Iceberg Capture, Juneau Porcupine, and Ketchikan Sketch
I’ve bored myself into paralysis. If I continued writing a post for each of the remaining three days of this cruise, I would have to fire myself from ever writing again.
In order to move on from this stubborn resistance to my own words, I will resort to my favorite lazy writer’s trope, the bullet list. Here are highlights of the last three days of the Plague Cruise:
IT WAS A DARK AND STORMY NIGHT. Seriously.
ICEBERG CAPTURE. As we headed into Glacier Alley where cruise ships go to wow the passengers with views of glaciers calving into the sea, the weather was still rough, rainy, and misty. The captain did not feel comfortable taking the ship further up the strait, so instead he sent his minions overboard into a small rescue-style boat to capture a small iceberg in a net and haul it onto the deck for the passengers to touch and photograph. No, really. A small iceberg was our consolation prize. The 3-stooges-style capturing maneuver was performed under our balcony, which was highly entertaining.
Our intrepid crew out in the icy, icy strait capturing an iceberg for the passengers. A better bet to endanger these five guys than the whole cruise ship, I guess?
I DID NOT TOUCH THE GLACIER. I did not see a bear and I did not touch a glacier. At our stop in Juneau, we visited Mendenhall Glacier, where we were only able to hike to a waterfall that was sort of near the glacier. Fifty years ago, we would have been able to touch the glacier, but it has receded quite a bit and is now on the other side of a glacier-fed lake. I lamely pretended to touch it in a photo.
Does this count?
WHY DID THE PORCUPINE CROSS THE ROAD? I don’t know, but I watched it go (here is a link to the Instagram video of a porcupine lumbering across the road). I also saw several others resting in trees. Did you know they like to climb and chill in trees? Me neither.
Here’s a poor image of a porcupine in a tree.
IT’S SKETCHY IN KETCHY. Ketchikan was everything a remote fishing village ought to be. An attempt has been made to polish the downtown and present a fresh face to tourists, but a peek behind the facade reveals a grimy fishing village with a sketchy underbelly that makes you want to read a noir crime novel. I liked it.
Ketchikan is a little gritty but I can imagine living here. I would own many sweaters.
HOPKINS ALLEY. I was born Janice Hopkins. The Hopkins side of the family were Welsh tin workers - poor, but not so poor that they didn’t hop a freighter at the turn of the 20th century to look for a better future, only to find themselves working at a tin plating mill in Indiana. So it’s fitting that the last bit of old, wooden Ketchikan is a small, janky wooden dock-street, precariously lashed to pilings, is named Hopkins Alley. I liked it.
That dock-style wooden road to the right? That’s Hopkins Alley. Must be nice.
IN CONCLUSION.
A cruise is a great introduction to an area, but it can be a frustrating one. If you find that you really like the areas that you visit, that small amount of time allowed at each port of call is not enough to really enjoy or learn about a place. However, if you just want a taste of a place and what you REALLY like is being on a boat, eating at restaurants and having servants, a cruise is for you.
We will go back to Alaska, but we will be on the ground. Oh Sketchy Ketchikan, I WILL be back.
Thanks for sharing our cruise with us. Nighty-night.