wasn't home

Mendenhall Glacier located outside of Ketchikan, Alaska

Ike was as probably as bad as I had feared. I am truly sorry for those people living along the Louisiana and Texas coasts who took the full brunt of the storm. Many of my friends from the area in Lafourche and Terrebonne Parishes took a double hit from Gustav and then Ike. I will be seeing what I can personally do to help my friends in Scouting there, particularly those in the Houma area. Regular readers may have wondered why I haven't posted more regularly over the course of the last week and I gave a hint last Friday, the last time I had access to the Internet. I had been planning a vacation before all of this hurricane brouhaha. The trip was to take place the following weekend when Gustav suddenly forced my evacuation from New Orleans. Not only had I been forced to load up my essentials for the trip to Jacobs Camp in Utica and the eventual run to Memphis, but I also had the additional consideration of having to bring all of my clothes for a week-long cruise that started in Vancouver, British Columbia on September 6. I was probably the only evacuee from New Orleans who had his formal wear, cufflinks and patent leather shoes with him throughout the ordeal. When I was able to return home, I only had a little over 24 hours to repack and make certain that I was truly prepared for the trip of a lifetime to Alaska. Yes, Alaska, the largest state in the union and the one that remains the most untamed, brutal and awe-inspiring site that one can imagine. This was a pleasure cruise and one that paled in comparison to the harsh conditions endured by thousands who first came to Alaska in search of gold during 1898. For a boy from the flat Mississippi delta lands to see the wonders of majestic snow-capped peaks towering thousands of feet in the air was breathtaking. For someone accustomed to seeing alligators swimming along bayous to see humpback whales and orcas in their native environments was impressive. Over the course of the next few days I will be recounting my travels along Alaska's Inner Passage aboard the Holland America ship M/S Volendam. Despite all of the many wonders and pleasures I endured on this vacation, it was all tempered by the thoughts of those back home who had just endured Gustav and who were hoping to avoid the new storm as well as those in the direct path of Hurricane Ike.

Another whalechaser

A humpback whale in a characteristic salute to whalechasers.

Part of dealing with the wonderful blogosphere is that one meets a world of people online who would probably never cross paths in real life. I have gotten to know a fellow blogger, who goes by the name Whalechaser. Her blog is called Whalechaser's Musings and is filled with a number of sometimes hilarious and oftentimes very well-written pieces. I find it incredible that she goes by the nickname of Whalechaser since that's exactly what I've been doing for the last several days. More on this later. Thought I'd post a picture I took the other day just for you (and her) to enjoy.