Last Post

The Internet connection is slow and I’ve tried to make efficient use of my time online. I’m almost out of minutes, so I’ll save a few to check flights tomorrow morning.

Today we lost an hour, as we moved back into the Pacific time zone, so we were a little late starting our day. After breakfast, we walked around the ship and saw the breathtaking view of hundreds of dolphins diving in the wake of the ship. It was a stunning sight, my biggest thrill of the week.

We’re about 15 miles off the coast of British Columbia now, moving slowly through heavy fog that suddenly enveloped us after a morning and early afternoon of sunshine. We will be in Victoria by 9 PM, but cannot disembark because of some kind of “thruster bearing” problem that I had read about before we left – a comment from a disgruntled Norwegian Pearl customer who felt cheated by missing a port. I on the other hand, am somewhat “ported” out and don’t mind staying onboard.

A day in Seattle tomorrow, and then back home in the early evening. It’s been a great week!

Entertainment

I swam in the Tahitian Pool on Friday afternoon, only my third dip since the cruise began. It was a cold afternoon and the waves sloshed across the top of the pool, splashing water into the inner tiled pool “container”, a few feet below the pool deck area. Steam rose from the heated water, where I was the only swimmer for about 20 minutes, until a few others joined me – briefly. The hot tubs had a few takers, though, all drinking beer, sold in buckets the rate of six for the price of five.

We had an early dinner, seated in the stern of the Summer Palace. Earlier in the week, I got the picture on how to buy wine. An unfinished bottle is corked, for later retrieval from a wine cellar that serves all the restaurants. We (mostly I) had a Chilean merlot for two evenings; yesterday I selected my old standby Beringer white zinfandel, to be polished off for our last dinner tonight.
After dinner, went to the Stardust Theater for Bob’s favorite dance review, Sealegs. It was pretty much the same show we had seen in the Caribbean last March, and very enjoyable. Great costumes, excellent dancing, live singing. The cast included performers from Texas, Oklahoma, New York, Nebraska, France, England, Australia, the Ukraine (the same gymnast/dancers we saw the other night).

After the main show, Simon your Cruise Director called many of the ship’s crew onto the stage, where they got a standing ovation from the audience, to the live sound of We are Family. The whole spectacle was quite riveting and emotional.

We’ve become aware of the crew community, somewhat divided along national lines. Over 1,100 crew members from 65 countries serve the ship. For some, this is the last voyage as the Norwegian Pearl completes its last Alaska voyage of the season. A lovely young woman from India told us happily that we would be flying home from Seattle to be with her parents. Others will be taking a vacation after 10 months, 7 days a week without a day off. It seems like a hard life.

Ketchikan

Excursions in Ketchikan had to be booked yesterday, but when we discovered that we would have to be off the ship by 7 AM, Bob suggested that we explore on our own and forego the tour of the town by bus, and a boat tour, once again suggesting abundant wildlife. Because the city prides itself on being the rain capital of Alaska, I agreed to a self guided visit.

How wise the decision proved to be! We awoke early enough to watch the ship maneuver its way into port, where the Westerdam was already ahead of us. Two coast guard boats armed with very visible machine guns scoured the harbor for whatever, or whoever, they look for when a ship is docking. We ate breakfast in the Garden Café in the stern, quite comfortable dressed only in our jeans and sweatshirts.
Off the ship at about 9:25. We stopped at the Visitors’ Center, where Bob asked Latu, the host, for a suggestion on how to spend our time in Ketchikan. He immediately recommended a visit to Creek Street, where spawning salmon “in the thousands” were swimming upriver to spawn. Latu was not exaggerating. The sight was unlike any I ever expect to see again in my lifetime.
As we learned at the Macauley Hatchery on Tuesday, salmon return to their origin to spawn. The Ketchikan salmon were climbing the fish ladder, reminding me of the only time I’ve ever seen fish trying to swim up the apron at the Corps of Engineers Lock & Dam in St. Paul – that was at least a decade ago, and I still wonder what kind of fish they were.

Here in Ketchikan, some of the salmon were trapped early in small tidal inlets, where they died. Others made it a little farther up the stream, where many more got caught in branches and rocks, and died from exhaustion or injury. The smell is very strong and somewhat unpleasant; with dead fish everywhere, it is not a sight for those who prefer their salmon fresh from the ocean, presented artfully on a dinner plate.

For us, the sight was remarkable. Our walking tour led us back down the hill to the souvenir shops, where Wells Fargo delivered some cash and we looked through the Alaska merchandise. Not being very good shoppers, we soon returned to the ship, among the few passengers without heavy plastic bags of merchandise.

Bob bought popcorn at a stand, where a handmade sign announced that the shop would be closing for the season tomorrow. Bob asked the woman who served us what she does in the winter. “Oh, we nurture the friendships we don’t have time for in the summer”, she said. Sounds like a plan.

Visual Gluttony

The day on Glacier Bay left me visually overstimulated, greedily craving more ice, yet another inlet, a few more orcas. My eyes continued to scan the water, the shoreline and the sky, reluctant to miss a photo opportunity, real or virtual. The waterscapes of the Alaskan Inside Passage are burned into my mind. It is unlikely that I will pass this way again, and I don’t want to forget the sights.

I am the Miss Piggy of the Inside Passage. Give me postcards to look at and savor.

Glacier Bay

This is a national park, and our visit has been partly narrated by a park ranger who boarded the boat along with two other rangers early this morning. We’ve been watching the breathtaking views since 6 AM, from our stateroom balcony and, in fact, all over the ship, from different vantage points. My hands are still chilly. I have warm clothes, including the outer layer of my winter jacket, but I forgot gloves. A mistake. For an hour or so late this morning, it was actually warm because the sun was hot, but otherwise the air is cold and damp. However, we’ve been told more than once that this is some of the best weather all summer.

There’s nothing quite like the opaque blue of the ice; now I can visualize the color “glacial blue”. Bob says this is the most awesome scenery he’s ever experienced. My own enjoyment is tempered by a little guilt, as I reflect on the carbon footprint left by this cruise ship and its passengers. The earth has lost about 90% of its glacier ice, said the ranger.

After we left the area with glacial ice, we headed out into the fog, cruising toward Ketchikan. We came back to our stateroom to warm up after lunch; I have seen more marine life in the last half hour than in the entire time we’ve been at sea. I had a brief glimpse of an orca as it dived, and the tailfins of three porpoises, off the bow of one of the park rangers’ boats. The hills are lower now, and dense with evergreens above the rocky beaches. It isn’t yet 4 PM, but dusk seems to be creeping in, a herald of the long fall evenings ahead.

Norwegians and Others

Passengers on the Norwegian Pearl are Americans, mostly, from all over the country. Some are very elderly and frail, and the River Styx flows ever closer. Others seem unaccustomed to travel, and, in my imagination, are the winners of a Cruise of a Lifetime contest in some small Appalachian community. The few younger passengers are mostly with family groups. There are some very good eaters among our fellow travelers; I check the mirror for new bulges.

The crew are a diverse lot. The captain is Swedish, replacing the Norwegian of our cruise earlier this yeara. A few Canadians wave the maple leaf rather aggressively, in the manner of those who have been mistaken for Americans – a Canadian officer whose next ship will be the Norwegian Jewel in Quebec City, Matt the bingo king, a few others. All the eastern Europeans sound like Russians. The influence of Simon, your cruise director, is everywhere. He is an extroverted Australian who speaks in superlatives that also color the vocabulary of crew members whose mother tongue is not English. “Smashing”, “stupendous”, “outstanding”, “splendid”: favorite words of the young Romanian man who sold me Russian icons in the gift shop. His exuberance deflated when I noted that he is a long way from home and I instantly regretted evoking the homesickness that must be acute among some of these workers.

Many are from the Philippines, almost all cheerful, gracious and elegant. The ship could not sail without them.

Skagway

The late 90s – I mean the 1890s – are important in the history of this remote Alaskan town. The Gold Rush, the building of the railroad, prospecting, mining. Today, tourism. We rode the Whitepass Railway for three and a half glorious hours that did get a little long for me, as I tired of the stories of the poor pack animals that died here, along with early settlers who succumbed from a variety of ailments, including scurvy. I had a hard time making the human connection, sitting in this old railway car with well fed tourists.

The scenery was spectacular, way up the mountain on narrow track rails. Snow capped mountains in the fog. Rushing waterfalls. Green mountain lakes. Red fall berries. Tall forests of evergreens: spruce, balsam, cedar, fir. The day was filled with sun, the first in many days. When we reached the end of the track (for us!), we were at nearly 3,000 feet above sea level. I enjoyed leaning out of the train, feeling daring as I contemplated the treacherous cliff below, just off the edge of the track. I was glad the trees growing in the rock above our heads seemed to be as well rooted as they could be, under the circumstances.

The air grew cold before we headed back down the mountain, somewhere around Fraser, British Columbia. By the time we returned to Skagway, we were too weary to brave the touristy shops. I had hoped to browse through Istanbul Rugs, wondering about the route from Turkey to Alaska. However, my curiosity was not as strong as my fatigue, and we returned to the ship. After a great dinner at the French Le Bistro, we watched our departure from the dock. We were third in a line of three brightly lighted ships moving through the darkness, some of the last to visit Skagway until next May.

Juneau - Unique Capital City

I thought about other state or provincial capital cities as we sat on our balcony during the approach to Juneau – St. Paul, Sacramento, St. John’s, Quebec City, Toronto, Victoria … all ports, but so different from Juneau. It is the one state capital accessible only by air or water, and residents seem to be proud of its remoteness and isolation. Juneau looked like a small maritime town, plunked expectantly in the middle of nowhere, dependent on government and tourist dollars for its survival.

The morning was cold, foggy and wet, so I packed my shore bag accordingly. We docked right on schedule at 2:00 PM, after the sister ship Norwegian Sun pulled away. There were two other cruise ships in port, the Diamond Princess and a Celebrity Cruiselines vessel. By the time we got off the ship, the sky had cleared and we were told that the weather had not been this good for a month … so we felt very fortunate.

Our bus driver, Mark, had a dry sense of humor that included a reference to John McCain as Governor Sarah Palin’s running mate. According to Mark, Governor Palin is the most popular governor in the history of Alaska, with approval ratings in the 90s. I haven’t verified this statistic yet. We weaved through the town on a very old bus that was too large to get to the top of the hill, where I would have seen the Capitol. If the rain hadn’t started to come down, and with a little more time, I would have walked there. Because of the fog, we passed on the Mount Roberts Tramway ride up the mountain. All air excursions were cancelled, so there was no opportunity to visit the Juneau Icefield by air.

The first stop was Macauley Salmon Hatchery, where the main amusement was provided by a pair of harbor seals fishing for salmon. They looked like big puppies working as a team, diving and surfacing in tandem, very aware of their audience. They had done this before!

The main attraction was the Mendenhall Glacier, a spectacular mountain of ice breaking off and melting into the lake at its base. Big blue chunks of the glacier float in the lake. The fall colors I had been hoping for were somewhat in evidence, but the main color is from evergreen forests, accentuated by blotches of gold and brown and brilliant red berries. The grey sky and veil of mist painted a haze over the scene, adding to its beauty.

The U.S. Forest Service ranger, Doug Jones, answered questions about the glacier, now receding at an ever accelerating rate. A film, not too long at 11 minutes, gave an overview of the history of the icefields in Alaska, and the Mendenhall Glacier in particular. The impact of global warming, and the role played by human activities, was suggested, not preached.

After the bus tour, we made the requisite stop at the Red Dog Saloon, where we spent a very pleasant hour with a British couple on another ship, the diamond Princess. They were on a long voyage to Anchorage, Vladivostok and Beijing, one of many cruises they have experienced all over the world. Enjoyed a couple of pints of Alaskan Amber brew, and headed back to the ship on a shuttle bus. By now, the rain was pelting down and we were happy to board the Pearl.

The martini tasted even better than expected, as did our light dinner. We sailed before our scheduled departure time of 10 PM, so quietly that we missed watching the ship pull away from the dock.

Helicopter Evacuation

We finished Monday evening dinner at the Summer Palace, inspired by the décor of the 19th century palaces of the Czars, and then attended an entertaining dance program featuring two gymnasts who performed with the dance troupe we saw last cruise, this time in geisha costumes.
We had heard at dinner of an evacuation by helicopter of one of our passengers planned for 8 PM, so we went out on the deck to see what we could – not really much at all, since most of the front section of the ship had been cordoned off. We did hear the helicopter hovering, though, three separate times. We imagined the rescue basket being dropped, loaded and lifted to the craft above.

The operation seemed to go off without a hitch, and we soon saw the helicopter flying under a full moon toward the coast. No more news yet, but it seemed like a very unfortunate start to a vacation.

North to Alaska

The afternoon was beautiful after the fog burned off. We saw rocky, green land, with the occasional fishing boat in one of the many coves. The sun shone deep into the clear blue water. The Pearl moved along at 19.8 knots through calm waters, with the swish of the water the only sound, occasionally punctuated with an announcement from the captain. We didn’t see the whales “off the bow”. As a matter of fact, the only creatures much in evidence were sea gulls on the rocks.

I had pictured myself afraid that the salmon would be jumping on our balcony, and that bears would be sunning themselves on the shore as we passed by. Perhaps elk and moose drinking from a mountain stream, and Orcas performing for delighted passengers. What was I thinking? I am told that wildlife sightings may still be a thrill to look forward to.

Drinking and Gambling

We attended a welcome party for repeat cruisers on NCL so we skipped lunch, correctly anticipating refreshments at the “Meet the Crew” party at 1:15 on Monday. We dipped into the free beer and wine and a few mediocre but welcome appetizers. I won a set of 24 Bingo cards, thereby enticing us back to the Spinnaker bar later on in the afternoon. By the time we got back, the bar was packed with drinkers and folks frantically opening pulltabs. Felling lucky and stupid, I bought $20 of pulltabs and raffle tickets myself.

We did not win at Bingo, and, in fact, it took two of us to play six cards at a crack. We did not win the raffle for an upgrade to the penthouse. We took away $9.00 from the pulltabs, spent in the slot machines this morning. That’s it for gambling, but I think we may still imbibe a little. I had wine at dinner both evenings, and it tasted pretty good.

Geology for Dummies

A little geology – or even “earth science” would come in handy for anyone who’s sat outside on the balcony as much as I have in the last day. Some art history would be beneficial too. Too bad I don’t have that education, so my reflections are fanciful at best.

The coastline has changed from the green hills of Seattle to low chunks of hill carved out in perpendicular chops, and then, this morning, to jagged, layered peaks with tundra like vegetation growing out of some of them. The gray, blue and black gradations of rock reminded me of some of the art of the Pacific northwest that I’ve seen in museums or books. I see now that the art is more realistic than impressionistic.

This morning I was on the balcony well before sunrise, hoping to see some early morning fishing by frolicking sea creatures but there was only one boat in the distance. The sun rose suddenly out of a break in the rock, and soon the sky was filled with golden light reflected in the water. Steam hung low in the crevices, disturbed every now and then by wind, as if suddenly released from some force holding it down. In the narrower crevasses, the fog rose like smoke signals for some unseen sentinel, waiting for a message.

Goodbye Seattle

Didn’t get much sleep last night – too much coffee and excitement. I did a really stupid thing when I got out of the shower. I absent-mindedly spread what I thought was moisturizer on my face before I got dressed and wondered why it felt so sticky. It didn’t dawn on me until we were having coffee at Starbucks that I had smeared liquid hand soap all over my cheeks and lips, resulting in red, dry skin that felt absolutely terrible. And the smell. I can’t believe I was so stupid, especially since I had been using that hand soap since Friday. I haven’t confessed this to Bob yet, as I just don’t have the energy.

We saw our ship at the dock before 8 AM, only a few blocks away from the condo. We decided to walk to the pier rather than take a cab, a great relief to me since I hate hoisting the suitcase into the trunk of a car. The boarding process was simple and efficient, and we were soon onboard with a flute of champagne, sitting in restaurant on Deck 12, in the bow of the ship. It was very hot, and the port of Seattle glittered under the unseasonably hot sun. Life doesn’t get much better than this.

We were in our stateroom before 2:00 PM, and our luggage arrived 30 minutes later. I enjoyed watching the containers of suitcases hoisted up to the right decks for delivery to passengers. All very systematic and fast. We left port right on time at 4:00 PM, and soon Seattle and Mount Rainier faded in the distance. After being too hot most of the weekend, we were suddenly cold, grateful for fleece. We’ve been inside now for 20 minutes or so, and have about half an hour to kill before dinner at Cagney’s – shrimp, steak, lobster …

We are moving steadily along the coast and twilight is starting to suggest its presence. It’s been a lovely day so far.

Homeless in Seattle

In 1993 I visited California for the first time, attending the annual gathering of the National Conference of State Legislatures (NCSL) in San Diego. As I unpacked my bags a luxury room at a large, expensive hotel, I was shocked to see homeless people laying down their makeshift bed linens in the beautiful park across the street. I was so sheltered from the reality of poverty in America that it took me several minutes before I realized that these men -- and they were, I think, all male -- were bedding down at 4 PM to get the best spots on the grass, seeking shelter under large trees, in areas protected from sand and wind. I worked the problem around in my head, knowing that homelessness existed in Minnesota, too. But in Minnesota, those who are homeless are invisible for much of the year, evident only to those who know the spots under bridges or in makeshift camps far away from my neighborhood.

Seattle seems so prosperous. The people are cheerful, friendly and full of hope for the future. The homeless are here, though. I saw them yesterday evening, furtively hiding in doorways and in alleys. This morning, they were wandering the streets when I headed out for coffee at about 6:30. Today, a man who reeked of cigarette smoke approached us at a bus stop. I am used to ignoring people who accost me on the street. On some level, I really don't know what to do or how to act. If I have bills in my pocket and can drop a dollar or two in a can, I feel I've gotten off easy. If I have to open my purse or my wallet, I'm usually too cautious to do so and will regretfully and guiltily pass by.

Today was so hot and now the evening is quite chilly. I wonder where the homeless are tonight as we try to find the right temperature (not too hot, not too cold) for our comfy little abode.

The Space Needle

By the time we left the pier, I was getting a little testy and Bob was tired of walking. so we hopped a bus headed in the general direction of the Space Needle. We were in the "ride free" zone in downtown Seattle, so we didn't need a free day pass a bus driver had given to use earlier in the day when Bob asked for directions. She let us off at Bell Street, about 6 long blocks from our temporary home, and we took the elevator up a few flights to shorten the walk to 1st Avenue, for yet another bus.

We had a fairly long walk after getting off the bus at Seattle Center, and by now it was quite hot. The jackets that had been so welcome earlier in the day were now an unwelcome burden. The walk to the Space Needle was actually very pleasant, and I quite enjoyed the little summer festival just outside the ramp to the tower.

Mount Rainier is visible about 60 days of the year, and this is one of them. I think you can see it in this picture, in the distance, covered with snow. Expected to blow ... apparently ... sometime in the next two weeks to two thousand years. Spectacular.

My favorite view is of one of the lakes, full of watercraft. Fun to watch float planes land, one after another, looking as though they're headed straight for one of the boats in the water. However, at about 600 feet, it's hard to tell. I love heights, but I did feel a little queasy for awhile. Bob asked the elevator operator, and she said that the tower moved an inch for every 10 mph of wind. Today, that was about an inch!

We took a cab back to the condo. I felt a little sulky, because I had wanted to go to Mass today, or, failing that, I was pining for a ride on the monorail. I was overruled, and have been happily writing ever since.

It is so lovely here. We saw the Norwegian Sun leave port a little while ago, right on time. Our ship, the Norwegian Pearl, arrives in at the Bell Street Terminal tomorrow at 8 AM. We'll see the Pearl from the deck before we leave. Because the day promises to be hot once again, we'll pack our swimsuits in hand luggage in case our stateroom isn't ready until later in the afternoon.

Harbor Tour

This is a shot of the Seattle skyline from the Royal Argosy. Visibility was perfect by the time we boarded the tour boat at about noon. The downtown area lacks the shabbiness of many city centers, thanks to Microsoft, our cab driver told us yesterday. We enjoyed all the sights, especially the raft of California sea lions performing for tourists.

After the tour, we were ravenous and had lunch at "The Fisherman", where we had a beautiful view of the harbor and a pretty good lunch. Fish and chips for Bob, chowder and Caesar salad for me. After lunch, we were treated to a Native American celebration of Salmon Homecoming 2008, with many dance competitions featuring performers of all ages, in beautiful costumes.

Pike Place Market

Our 1986 visit to Seattle did not include the Pike Place Market, so we were looking forward to the market experience when we arrived shortly after 9 AM. We were reminded of Atwater Market in Montreal, but this place is bigger, louder, altogether bolder. The smells were a little too powerful for me: late summer flowers, ripe fruit, soaps and "essences", cheeses, spices, cured meats and poultry and, of course, fish and shellfish of every kind. Alaskan King Salmon is everywhere. At one famous fishmonger's shop, the fish is tossed after purchase to a butcher, who then fillets it for the crowd. Lots of action for many cameras.

It was fairly chilly so close to the water, so we stopped for coffee and a danish pastry while we looked at our map. We were tempted to buy the peaches we tasted (best ever) but the prospect of trotting around with the extra weight deterred us, and we moved on. We descended several flights of stairs and an elevator to Alaskan Way, crossed the street and explored one of the many piers along Puget sound.

Belltown

Seattle is not the city we visited two decades ago. My winter ("Alaska") weight jeans were much too heavy in the late summer heat, at the beginning of what weather reporters are calling the last weekend of summer. Our cab driver told us that it is rare to see dead grass in Seattle, but the landscape seemed very parched as we drove north from the airport to our Belltown condo. He used a GPS to find the coordinates of our building -- in retrospect, it seemed to me that the location is rather simple and he should have known it. No matter.

We had no problems getting into the building, as we did in Miami. The condo was open and all the keys worked. We have beautiful view of Puget Sound and the city from decks on the 7th floor; we're a little disappointed with our street view, and related street noise, but the condo itself is comfortable, newly decorated and, perhaps most important, well plumbed.

We walked a little outside, finding a Starbucks and many restaurants. We settled on "La vita e bella", an Italian establishment in our building. Because the street is noisy, we sat inside, at the window so we could see the action outside. We were tired and wanted a light meal, so we ordered Caesar salad (mine, but so large that Bob had some too) and thin crust pizza, with sausage, broccoli and great tomato sauce. Splurged on a Sicilian cream filled cannelloni dessert.

We intended to watch the Sarah Palin interview but I knew I was done for when I lay down ... just to rest. Bob soon followed. I awoke early but figured that I just couldn't get up at 3 AM, so went back to sleep. I went out for coffee in the dark, and was easily distinguishable from the natives -- I was in t-shirt & shorts, they all had long pants, jackets and hats!

The day promises to be sunny and hot. I'm looking forward to great views from the Space Needle.