Woke up feeling pretty much as good as ever (no comments on that, okay?) and ready for our last two days of our cruise. We were scheduled to sail up Tracy Arm (a 20 mile long fjord) this morning to South Sawyer Glacier, but reports on the ice pack still in place that would keep us some distance from it and the fact we’d seen some pretty spectacular glacier already nixxed that. Instead, the captain has promised us whales. That’s the one thing the majority of passengers haven’t seen yet. So, until we have to turn for Juneau to make our excursion times for the Mendenhall Glacier and Alaskan Salmon Bake, we are going on a whale hunt.
And we all have absolute faith in our captain. So far, he has delivered every sight he promised. Well, there was the missing lighthouse, but we won’t count that.
Between sightings, we used the time to pack nonessentials and hear the “Disembarkation Talk.” Seems they don’t want any of us losing our luggage or missing our airline connections on Saturday. Passengers left behind are probably either turned out on the ice floes or sold as worker bees to the big cruise ships. Couldn’t let you stay on the Empress, even having to work on her might be too much fun.
Did I say between sightings? Yes, our captain made good on his promise. We found several humpback whales. We joked the crew lured them with the missing swordfish dinner. Didn’t see a breach, but lots of “spy-bopping” (just poking their heads above water again and again to sneak a peek); that movement where they sort of do a shallow, gliding dive with their back arcing above the water; and of course, fluking—that well recognized tail action. Gosh, but they are glorious and graceful creatures. A fitting addition to the over thirty species of mammals and birds we’ve seen in the wild on our trip.
We arrived in Alaska’s capital city about 2:00 PM. Talk about a city walled in by mountains. And it’s right smack in the middle of the Tongass National Forest as well. It fronts Gastineau Channel—which looked like a big mud flat in many places when the tide was out. Across the channel is Douglas, another mining town during the Gold Rush until cave-ins flooded the tunnels. It’s also the better place to live according to one of our bus drivers. And some years back they even put in the one bridge between Douglas and Juneau, making it a bit more convenient.
Course, there aren’t many roads here anyway. I may have my facts confused, but I think we were told the only major (4-lane) highway is about 40 miles long from one end to the other. According to our excursion bus driver, you can’t get arrested for grand theft auto here, just joy riding. Seems you have to take an auto over 100 miles away for it to qualify as grand theft.
Like most of the cities we’ve visited on this trip, Juneau has a colorful Gold Rush Era history. In fact, the hillsides directly behind the city are honeycombed with miles and miles of mining tunnels. Nowadays, its gold is the tourist industry. The whole section of town by the cruise ship docks is a collection of shops, cafes, a few taverns, and a tram-ride (an expensive little side trip we passed on) all catering to the thousands of visitors who overrun this place during the summer months. We did do a bit of sightseeing and a bit of shopping (got a couple of cute Alaskan themed Christmas ornaments) before our excursion, but not for long. We mostly walked and looked.
(Author’s Note: One thing I noticed while walking in and out of shops was the atitude of some salespeople. While most were very friendly and helpful, I had to laugh at the snooty/suspicious ones in the higher end shops with fine jewelry and furs. Guess Hubby and I didn’t look like big spenders, just lookie-lou’s wasting their time. Or maybe possible thieves.) 4:00 PM found us boarding buses to head out on our included shore excursions. We got a young driver this trip. He was a nice enough young man, but I think maybe he was fairly new and nervous at his job. He knew the patter, but had this giggly laugh after everything he said that unfortunately grew to annoy me after awhile. I tried to treat it like white noise and that helped. Arriving at Mendenhall Glacier’s Visitors’ Center made putting up with “Giggles” worth the minor annoyance. Though the glacier can be seen in the background from points all over the Juneau area, getting within about a half mile of its rugged, blue, 100 foot high face is a different matter entirely. Magnificent barely begins to describe any of these giant rivers of ice we have been privileged to see.
From the viewpoint, we walked back to the Visitors’ Center where we watched a short film about the glacier and looked through the exhibits. Our new friends from New Hampshire had visited Mendenhall Glacier about a decade ago. The Visitors’ Center wasn’t in existence then. In fact, the glacier itself was either up to the point or just a short distance away. In other words, half to two-thirds closer than it is nowadays. The magnificent waterfall to the right of the glacier ran over and down through part of it then. Earlier on our walk to the viewpoint overlooking Mendenhall Lake, we saw rocks the size of cars and trucks that were once under the glacier and had been hollowed/scooped out by this waterfall.
Looking at the historical data, it’s amazing how rapidly these ice rivers can retreat and advance. There are currently glaciers in both categories, though we rarely hear about the advancing ones. And, yes, weather patterns do have a great deal to do with that. (Author’s Note: However, I appreciated the fact all the rangers here and other places we visited tried to give us unbiased facts rather than opening that can of worms debate on whether current weather patterns are due to global warming or to just the natural, long-term cycle of those patterns. I won’t get into that debate right now either.)
Dinner on our final evening was a special treat. Leaving Mendenhall Glacier, our buses wound back through the out-lying areas of Juneau, turned into a small industrial park, and then turned again just past the transit yard where our buses originate. Tucked into the hillside and screened by trees and shrubbery from its suburban surroundings is a small, private park, home to a company that puts on an authentic Alaskan Salmon Bake. Well, at least the cooking method—grilling over a wood fire with lots of yummy seasonings and brown sugar based BBQ sauce—is probably authentic. The rest of the meal is set up on outside buffet carts and includes green salad, coleslaw, beans, rice, delicious cornbread, BBQ’d ribs and chicken. Blueberry cake for dessert. Helping to keep the place tidy and crumb free were a pair of mallard ducks and an assortment of ravens. A musician/folksinger also provided entertainment.
After stuffing ourselves, Gary took a tour of the grounds to see the waterfall and old mining equipment while I opted to visit with the new friends we would soon be parted from. (Author’s Note: I know how tired and a bit low-spirited (grumpy?) I was feeling, and I could see or sense those same feelings in many of the other passengers. As much as we all enjoyed our journey and each other’s company, perhaps we were all experiencing minor “cabin fever” from spending so much time and space with the same 200 people for over a week and a half. Everyone seemed a bit relieved to be heading home on Saturday.)
Because our excursion ran so late in the day, our seating for the evening’s shipboard entertainment wasn’t until after 9:00 PM. With some packing, farewell notes, and other last minute miscellaneous things to finish, I didn’t go down for the final show. Hubby did and said I would have enjoyed it as it was my kind of music. The performer’s were “Up Country,” a Portland, Oregon based country and western group.
Finding myself with very mixed emotions about the end of our trip as I write this. Sad to see it end; sadder yet to say goodbye to friends we were just getting to know. We all promised to stay in touch, but. . . . Maybe I’m just a bit homesick, too. And ready to sleep in my own bed.
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