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The WINE WRITER: George Medovoy
SAILING THE FINAL FRONTIER: ADVENTURE AND WINE ON ALASKA
CRUISE
By George Medovoy
ON BOARD THE S.S. UNIVERSE EXPLORER -- Selected notes while
cruising southeast Alaska’s inland passage...
We set sail as the lights of Vancouver, British Columbia,
disappear into the charcoal night.
The Universe Explorer carries 739 passengers and 330 crewmembers
-- considerably smaller than those floating hotels that ply the Alaskan waters
with as many as 1,500 passengers.
World Explorer calls its voyages “Adventures for the Heart, Mind
and Soul.” If you’re looking for gambling, glamour and glitz or formal dress
every night, this is the wrong ship.
In the next nine days, we’ll experience an informal “eco-cruise”
up British Columbia’s inland passage and then to the small towns of southeastern
Alaska, with tours and onboard experts to better understand this part of the
49th state.
The ship also has a 15,000-volume library with books on Alaska
and a computer room for computer classes.
Each night the dinner menu has a “light cuisine” meal, vegetarian
options, fish and meat dishes, salads and desserts. And, yes, you can
request an extra dessert!
And like so many other cruise lines these days, wine is
definitely in! As these lines seek more specialty theme cruises, wine has become
a way to lure new passengers.
In the case of World Explorer, wine is a key element of cruise
dinners and was happily enjoyed on our own cruise to Alaska. Wines on the menu
included labels from California, including Robert Mondavi, Sutter Home,
Woodbridge, and Kendall-Jackson, as well as wines from Washington state
(Columbia Crest and Chateau St. Michelle), France, Germany, Italy, Portugal,
Australia and Chile.
We enjoyed some of our favorite California wines, like a very
dry, full-bodied Kendall-Jackson Vintners’ Reserve Chardonnay, as well as a
Chateau St. Michelle Johannisberg Riesling, fruity with a delicate bouquet.
Champagnes and sparkling wines also graced the menu, including
California Korbel Brut, Moet White Star and Dom Perignon Brut – James Bond’s
favorite!
On our first night out, the Universe Explorer makes its way
through British Columbia’s Inland Passage. Lots of time to enjoy the fresh ocean
air and read on deck on this first day out.
6:30 a.m. the next morning: Folks are on deck with their first
cup of coffee, anticipating the 8 a.m. arrival at Wrangell, an island town of
2,000. The first sightings of southeastern Alaska come into view: low-lying
mountains illuminated by rays of sunlight.
Three ladies in 19th-century costumes, Wrangell’s official
welcoming party, wave to curious passengers who wave back from the main deck.
Despite their dated costumes, you can tell that the 21st century has arrived,
even here in Wrangell: one of the ladies is talking on her cell phone!
We meet Beth Comstock, a young mother of eight who carries her
six-week-old daughter Bethany. Comstock’s a stay-at-home mom, but she works
part-time leading tours when the ships come in during the summer and fills in as
a substitute school teacher.
Like condescending tourists, we ask, “What is life like here?”
“It’s wonderful,” says Comstock. “It really is. It’s very much
like Mayberry. We’re just a family. You know everything about everybody. Some
things you don’t even want to know.”
It’s also very safe.
“My wallet’s in my car,” she says, “the car keys are in the glove
compartment. I don’t think I’ve ever locked the car. Ever. It feels really nice.
You don’t lock your house. You don’t lock anything up.”
The weather here is fairly moderate by Alaska standards: situated
in a rain forest, the town gets about 100 inches of rain a year.
We drive to the other end of town to inspect faded rock carvings
near the shore, said to be 10,000-year-old Tlingit Indian praises for the salmon
that return every year.
On to Skagway: Frontier storefronts with historic charm mark the
town located by the Lynn Canal, the longest glaciated valley in the world, says
geologist-ship’s lecturer Dr. Monty Elliott of Southern Oregon University.
In 1898, Skagway was a lawless frontier town of 20,000, filled
with beer halls and brothels -- the starting point for miners heading up the
Chilkoot Trail for the Klondike. Today’s population is about 1,000.
Some things haven’t changed in Skagway. Take this recent ad in
the Anchorage Times: “Need a woman. Single white male, late 40s, with 30 sled
dogs, looking for a single white female to warm up the cabin and help feed the
team.”
Haines: My chance to kayak on Chilkat Lake!
From the ship’s deck, Haines is postcard-perfect -- a town of
2,000 nestled in the Chilkat Valley, otherwise known as the Valley of the Eagles
for the over 3,000 bald eagles that gather in the Chilkat Bald Eagle Preserve in
fall to partake of the abundant salmon.
Jagged peaks range from 1,900 to 6,500 feet, with hillsides
covered by spruce and hemlock. It’s the driest place in southeast Alaska, with
“only” 60 inches of rain annually.
Abundant wildlife includes both brown and black bears --
sometimes spotted downtown -- wolves, goats, and marine mammals.
About 40 of us join Deishu Expeditions for the drive to Chilkat
Lake, whose glacial waters are teaming with spawning sockeye salmon.
Satin-like and still, Chilkat Lake is so immense that if the
earth were flat, its waters would stretch all the way to the very end.
Ned Rozbicki of Deishu explains how to paddle the three-person
fiberglass kayaks, as we stand like soldiers with paddles at the ready. We zip
up our red life vests, slip into a plastic skirt that fits around the kayak
opening and take our places.
Only a misty rain is falling -- pretty spectacular for September.
Ordinarily, there are horizontal winds and substantial rains by now.
The kayaks glide across the water as we make a back-and-forth
motion with the paddles, while the fellow in the back guides the kayak with his
feet. I’m in front.
Now Ned announces: “Okay, everyone into the stealth mode.”
Everyone comes to a full stop.
The silence seems forever, but suddenly a salmon jumps out of the
water, splashing down either to dislodge parasites or jolt its eggs to lay them.
High in a tree, a bald eagle whirls around, disappearing into the
forest while its mate stays behind.
Rozbicki came to Haines 10 years ago on a lark from Seattle to
write a magazine story about Alaska. And like so many people who live here, he,
too, has a bear story to tell.
“My friend and I took our bikes on the ferry from Seattle,” he
remembers. “We got off the ferry and rode to a wooded area close to the ocean to
set up tents for our first night.
“I’d been in Alaska maybe all of two hours, and I look up and
there’s a brown bear running at me through the woods. I thought, ‘This can’t
happen. You can’t get off a ferry, set up a tent and have a bear running at you.
It’s totally impossible...’
“I was in something of a state of denial, but it was happening.”
Rozbicki told his friend there was a bear running their way. His
friend said, “Yeah, right,” then he, too, saw it.
For reasons still unknown, but for which Rozbicki and his friend
will be forever thankful, the bear suddenly turned and headed the other way.
In spite of the frightful incident, Rozbicki was “hooked” and
stayed.
“But my friend was a quivering mass,” he said. “I haven’t seen
him since.”
Next stop -- Sitka: This charming town is the centerpiece of
Baranoff Island, one of many small, forested islands in Sitka Sound. Since the
harbor won’t accommodate big ships, tenders take us ashore to Sitka’s snug
little harbor.
A short walk away, a worker takes advantage of the sunny weather
to put a fresh coat of paint on St. Michael’s Cathedral, the first Russian
Orthodox Cathedral in America when Sitka was the capital of Russian America.
The Russians named the town Saint Archangel Michael, and the
famed New Archangel Dancers, who perform for ocean-going visitors, have taken
the town’s name.
Botanist Mary Stensvold, a ship’s lecturer, lives in Sitka with
her conservationist husband. They own a bookstore here called Old Harbor Books,
specializing in Alaskan history and art, Arctic exploration and the Northwest.
Business is good because reading is one of the few things you can
do in Sitka when it rains. On this day, it’s short-sleeve weather, perfect to go
out on the Sea Otter Express jet boat to spot whales off Sitka Sound.
Misty Fjords: Everyone on board seems to be on deck now, as our
ship slowly enters the Misty Fjords national monument, a 2.2 million-acre
wilderness relatively untouched by human hands and accessible only by seaplane
or ship.
Ketchikan: “Five miles long, four blocks wide, and two blocks up
Deer Mountain.”
That’s how residents of this town of 20,000 built on the hilly
slope of Revillagigedo Island describe Ketchikan, which has the largest
collection of totem poles in the world.
The Universe Explorer docks along the main street, which is lined
with gift shops, art galleries and cafes. Much of the town is built on piles
over water, or perched on the hillsides with wooden ramps for streets.
Ketchikan Creek runs furiously through the neighborhood with
hundreds of giant salmon.
It’s raining -- not unusual for a town that gets 162 inches of
rain a year and is known as the wettest on the North American continent.
I’ve signed up to fly in a 15-seater Beaver seaplane over the
Misty Fjords and land on an alpine lake.
It was a great idea...but, well, already I’m having second
thoughts. While I have breakfast, the rain picks up and the cloud cover thickens
as a small seaplane takes off near our ship.
A seasoned private pilot eating breakfast with me says: “How can
they take off in this weather?”
I wonder if this will be my last breakfast ever and push my plate
away.
To go or not to go.
But something pushes me to the waiting van, where a pleasant lady
checks my name off a list. It takes forever for anyone else to show up. Am I the
only one on this flight? This is not good.
But presently more passengers show up, and eventually there’s
about 12 of us.
Once in the plane, the single pilot, a young, rather stoic fellow
wearing a green parka, tells everybody without expression: “Your floatation
device is in that pocket. Please buckle up.”
Then: “If anyone would like to join me up front, come on up.”
That’s my cue. and I hobble up to the co-pilot’s seat.
The engine is rumbling, and I wear my headphones to listen to the
music and the narration. As we taxi away from the dock, the pilot takes out a
roll of paper towels, tears off a piece, and motion to me to wipe my side of the
window, which has fogged up. I do as I’m told, half amused that this is the way
they must do it up here in Alaska.
After a bumpy ride over the water, we’re airborne, heading for
the Misty Fjords.
Well, this isn’t so bad after all. There’s plenty of visibility
because I can still see the harbor.
I give the window a few more swipes with the paper towel. The
breeze coming through my side window feels good.
Fifteen minutes into the flight, things start to change, and I’m
really worried because it looks like visibility is zero!
I want to say to my stoic pilot, “Let’s do the Misty Fjords
another time -- let’s turn back.”
But luck is with me: the pilot has been turning back, and I see
Ketchikan again. That night at dinner, what a tale I’ll tell -- one of many from
a voyage to southeastern Alaska.
IF YOU GO...
For more information about World Explorer Cruises to Alaska, call
1-800- 854-3835, or visit www.wecruise.com.
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