Sun Solo Alaska: Pictorial Journal/Review of Vancouver to Seward 5/30-6/6

[MaryKEllis]

Since you were traveling solo, did you ever go to the Solo Traveler's group? Is Gabby still in charge of that?

[3Fluffies]

Since you were traveling solo, did you ever go to the Solo Traveler's group? Is Gabby still in charge of that?

 

 

I only made it to the solo meetup on the first night. I don't recall the name of the woman who ran it.

[3Fluffies]

Friday, June 3: Skagway, Alaska

 

Today got off to a rather rough start, since my tour with Chilkoot Charters was supposed to gather at 7:20. I would be taking the White Pass & Yukon Route Railroad into Fraser, British Columbia, then boarding a bus into the Yukon for Caribou Crossing, where we’d be fed a barbecue lunch and take a dog cart ride, then return to Skagway on the bus.

 

All seemed well at first. I was up at six, we were docked around 6:45, and I was in line ten minutes later.

 

However, for whatever reason, they didn’t let us off the ship until after 7:30, which once again was an issue for those of us who had tours starting early. No explanation or updates were given by the crew the entire time. This snag was probably the biggest negative I experienced on what was otherwise great service from Norwegian. It seemed unnecessary - we at least should have been given updates.

 

Waiting got very stressful, though I was reassured once I called Chilkoot Charters, since the tour group told me that they and even the railroad itself would wait when a ship was late arriving, and the train wasn’t due to actually leave until 8 am. Still, I hustled once they let us out and didn’t get to enjoy the scenery around the pier like I usually did.

 

It was rainy with low clouds, and along with actually making my tour, I dearly hoped that the clouds would lift enough to actually see the tops of the peaks. I was pretty sure the mountains here were the highest I’d seen yet. We were a small group in the last carriage of our train, and could move around freely. The carriage was trimmed with wood that creaked and rattled a lot, but the ride was smooth.

 

 

Even so...the scenery. Ye gods, the scenery.

 

 

No amount of photographs can capture it. The train trip was fantastic. The guides on board gave us all kinds of detail on the landmarks we passed and great, colorful stories about Skagway's gold rush history.

 

Each train car was well-heated inside (there was actually a lit stove in our car - designed to look like wood or coal-burning stoves, though I assume it was gas), and there were platforms on each end for passengers to step outside for better pictures.

 

I had my jacket and gloves, and wished I’d brought my hat whenever I was on the open air platform taking pictures - it was quite cold up there! I frequently saw birds in the marshes on the summit, but we passed by too fast to identify them. Approaching the entrance into British Columbia, we were instructed to get our passports out and not take pictures of the Canadian customs agents coming aboard to check them.

 

The railroad goes on all the way to Carcross, but we were disembarking (is that the right word for leaving a train?) here to take a bus the remainder of the way on Klondike Highway.

 

As we pulled into Frasier, British Columbia for the Canadian border patrol to check passports, we were alongside a beautiful glacial lake – MOOSE! He had his back to us as he foraged near the water. We were supposed to be putting our cameras away, but instead everybody dove for the windows. My pictures probably resemble the average Bigfoot image, since he was some distance away, but unmistakable.

 

After our passports were cleared, we piled off the train and reunited with our driver for the remainder of the trip (he’d also shuttled us from the pier to the depot in Skagway).

 

The scenery grew even more beautiful (how was that even possible?) and before long we had our crown jewel: a mother black bear and two cubs foraging alongside the road. They weren’t at all concerned with the multiple tourist buses who stopped to check them out, our cameras clicking away from the windows. (There were the inevitable jokes that somebody should get off the bus to pet the bears, but fortunately there were no takers.) I got some great pictures. A few miles from our first photostop came a sudden one - thar's bars! A mother black bear and her two cubs were foraging right along the highway, completely unconcerned with us humans. A few minutes down we found a lone male bear sporting terrible facial injuries from a recent fight. He looked like he’d lost an eye and seemed edgy, so we moved on fairly quickly.

 

 

We stopped briefly in the tiny village of Carcross, the endpoint of the rail line, then went on to Caribou Crossing for our barbecue lunch and dog cart excursion.

 

The story goes that the owners of Caribou Crossing were having a barbecue at their home when a Holland America tour bus broke down, and they invited the dozen stranded tourists to join them, which made the wait for a replacement bus a lot more bearable. A few Holland America executives heard of this from the grateful travelers and visited to thank them, and suggested they make it a business, given the strategic location on the long scenic drive through the Yukon on the highway. One of the owners was a taxidermist, and now his work fills the wildlife museum at the site. They made a killing and retired a few years bac, and the place still grows in popularity. It now hosts a petting zoo, a wildlife museum and Mountie museum, the musher’s camp, an ice cream parlor, and a few other businesses.

 

We had a wonderful lunch of barbecued chicken, baked potatoes, fresh rolls, and their signature sugar-cinnamon donuts. They sold coke products as well, a welcome respite from Norwegian Cruise Line’s repulsive monopoly of Pepsi-filth. (Shudder!) I had time to wander both museums and the gift shops, the petting zoos, and snuggle husky puppies before my 12:15 pm dog cart ride.

 

 

Busch Gardens has nothing on this! We had happy, bouncy puppies (dogs - I even refer to wolves and coyotes as puppies) of all colors, eleven in all. Our musher told us that they used an odd number, and so, a middle dog had no partner because he didn’t always behave. I concluded that he does not dog well with others. It was rough and bumpy and swerving over rocks and roots, since we were on wheels over dirt and rock instead of sled runners over snow. We were told sledding is far smoother, but it was still awesome. All we could really do was hang on tight and laugh our heads off.

 

Most of the dogs ("Alaskan huskies" - basically mixed breeds of all varieties) were lined up for cart-pulling duties, but a few were on breaks and available to receive treats and scritchies.

 

Much jokes were made about checking to ensure no one on our tour was smuggling any of said puppies in their carry-ons back to the ship. Then we learned from visitors to another mushers' camp in the region that some jerk tourists had actually tried it once! They made it all the way back to their ship, where fortunately, the security stop before re-boarding caught them (before they put the poor puppy through the x-ray machine!) Puppy in question was returned to his home and reunited with his mom, and I can only hope the tourists in question had their butts tossed into jail. What dirtbags!

 

 

The sun was out when we reboarded the bus, so our driver took us up to Emerald Lake for a few more pictures. He had us guess what caused the color in the water – I guessed copper, since it’s mined nearby, but he said it’s calcium carbonate.

 

 

We returned to Carcross for a few more photo ops, then we got to guess what the purpose was of the very long rec center building. My first guess, hockey, was wrong, but I got it on the second guess: curling! Heh! Our driver compared curling to watching grass grow, and I couldn’t tell him to think of it as a sexual metaphor because there were kids on the bus.

 

Carcross was originally called Caribou Crossing, but its name was changed at the behest of a local bishop, who had trouble receiving his mail due to the number of other locales in Canada called "Caribou Crossing."

 

We saw One-Eyed Bear again on the return trip and got a photo op close to Bridal Veil Falls, which we’d seen across the canyon from the train. Our driver explained hanging glaciers that covered many peaks and that the softly rounded peaks had once been entirely covered by ice, while the sharp peaks would have protruded out of the ice during the past ice ages. Yellowish lichen is the first “plant” vegetation that takes hold after glaciers retreat, followed by other plants.

 

The rain started up again when we returned to Skagway, but the clouds were higher, letting us see the sheer height of the surrounding mountains.

 

Back in Skagway, I was among those who opted to be dropped off in the center of town rather than back at the pier, though the ship was only about a ¾ mile walk. I had four hours until all-aboard, so I ambled among the historic buildings, went into the small museums that were open, shopped and took pictures. Oh, and buying a slab of fudge, because I’m weak. The rain got heavy at one point, and I discovered I’d left my umbrella on the ship, so I bought another one for about $3. It wasn’t very well-made, but it kept me reasonably dry for the afternoon.

 

According to our driver, even small houses in Skagway approach $1M. Real estate is at a premium even in such a small town. It rained on and off all afternoon, but the clouds moved fast and gave me a glimpse of the peaks surrounding the town.

 

I probably put another mile or two in just weaving up and down Skagway’s streets, ogling mountains and gradually making my way back to the ship. None of the local restaurants tempted me, so I decided I’d save money and eat on the ship.

 

 

Re-boarded around 6 pm to the Atrium dance party rocking out to Taylor Swift and hauled my acquisitions to my cabin before heading down to Seven Seas main dining room for dinner. Tonight I ate conservative, and it paid off. The galley got spaghetti Bolognese perfect, as well as chicken Caesar salad. I tried a chocolate crepe with nougat crème for dessert. Yummy, though I scraped off the mandarin and raspberry sauces (I have an aversion to fruit sauces on chocolate.)

 

Then up to the upper decks to write today’s chronicle and watch sail away. Fog, clouds, and rain shrouded the fjord once again as we prepared to leave.

 

I decided today was my favorite excursion, though Juneau remained my favorite port.

 

I still hadn’t figured out how to get to the Observation Lounge without crossing the sports deck, and we were already under way when I started – aaaugh! I’ve always wondered what hurricane force winds feel like! The bridge report always gave the “actual wind speed” and “apparent wind speed” – the latter means how the wind feels when the ship’s speed and direction is factored in. Sometimes a “fresh breeze” becomes a “moderate gale” if we’re moving in the right direction. Dunno what this was, but it was dang near enough to knock me over! The Observation Deck outside the lounge was closed “due to strong winds” – yep, noticed! Couldn’t very well argue with that.

 

However, inside the Lounge, the jazz band performing tonight was a vast improvement over last night’s entertainers, and the view of the mountains was beautiful enough for me to park myself for a while and just relax. A couple even got up and danced.

 

The wind was whipping white caps up on the Taiya Inlet, and the clouds were clearing near its mouth like the exit from a tunnel made of shadowy mountains. The huge white peaks seemed to glow when the sun hit them.

 

Observation: NCL still mixes drink strong enough to kill me. Three sips ended my one attempt at consuming a ridiculously-overpriced cocktail. It also tasted nasty (Pisco Punch).

 

The skies cleared as the inlet opened up, and the mountains on the starboard side rose up in dark and white pyramids. Waterfalls cascaded down into the ocean from the port side, close enough even for my dinky little iPhone, since I’d left my new camera charging in my cabin. Sadly, we were turning to port, so I soon lost sight of the peaks with their snowy crags.

 

Instead we sailed back into the fog, and I watched it rolling over the green, lower peaks closest to us until it was too dim and hazy to see anymore.

 

Here is my full picture-heavy journal of Skagway day.

[3Fluffies]

Saturday, June 4, 2016: Glacier Bay

 

Had some trouble getting out of bed at 6 am, so I must finally be adusting to the time zone – right before I go home, naturally. The ship was quiet, and we were in foggy open water, so I went to Moderno for a waffle, then up Deck 12 to claim a spot in the Observation Lounge. There was plenty of space and time to peruse the Park Rangers’ merchandise, and I bought a DVD.

 

We began the Rangers’ narration of Glacier Bay with a huge rocky island that was said to be home to mountain goats. Two adults, two kids were spotted.

 

We sailed north into the Bay towards Tarr Inlet. Once again, the mountains were threaded with waterfalls, and the telltale moraines of past glaciers. We passed the Reid Glacier first and left the worst of the rain and fog behind for patchy clouds and frigid wind that had me running back to my cabin for hat, scarf, and gloves, since I knew I’d be spending a lot of today outside.

 

The shoreline is home to bears, moose, and other land mammals, but sadly none appeared today.

 

 

Grand Pacific Glacier is in the center, Margerie Glacier on the left. The Grand Pacific is the biggest, but hard to make out because its face is covered by dark soil and debris from a landslide. Margerie, on the other hand, is classic, with a face made of spectacular crags, crevasses, and spires of blue and gray ice, banded with deep blue and slate gray layers. We seemed impossibly close by the time we stopped and the captain began executing a full 360-degree turn so everybody everywhere on the ship could get an up-close look. Ranger Laura assured us that the fjord is over 800 feet deep, so we were in no danger of running aground. Notice the change in color of the water. The darker water is typical seawater, while the paler water is glacial silt runoff.

 

 

A little perspective on how dang big the face of a glacier is.

 

Once we were in position in front of Margerie Glacier, the ship rotated 360 degrees so everybody everywhere on board could get a good look.

 

We saw tufted puffins floating past, unconcerned with us. Glacous gulls and black-legged kittiwakes (both gull species) were identified for us by the Rangers, along with black surf scoters, a marine duck. Later, I saw a bird attacking a gull for its meal that we assumed was a raven, until I noticed that the tail was completely wrong. During a warm-up break in the Observation Lounge, I consulted my Kindle field guide and discovered, to my delight, the culprit was a parasitic jaeger! (I'm a casual bird watcher raised by dedicated bird watchers.)

 

Why did I need warm-up breaks? Because it was cold as, well, a glacier bay, and windy to boot. The wind when we were in motion was strong enough to knock people over, blew my hair everywhere, and was painful even through hat, scarf, and gloves. We dodged in and out, seeking the best spots on the deck to snap pictures or get a look through binoculars, then when we could tolerate no more cold-searing wind and/or spattering rain, dove back into the glorious heat of the Observation Lounge for coffee and cocoa.

 

I saw Margerie calving into the water several times. Sadly, I was on the wrong side of the Lounge during the biggest calve, which was a huge spire collapsing into the sea and causing an “oooooh” to echo through the Observation Lounge. I got there in time to see the huge debris field spreading out on the water below the glacier’s face.

 

After an hour admiring Margerie and the Grand Pacific, we turned around and retraced our (steps? Sails?) out of Tarr Inlet, turning west towards Johns Hopkins Inlet for a look at the Johns Hopkins Glacier. The inlet was closed to protect breeding harbor seals and their young pups, so it had to be from a distance.

 

 

We passed by the Lamplugh and Reid Glaciers more closely on the return trip in some welcome – but sadly brief – sunshine, then the gale force wind generated on deck by increasing speed into an already-strong headwind drove most of us inside.

 

Our time inside the warm Observation Lounge didn’t last long, because the cry went up: “WHALE!” A stampede back onto the Observation Deck followed, and I sprinted port for a sight that had eluded my actual whale-watching trip. A humpback, repeatedly breaching, leaping again and again out of the water as we passed. He also rolled and slapped the water with his fins, making me wonder if a nearby smaller tour boat was bothering him.

 

Near North Marble Island, we encountered many stellar sea lions swimming and basking on the rocks, and a bald eagle in one of the trees. One sea lion yelled at us from the water as we passed. (We all agreed it sounded insulting. I don’t think he liked us dang tourists.)

 

In the Sitakaday Narrows, sea otters did synchronized swimming routines, popping out, rolling over, then diving again in unison. While I was eating lunch, they floated on their backs eating their lunch. They were obscenely cute with their little feet sticking up - but incredibly difficult to photograph.

 

 

Once we passed out of Glacier Bay into Icy Strait, bound for Cross Sound and then the Gulf of Alaska, I noticed on the Rangers’ awesome map that we were about to pass one more glacier. So I sprinted back up onto the deck in time for a distant but still stunning view of the Brady Glacier, leading right out of the Brady Icefield in the southernmost part of the Fairweather Mountains. I ran up onto the deck so fast I left hat, gloves, and coat behind, but it was worth it. The Brady Glacier was the widest, most dramatic yet, but from a cruel distance even with my camera on full zoom. Through the binoculars, I could clearly see the icefield spreading out over the mountains, and although we were under clouds, the ice field was sunlit, glowing to the north.

 

 

As soon as we passed Cape Spencer, and what appeared to be a high-tech lighthouse to the north, the sea started those deep, low rolls that I hate. I hoped we’d stay close to the shore and pass the La Perouse Glacier close enough to see, and Mt. Fairweather, which was the highest peak in British Columbia at 15,300 feet. With clear skies, one repeat visitor to Alaska had said it could be seen from a distance, but it the rain had started up again, so it didn’t bode well for mountain viewing or my dinner at Le Bistro.

 

Sadly, I was right. Ridiculous how a “low rippled sea” could make me so woozy. Dinner at Le Bistro was wonderful (salmon mousse on toasted baguette, duck two ways, and profiteroles for dessert), but I didn’t do it justice. Even without nausea, being dizzy makes it hard to enjoy a meal. Still, I had a stunning, if distant view of the La Perouse Glacier, and beyond a bank of seriously annoying clouds, Mt. La Perouse, rising 10,728 feet behind it.

 

 

An hour or two after dinner, I’d taken a Meclizine and felt a lot better, even though the waves were bigger. Go figure. Tomorrow would be another early day with our morning arrival at Hubbard Glacier, so I went to bed early.

 

Here is my picture-filled, more detailed journal entry of Glacier Bay Day.

[3Fluffies]

Sunday, June 5, 2016: Hubbard Glacier

 

Didn’t sleep well last night and had to scramble to the Observation Lounge as we entered Yakutat Bay. It was another cloudy morning, but the peaks surrounding Yakutat Bay are beautiful - just like everything else in Alaska.

 

The Bay was much smaller than Glacier Bay, but at its end, in a smaller bay called Disenchantment Bay was one of the biggest tidewater glaciers in North America.

 

Given all the ice in the water, I was amazed that the captain got us as close as he did! The dark face of Turner and Haenke Glaciers is visible on the left in the picture above, and in the center, Hubbard Glacier. To the right behind the headland, the face of the glacier goes on to cover six miles, including Russell Fjord. Curving off to the left behind the edge of the mountains is actually Valerie Glacier, which ends by running into Hubbard just before it reaches the sea.

 

 

Hubbard Glacier dwarfs its smaller neighbors, Valerie Glacier and Turner and Haenke Glaciers, to the west with stunning pillars and spires of banded blue and gray rising 40 stories above the waterline.

 

The captain got us closer than I ever would have expected with so much ice in the water, floating swiftly around the glacier’s face. Even when we stopped, it was bitterly cold and windy again, and I could only tolerate a few minutes at a time out on deck.

 

 

Something my dinky camera couldn't capture was how fast the water at the base of the glacier's face was moving. Huge chunks of ice calved off and were promptly swept off to the left until they were out of sight. I wouldn't have thought anything could impress me more than Margerie Glacier yesterday - but Hubbard Glacier is bigger, bluer, calves more often and a lot louder.

 

 

Another shot for scale. Hubbard Glacier's face rises 40 stories from the waterline. It was considerably taller than the highest deck on the Sun.

 

Today we had cocoa and coffee and lemon and apple Danish – I ate way too many of both.

 

Hubbard Glacier is a contrarian thing, in that it was retreating during the last ice age and is now advancing while most other glaciers are in retreat in the teeth of global warming. It is very active, and we eagerly awaited the telltale cracks of ice that heralded “white thunder” as the local First Nations people called it, when parts of the face calved into the bay.

 

 

Soon many of us were focused on a particular blue pillar, which had chunks calving off the face on both sides so that it was sticking out in a more and more precarious position. That's it directly above the left-hand edge of the rocks in the shot above.

 

It was nearly as tall as the ship, perched out over the edge of the glacier’s face. Once we were in front of Hubbard Glacier, as in Glacier Bay yesterday, the ship rotated 360-degrees so that everyone everywhere on board could get a good look at the glacial face.

 

The pillar was still there when the captain completed his 360-degree turn and we were facing the glacier again. But even from inside, we could hear it cracking and see fragments all around it falling until…white (blue) thunder as the whole pillar came free, intact, and fell straight into the water. It bobbed to the surface like a cork and floated past the face, a new blue iceberg, to much cheering.

 

After an hour watching Hubbard Glacier, we turned away and departed through a narrow channel east of Haenke Island. I would have pegged that as being too narrow for the ship to pass through safely, but evidently it was as deep as any other fjord.

 

 

The passage between the eastern shore (left) and Haenke Island (right.) Pretty dang narrow, but evidently deep enough for even a ship as big as ours to pass through safely. Everyone scanned both the island and the mainland shorelines for wildlife, but didn’t see anything apart from gulls and the ever-present bald eagles.

 

Once we were back out of the bays in open water, the motion got to me again, so a nap was called for. The remainder of the day was lazy, flopping in my bed with the balcony curtains open watching silver rolls of water down to the horizon. I sat on the balcony a few times, but it was too cold to stay out there very long. Still, it was a lovely, lazy introvert Sunday for my final day of cruising.

 

My photo-filled journal entry of Hubbard Glacier Day.

[3Fluffies]

Monday, June 6, 2016: Seward and Anchorage

 

Awake at 5 am for the godawful debarkation time of 5:50 am for those of us who would be taking the scenic train. Wolfed down some chocolate mini croissants and OJ in Moderno and admired the snowy mountains surrounding our dock as we pulled in.

 

 

Alas, these were my last views from aboard the Norwegian Sun. The beautiful mountains of the Kenai Peninsula as we pulled into Seward.

 

We assembled at the Stardust Theater for the train, and the excursion rep told us that there were 450 people taking it. But debarkation was fairly painless, if crowded.

 

We were riding a cruise train on the Alaska Railroad, from Seward to Anchorage. Once aboard the train, I packed into a 4-person booth with tablemates who didn’t speak any English (Scandinavian, I think?)

 

 

The booth behind us was vacant, and the car attendant let me claim a window seat once we were under way and established nobody with special needs was in the carriage. First wildlife sighting was a bald eagle before we even started moving.

 

I ordered a Sparkling Sunset (sprite, orange and cranberry juice and grenadine) but initially got a Vodka Sunset. Whoops! It actually wasn’t bad, but even if I was much of a drinker, it was way too early for alcohol. Scenery flew by, thwarting many picture attempts even from the open air platforms.

 

We passed Kenai Lake, 20 miles long with 100 miles of shoreline. Managed a few pictures from the open air platform, but it was too cold and rainy to spend very long out there. There were more signs of civilization here – lots of log cabins, the occasional road or shack. Beautiful deep blue creeks with varying levels of rapids flew past, and some longer rivers as we crossed over trestle bridges.

 

 

Fog and low clouds obscured the mountain peaks, but rain was intermittent, and when the scenery opened up to valleys and creeks, the views were stunning.

 

At 8:20, the cry went up – MOOSE! I got only a quick look in my binoculars, but it turned out to be a mother and calf. Only moments after, there was a second sighting – a mother brown bear leading three cubs across a snowfield on the mountainside above us.

 

To my surprise, the car attendant told us we’d be passing three glaciers on the ride. The first was the Trail Glacier. After came Grand View, the summit of the train journey, followed by the Loop. Watermelon algae turns the snow streaks of pink on the mountain sides. Bartlett Glacier was on the Loop. We also passed a section called Snow Lake and the Seven Waterfalls just before the glacier.

 

 

Then the Skookum Glacier peeked out between the mountains, probably the source of many of the creeks and streams that ran across the valley around us.

 

I saw more long-tailed birds that clearly weren’t gulls – I think they were arctic terns. The rain picked up again, streaking the windows and making the mountains more hazy.

 

Next came the town of Portage, utterly destroyed by the 1964 Anchorage Earthquake. The area is a clay basin covered by seawater, creating Potter’s marsh and killing most of the visible trees. Saw mallards in the water and more jaegers flying overhead along with the white-tailed arctic terns. There’s also a pond flower whose leaves look like waterlilies but whose blossoms are deep yellow, tulip-shaped. Then we were back in heavy stone, high-walled trenches lined with trees on my side, and the Turnagain Arm Inlet on the left, edged by mountains before disappearing into a veil of rain and fog.

 

 

The Turnagain Arm is so named because Captain Cook got stuck in the mud there and had to “turn again” in his search for the Northwest Passage. It is also home to one of the largest boar tides and mud/silt beds that are very dangerous near Girdwood. On my side of the train, the high rocks gave way to more water and waterfall-streaked slopes of gentle foothills. Mist began wreathing the higher peaks before shrouding them altogether the closer we came to the mouth of the inlet.

 

Wildflowers like some variant of Queen Anne’s Lace, drooping red/orange blossoms, and purple lupine-like clusters grew on the glasses among deciduous trees in the valley. Higher up, yellow lichens lined the crags of the rocks, and fir and spruce were the main trees visible.

 

Our guide told us Girdwood maintains an emergency response team to rescue people who get stuck in the mud during low tide. It’s walkable, but stand still long enough and you sink, and tides come up through the mud and silt. I know there’s a name for that (subsistence? Liquefaction?) that also occurs heavily during coastal earthquakes.

 

After Girdwood, the Turnagain Arm went on and on my side of the train was an impressive stone shelf cut into huge slate gray steps, streaked with red and gold, occasionally splashed by waterfalls or scarred by landslides with telltale debris piles at the base. Then we left the hills for another open forest and marsh. A few more eagles, no land dwelling animals visible. The highway ran parallel to us, just below a grassy green slope cut by more waterfalls with more deciduous trees at the base and the lightest dusting of snow along its ridge. On the left, the marsh ended and sometimes I could see the front of the train curving around the rocky headlands directly over the water. My only regret was the weather - I would have given good money to see all this on a clear day and look at it in sunlight. Oh well, I guess I'll just have to come back some day and try again...and again...and again.

 

An eagle flew directly over our car, parallel to the train for a long stretch after we crossed a small trestle bridge over Bird Creek. It was raining steadily now and clouds were creeping further down the mountain slopes, between the peaks and into the gaps.

 

Just past the highway sign for 23 miles to Anchorage, we wound up at the base of a mostly-green mountain with waterfall after waterfall cascading over cut rock shelves along the highway. Our guide reported that sheep sometimes appeared in the rocks, but none were visible today. A wildflower bush grew here with pale pink and fuschia cup-shaped blossoms. Later on, between the tracks and the highway, the median was full of dandelion-like flowers except the blossoms were glowing white. It was very windy, even with the taller, sturdier firs swaying towards the mouth of the inlet. We passed Chugach State Park, and the entrance to a trailhead up into the mountains.

 

We passed Potter's Marsh, also formed by the 1964 Earthquake, containing 260 bird species. I spotted more Jaegers, gulls, ducks, and arctic terns from a distance, but couldn't identify most of them. After that came neighborhoods of upscale homes and and cultivated trees and flowers, so I suspected even before our guide told us that we were now in the suburbs of Anchorage. This neighborhood had planes in people's yards and its own airstrip, and our guide told us that the government of Anchorage thought better of it and subsequently refused to allow any other neighborhood to have one again. Heh!

Anchorage reportedly has 280,000 people, 250 moose, and 260 bears within its city limits.

After arriving at the airport, we split into two groups - those leaving before 2 pm and those leaving after. I was among the latter heading to the NCL Hospitality Center odwntown. I collected my luggage and boarding pass for the 4pm shuttle back to the airport, and decided on two goals for this rain-soaked afternoon: one last meal of wild Alaskan salmon, and the Anchorage museum, which was a short walk even in pouring rain.

 

Only after I set out did I realize I'd left both of my umbrellas in my luggage. Argh.

 

Got very wet, but accomplished both missions, first at Sullivan's Steakhouse along the mall after a very soggy walk. Then reached the museum. Really enjoyed the Alaska Gallery and the Arctic Studies Gallery on all Alaska's history and culture. However, the third and fourth floors' exhibits, not so much - very High Art, very little history or science. They did not speak to me. After browsing the museum store, I browsed my way through local shops on the way back to the hospitality center.

 

Found one last place to spend too much money - Kobuk Coffee Shop, a marvelous locally-owned place with all manner of goodies to eat and souvenirs and items for sale. I bought a glazed cake donut (yum) before returning to the Hospitality Center, and at 4 pm, it was off to the airport.

 

Anchorage International beats O'Hell on several levels: real "free wi-fi" for longer than 30 minutes, better restaurants, much better views.

 

 

So ended my Alaska cruise with the Norwegian Sun. (Actually, United Airlines was up to their old tricks, as I went on in detail at my Livejournal - WARNING: CONTAINS PROFANITY.)

 

As a final note, after I returned, I filled out a claim for the $150 gift card promised to us in a voucher by United for that horrific night at Chicago O'Hare. The gift card arrived today...for $100. I guess that's their parting shot. (Facepalm) What. Ever.

 

While I'll never fly United again if I can help it, I'd gladly sail Norwegian again. I found the trip very well-priced even when the single supplement, and tremendous fun for a solo cruiser. There were opportunities for both social and solitary activity on board the ship and off. All the ship-sponsored excursions (as well as the other excursions I took) were fantastic. My cabin steward was marvelous, and I never felt treated as less important despite being alone (and not drinking alcohol).

[triptolemus]

You are a fantastic writer with a delightfully interesting perspective. I will say the long-form post over on LJ with all that evil profanity colors it up nicely.

 

Nice job... and thank you for sharing your great story and the awesome photos.

[3Fluffies]

You are a fantastic writer with a delightfully interesting perspective. I will say the long-form post over on LJ with all that evil profanity colors it up nicely.

 

Nice job... and thank you for sharing your great story and the awesome photos.

 

Heh! Thanks. I do try to keep a lid on my potty mouth (verbally, anyway) but I'm sure you can imagine all the cusswords that start going through a person's head after the fifth or sixth unexplained airline delay, let alone when we realized we were stuck in Chicago overnight!

 

I tried to focus this review just on the ship and the excursions, since I figured that was what members would be interested in.

[Jonibme]

Thank you for your lovely travelogue and pictures. I always enjoy reading how people perceive our Alaskan ports and amenities. I live in Ninilchik - on the Kenai Peninsula, but I will be taking my 2nd IP Cruise in August and I am as excited as if I had never been to AK before! I love the ease of cruising and I never tire of our state's beautiful scenery! Thanks again! You helped me get even more excited for my trip in 5 weeks!:)

[yankeegirlinkiwiland]

Thank you so much for this detailed, well written and interesting review. We've just booked for July 2017 on the Sun and are very much looking forward to it. :)

[riclop]

Thanks for the review.

[OhJinkies]

Jocelyn,

 

Thanks so much for the great review. I'm also a solo traveler from Florida! I'll be on the Vancouver-Seward itinerary next June in an aft balcony (I'm splurging). Also plan to spend a few days on land (still making plans) before I return home. I enjoyed the photos and descriptions immensely!!

[biojeep]

Hi 3Fluffies,

 

I really enjoyed your review. We were on the Sun with you. We met on the observation deck in Vancouver on embarkation day. You took our picture & I took the picture of you next to the railing. I tried to help you with your Canon but couldn't figure out the problem. We were in cabin 9040 - we were neighbors & didn't know it. Marilyn sure did a great job of taking care of us. Our cabin was also very warm & we also had to call for it to be worked on. I really were impressed with the details in your review - I wish we had done a journal like you did. We had sailed on the Pearl to Alaska & were apprehensive about the older Sun but we very pleased with the Sun & would not hesitate to sail on her again.

[bettelpetal]

Really, really enjoyed your journal of your Alaskan cruise! Due to board the Sun on the 1st. August with a party of six members of the family - from 14 to 71! Sounds a fantastic trip. You are very brave to do it all on your own. I lost my husband 18 months ago and we loved cruising. Been on the Sun 3 times but it is a first for the rest of the family - your review made it sound so much more exciting than a cruise in the rain.

Many thanks.

[cavcmy]

Loved your review and journal; fantastic photos too. Now for question, was the muster drill conducted outside on the decks or inside somewhere (theater, dining rooms, etc)?

 

Thanks,

Carley

[3Fluffies]

[quote name='cavcmy']Loved your review and journal; fantastic photos too. Now for question, was the muster drill conducted outside on the decks or inside somewhere (theater, dining rooms, etc)?

Thanks,
Carley[/quote]

It was outside. On your key card is the letter of your muster station where everyone assembled. Roll call was taken and the crew gave general instructions about life jackets and assembly in case of emergencies, then they let us go. The whole process (assembly, getting to stations, roll call, instructions) took maybe 45 minutes.

[cavcmy]

[quote name='3Fluffies']It was outside. On your key card is the letter of your muster station where everyone assembled. Roll call was taken and the crew gave general instructions about life jackets and assembly in case of emergencies, then they let us go. The whole process (assembly, getting to stations, roll call, instructions) took maybe 45 minutes.[/QUOTE]

Thanks so much for this info. Appreciate you.

[3Fluffies]

[quote name='biojeep']Hi 3Fluffies,

I really enjoyed your review. We were on the Sun with you. We met on the observation deck in Vancouver on embarkation day. You took our picture & I took the picture of you next to the railing. I tried to help you with your Canon but couldn't figure out the problem. We were in cabin 9040 - we were neighbors & didn't know it. Marilyn sure did a great job of taking care of us. Our cabin was also very warm & we also had to call for it to be worked on. I really were impressed with the details in your review - I wish we had done a journal like you did. We had sailed on the Pearl to Alaska & were apprehensive about the older Sun but we very pleased with the Sun & would not hesitate to sail on her again.[/quote]


I do remember you! That's great! I've been ogling some of the Pearl's itineraries for a future trip. Marilyn really was great - I did a detailed praise comment card for her at the end of the cruise and added on some extra tip.

I wonder if thermostats in the cabins were reset for some reason during the turn-around of the ship between cruises - I heard from several other people that theirs were up on full blast heat or cold on embarkation day too.

While replacing my Canon did stretch my trip budget, I am glad I made that splurge, and really appreciated the efforts that the photo studio people went to trying to get the thing working again before I had to resort to buying a new one. Then they were a big help pointing me towards a simple, sturdy model (NOT the most expensive) one they had available that wouldn't be hard to learn to use.

[3Fluffies]

[quote name='bettelpetal']Really, really enjoyed your journal of your Alaskan cruise! Due to board the Sun on the 1st. August with a party of six members of the family - from 14 to 71! Sounds a fantastic trip. You are very brave to do it all on your own. I lost my husband 18 months ago and we loved cruising. Been on the Sun 3 times but it is a first for the rest of the family - your review made it sound so much more exciting than a cruise in the rain.
Many thanks.[/quote]

Certainly we all hope for clear weather on a cruise, but that's just one thing that can't be controlled, so why let it ruin a vacation? There's still so much incredible beauty to take in from Alaska. As much as I wanted to see the tops of the mountains, it was still beautiful (eerie in a way) to see the clouds rolling in between the peaks and the fog creeping down their sides. During a downpour, it could be pretty funny scrambling into the nearest shops and deciding that some browsing was in order. I made a few impulse souvenir buys as a result, which I'm sure the vendors appreciated.