Cruise north to Alaska - for safety and excitement!
MAKING a decision about your next vacation will definitely be more challenging than usual. You want an exciting destination but certainly a safe one as well. Which unfortunately eliminates some of the places probably on your dream wish list. But it leaves some wondrous ones as well. If asked to select a dozen of the world's most dramatic destinations, Alaska would be very much a part of my list.
It seems to have everything... Superb scenery, colourful frontier history, excellent accommodations and a list of stellar attractions longer than your arm.
How to see it all? Impossible in one trip. As reported here before, I started cruising there as a youngster with my adventure-minded parents in 1954 when only three ships visited Alaska . . . those of the Canadian National and Canadian Pacific lines. Although I don't remember as many details of that first trip as I'd like, dramatically vivid memories that remain are very special treasures.
In years since, my returns to Alaska have been so numerous, I've lost count. And although I've flown to remote corners of the state like Point Barrow, taken the long-haul route to Prudhoe Bay, driven into the Yukon Territory by way of Kluane National Park, bush planed off in many wilderness directions and enjoyed back-roads to isolated wonders . . . much remains to be seen . . . and reseen.
Best introduction to what Alaskans call "The Great Land" remains a cruise and we will cover the tempting variety available later in this series. First we'll take readers to some of the most exciting ports of call, destinations that may help them choose a particular cruise itinerary.
That list of available ships could increase if the world situation changes and lines rush to alter itineraries moving there from places like the Mediterranean, Baltic, Asia, etc. I've already received press releases covering such major itinerary alterations and I'm writing this in late February.
For many travellers, their trip will begin or end in Anchorage since the majority of cruises operate on a sort of revolving schedule. Those that depart from Seattle or Vancouver often terminate in Seward, then reverse their itinerary. Accessible Anchorage is thus gateway for many arrivals and departures.
That's what happened on my Alaska cruise last year. I flew nonstop to Anchorage in late August, spent a few days there, then drove down to Seward to board Radisson Seven Seas Navigator for one week.
This had originally been planned as what became known as "our birthday trip", celebrated by myself and the late Tourism Minister David Allen. For years we'd used our birthdays as an excuse to explore some off-trail corner of the world. This tradition dated back to our early travel writing days, almost always to the sort of remote, conversation-stopping kind of places we both found fascinating.
Our intent this time was to spend ten days driving out to Kenai Peninsula, using it as a launching pad into Kenai Fjords National park and investigating possibilities of going out to Dutch Harbour and beyond in the Aleutian islands, perhaps visiting the Pribolof Islands.
Possibility of flying to St. Lawrence Island, a great source of Inuit artifacts 40 miles from Siberia, was also being considered. These are destinations other adventure-minded travellers might also want to consider. All are unique in this hemisphere.
David stopped at Montreal en route to Anchorage, as planned, for more tests at Montreal General Hospital were he had earlier July tests. Our plans were altered when doctors kept him longer than anticipated, trying to diagnose the cause of his extremely elevated liver enzymes and mysterious weight loss.
For the first time in years, I observed my birthday at home, strangely without a call from David. It came the next day when he told me, "I didn't want to ruin your birthday with the bad news... They think it's some rare kind of cancer based on fluid taken from my stomach", he said. "But I'm going ahead with the inspection trip while they try and figure it out and decide on treatment."
An inspection of Radisson's Seven Seas Navigator was to have been our trip's finale. David had been involved in negotiations to bring the ship to Bermuda this summer and wanted a firsthand look. Because I've been on over 50 major ships in my lifetime, he felt my input had value. But before boarding, I insisted he call his doctor and listened as he asked, "Am I playing Russian Roulette by doing this?" When David reported to me the answer was "No, I don't think so", he felt confident proceeding.
The ship turned out to be really top drawer, one Bermudians will want to experience firsthand. The far-above-average comfort level of its accommodations, superior service and spaciousness are shared by only 490 passengers (only 420 on our sailing).
One of its many pluses was its exceptional medical facilities, something to be covered in a special future feature. For several years I've inspected those facilities on a variety of ships for such a roundup article. Availability of good medical treatment when travelling with potential health problems is important to many mature travellers.
Whether your personal trip begins or ends in Anchorage, you'll want to allow plenty of time for exploration. Your travel agent will have many suggestions for area day trips. And the colourful log cabin information centre in downtown Anchorage is also an excellent place to stop for personalised advice from local Alaskans.
Any reader who has taken the drive from Anchorage down to Seward knows the kind of panoramic scenery that waits. But dazzling as it seems oohing and aahing your way along the Cook Inlet and through the Chugach Mountains, this is just a hint of what's ahead.
With an increasing number of ships offering balconies, there's a natural tendency for passengers to settle into alounge chair and enjoy the luxury of their own private, away-from-the-world view... That's admittedly great when at sea or approaching one of the Caribbean islands or even some Alaska ports.
But the Inside Passage here is so spectacular that you should definitely go out on the main deck when the ship departs Seward. You are totally and completely surrounded by grandeur of mountain wilderness stretching off in every direction. As you stand there, neck aswivel trying to absorb it all, the word "breathtaking" gains new meaning... Particularly for mountain enthusiasts like this writer.
Words are simply inadequate to describe the scene. Neither Cinerama or an Imax theatre could possibly do it justice. . .and your camera, no matter how professional, will be unable to capture a setting so overwhelming that it does literally leave you speechless.
David had chosen to relax on his balcony, saying he felt tired from all the hospital tests. But when I saw sizable pieces of black soot, sometimes the size of a quarter, drifting down from the funnel across the aft deck, I went to my stateroom which was next door to his, leaned out over my balcony and told him about it.
I knew that soot would not be welcome in Bermuda and he'd want to have the company take corrective steps . . .which I'm sure they have since after coming out on deck with me and looking at it, he then arranged a meeting with the ship's engineer to discuss the problem.
That incident brought back memories of another long-ago West Indies cruise with my parents. It was the very early 1960s and we were bound for a winter stay in Jamaica where the climate favoured my father's bad heart. In those days it was easier to arrange such a lengthy stopover travelling via ship.
Wearing a very fashionable new pair of white trousers for the first time, he sat down on a cushioned deck chair beside my mother. When he got up, a massive piece of soot had made those trousers forever unwearable, because no cleaning shop was ever able to adequately remove it. In cruising's early days, this was a common occurrence which has happily disappeared.
Try and pick a ship itinerary that builds in ample cruising time. Yes, visiting interesting ports is exciting, but so is sailing up narrow inlets leading to this continent's most impressive glaciers. Second day out, our destination was Hubbard Glacier and if you've never observed one of those moving rivers of ice close up, you're in for a real treat.
As the ship manoeuvres in ever closer, you can actually hear the sound of the ice moving, cracking and often "calving" off in large chunks crashing into the water. There are times it actually sounds like thunder in the distance. You feel as though at the edge of the Arctic . . . and, of course, you are!
The smaller your ship, the closer it can manoeuvre. A few years ago my brother and I were on an Alaska Sightseeing Cruise that actually chipped ice from a frozen seaside waterfall to chill the champagne.
Radisson happily chose to serve welcome hot spiced wine on deck. Clouds were hanging low like a long stretched-out piece of cotton batten, the sky moody as befits this dramatic setting. As the ship sailed up Yakutat Bay approaching the massive glacier, great chunks of ice floes drifted past, many with harp seals hitching a ride.
It's quite the amazing sight and spellbound passengers line the rail as though on Shakleton's trip to Antarctica. Wrapped in steamer blankets, they're chilled but too transfixed by the spectacle to leave. Enhancing the experience are comments by a local Yakatut Tlingit, David Ramos, who lives here in the magic land of his ancestors.
His comments can be heard on the open deck as well as in-suite televisions. Later, there's an opportunity to meet him and hear an explanation of his native costume. I've experienced this a number of times, first at Point Barrow, and it's intriguing to learn how locals protect themselves from this harsh climate. Every shred of the animals they hunt are used to feed, house and clothe them. It's quite amazing, a look at a completely different lifestyle and culture lives in an area remote beyond imagination.
Hubbard Glacier begins its long tidewater journey 76 miles away on Canada's highest peak, Mt. Logan. It is this overwhelming vastness of Alaska that visitors find so entrancing. Consider these statistics for starters. Alaska is not only huge and wild, but incredibly underpopulated. Its total land area covers five hundred and ninety-one thousands square miles, that's double the size of Texas.
Yet just over six hundred thousand people live in a landscape that ranges from North America's highest peak (Denali - Mt. McKinley at 20,306 feet) to a forty-five thousands mile coastline. Mind boggling.
(Next week... My First Visit to Sitka)