The Benefit of Arriving First: Alaska

"Alaska is what happens when Willy Wonka and the witch from Hansel and Gretel elope, buy a place together upstate, renounce their sweet teeth, and turn into health fanatics." - Sloane Crosley

Pretty much every adult I met in Alaska came from somewhere else.  “I came for a visit, and here I am 20 years later….”  Now, I can understand that about Hawaii, but Alaska?

Truth be told, Alaska is a beautiful place. The glaciers we sailed around were stunning.  The snow-capped mountains were breathtaking.  The places where the sea meets the land, and where the valley meets the mountain, are sights to behold. The towns have a rugged charm (except for the ever-growing numbers of jewelry shops that have migrated from the Caribbean). 

Other than Dutch Harbor and Kodiak (discussed in my previous entry), the towns we visited see their populations explode during the day when the cruise ship season—lasting mid-May to late September—is on. At night, the ships sail and the towns go back to what they really are.

But to live there full time has to take a certain kind of person.  The winters are long and dark, and fishing, hunting, and oil are the main industries (other than tourism, during the season).  Conditions are harsh.  In Skagway, once the north winds blow in during winter, it can be nearly impossible to leave your house for a couple of weeks. But the payoff is fabulous—the aurora borealis is at its most spectacular at the end of one of these wind storms.

Isolation can be a problem.  Many towns are accessible only by boat or plane. Supplies can be scarce. Skagway has one grocery store, stocked from a barge that arrives from Seattle once a week, on Tuesdays.  By the time it gets there, perishables are already aging.  Lines form immediately, and by Thursday all perishables are gone.

Ours was the first cruise ship of the season, and in fact a couple of weeks ahead of when the next ship will arrive.  This made for a warm welcome in each port, and having the tourism area of the towns pretty much to ourselves. Many shops were not yet really open—they just put in a little stock to make us feel welcome.  And everyone seemed to go out of their way to welcome us. They made no bones about it—they won’t be feeling this warmly toward the cruise ship passengers later in the season.  But our ship was small compared to most they see, so our numbers manageable, and it had been a long (albeit less harsh than usual) winter.

My main activity in Skagway (other than to just stroll around town) was to take a trolley tour, driven and narrated by a woman who is among the “came to visit 20 years ago and stayed” contingent. Her stories were colorful, and she was filled with local trivia.  Skagway owes its existence to the Yukon gold rush, as it was the jumping-off point  for the prospectors to walk the Yukon trail.  Industries formed around serving them—most notably bars and hotels, most of which also were bordellos.  Among the fun facts we heard was that here was where Donald Trump’s grandfather started the family business—he opened and ran a hotel/bordello in Skagway.

We also visited Seward, a town reachable only by boat or plane.  It was a rainy day, but we ventured forth and were rewarded with multiple sightings of bald eagles, as well as a fabulous sea life center which did double duty as both an aquarium for visitors to see and a center for research on the sea life of the region. It is funded by Exxon, as part of the settlement for the Exxon Valdez oil spill some years ago.

The other two Alaska towns on our itinerary were Juneau and Ketchikan. Unfortunately, I did not get out at either because I had a bad cold, and the chilly and rainy conditions in both made venturing forth inadvisable. (Fortunately, the day in Skagway had been lovely, and the cold had not yet set in.)

But before Skagway were two spectacular days of sightseeing from the ship.  First, we sailed along Hubbard Glacier.  The day was cold but sunny, so much of it was spent on the deck, bundled up but happily taking in the beauty of the glacier and the thunderous sound of the glacier’s calving (pieces falling off).  Since we knew that the cruise would soon be coming to an end, it also was a time to mix and mingle with friends on the deck as we prepare to part company.  

The next day was a trip into Glacier Bay, where we sailed past one glacier after another. Alas, the weather was not so great this time.  Cold and rain kept us indoors in the observation lounge much of the time, wandering out only occasionally to get a better look or a photo.  We were fortunate to have two park rangers join the ship and give us an explanation of what we were seeing, answer questions, and help us spot wildlife in the water and on shore.  One ranger in particular was a notably compelling speaker, and her love for the area showed in every word she spoke.

And I learned a new term:   “bergie bits.”  They’re the little pieces of glacier that break off and float away, forming miniature icebergs in the bay.

I had cruised to Alaska twice before, and knew it to be a great trip.  This one stood out because of how early in the season it was, so that we got to see the area in a very different way. It was still winter, and the tourism machine was not really grinding it out yet, so there was a charm there that was not quite as evident on previous visits.  So we couldn’t go on a native canoe on this outing, or do some of the other activities that I’d enjoyed before.  

It was wonderful in a whole other way, and I’m glad I had the chance to do it.

Next up:  Journey’s end.