Day Three

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September 10, 2007 - From Donna: We got all dressed up last night for the Captain’s Dinner – the dressy party where everyone wears tuxes and gowns. I had on my black velvet gown, and Diane had her long black skirt and sequined tank. We looked delicious. But the ship had been rocking much of the day because we were on the open sea, and she was getting dizzy. It didn’t look good for her, but she put on a brave front and we went down to the dining room. On the way, we passed the ship photographer who was taking pictures of the passengers in their finery. Two gentlemen were by themselves, so I said, “Let’s grab these guys as temporary dates.” They looked surprised, put their arms around us, and said, “Oh, Rent a Date! We like that!” So we had our photos taken with them and then we continued on to the dining room.

Diane put up a brave front, but she could not eat a thing. She was so dizzy that she could barely sit there. After a few bites of salad, she went back up to our room. The maitre d’ was concerned and asked me why she left. I explained that she was sick from the movement, and he said it was a good thing we hadn’t been on last week’s cruise. Even some of the crew were sick.

Our waiter came by and asked how Diane was doing. “Is she your – uh – sister?” he asked. I said no, she was a friend. He paused and said, “Is she – uh – just a friend?” I considered the various ways he could mean that, and I said yes, she was just a friend. After a second, he said, “So. Do you have – uh – children?” I almost laughed. Yes, she has two kids and three grandkids, and so do I. I’m not sure what he was thinking.

After dinner, I returned to our room to check on Diane, but she was sound asleep, thanks to the two seasickness pills. So I went back down to the cabaret and watched part of the show, went off to the gift shop, and wandered around a little. Then I did something really exciting – I returned to the room, got into bed and started reading my American history textbook.

Around 1am, Diane woke up and we chatted until 2. She was feeling better, so we went to sleep and woke up around 7am. Finally we were on smooth water again, gliding toward Juneau. The weather had turned drizzly, foggy and chilly, but the mountains of coastal Alaska were impressively high and rugged, with thin waterfalls tumbling all the way down to the ocean – thin white pencil lines etched into the darkly green forest. Trees grow thick here, and it looks as if the land is harsh. The climate is hard on buildings, which have a weather-beaten look even though they’re generally well kept, with property owners staying one step ahead of the next rainstorm or blizzard.

Thick jagged clouds hugged the mountain tops and dipped into the valleys, almost dropping down to touch the water. Everything was washed in the grayness of a rainy day. Even the inky green mountain sides were lightened with a curtain of gray mist. Small fishing boats and tugboats steamed by as we maneuvered into place, along with two other cruise ships – the Golden Princess and the Holland America Zuiderdam.

As we disembarked for the shuttle to take us into town – only about a mile away – a light drizzle began to fall, but everyone was in high spirits. Juneau’s waterfront was peppered with shops designed to lure in tourists – signs everywhere promised great deals on diamonds, tanzanite, Alaska t-shirts, gold nuggets, Native American goods, and all manner of mugs, key chains, postcards, and other goodies targeting people who came in to drop some hard cash along a two- or three-block stretch and then return to the ship, never getting a glimpse of real life here.

Diane and I joined the throngs piling into a souvenir shop offering half off everything in stock, as it is now the end of tourist season. In two weeks, these shops will close up until the spring, when tourist hunting season is open again. “You have to stay really busy here in the winter, or else you can go nuts,” one young man told us, explaining that he held three jobs and was going to school.

At 2pm, we met up with the shuttle that would take us to the helicopter port so we could fly up to the Mendenhall Glacier, land on the surface, and fly back. The people at the heliport kept talking about how much we’d love the trip, building our excitement. This was the one thing that Diane really wanted to do while we were in Alaska – walk on the glacier. But in a flash, the flight was cancelled. A rain squall had come in, making landing too dangerous. All pilots were grounded. Although it meant that we got our $225 (each) refunded, we still were disappointed.

Instead, we took a bus out to see the glacier from a distance, standing in the rain just to take a few photos and then dash back to catch the next shuttle in to town. The glacier was quite spectacular, even from across Mendenhall Lake, which was littered with ice floes that glowed an eerie blue. The glacier itself was in retreat, melting back several miles from where it had been even 30 or 40 years ago. All across its face, you could see tracings of silt deposited over time – thousands of years. Now global warming is slowly forcing the ice to melt, with the water coming down the mountains in rapid cataracts that tumble and flow at full force even in drier months.

Tonight we sail out of Juneau and pass by the Hubbard Glacier fields tomorrow. I hope we can see some calving, as the glacier breaks loose with icebergs. We also have a couple of interview appointments for my food articles – one with the galley manager, another with the hotel manager, etc. We also get a private tour of the galley and the food operations so they can tell us how exactly the crew can keep more than 2000 people fed and happy for seven days at a time. Everywhere we turn, there is an opportunity to eat, whether it’s a taco bar by the pool, a burger place near the shuffleboard, a sandwich bar on the Lido Deck, a restaurant lunch in the Vista Dining Room, a meal taken in your room and delivered by a smiling Indonesian man, a build-it-yourself ice cream station, or a midnight buffet of light snacks before bed. The eating is non-stop for most people, and I want to know how the cruise line manages to keep the masses fed while controlling costs, avoiding waste, and never running out of anything.

Tonight we’re just having salad in the dining room, as we had a Mexican meal around 4 in Juneau. It was the only place that looked like it served regular food. Everything else was a souvenir shop or a stale-smelling bar. Even at that, the taco I had was quite greasy, and the chicken filling was so finely shredded that I suspected it was made up of scraps.

But that’s the nature of the touristy parts of town – get them in, get them to spend their dough, and send them on their way. Meanwhile, you miss the real heart of the place.

Do I sound cynical? No, I’m just realistic. I live in a tourist town, so I know how it is. It’s like going to Las Vegas, seeing only the Strip, and never getting a taste of the real city.

Okay, time to clean up for dinner. I’d better wake Diane. She’s already conked out.