You can’t do southeast Alaska without including some heavy hitters like Juneau, Sitka and Ketchikan. Unlike the smaller ports, we were no longer the only cruise ship in town – and surrounded by 3 or 4 other cruise ships, there could be up to 15,000 passengers flooding into the area. The best option then for keeping it real is to go a bit further than the t-shirt and nik-nak shops. Or in our case, a lot further.

5!!! Ships in town. Seabourn Sojourn is on the far right.

SITKA

Darren had a hike in mind, so after walking through the town to get to the trailhead, we set off up the Gavan Hill trail. It was a heavily forested trail which included a number of boardwalk sections, which soon turned into wooden steps. Which turned into steeper wooden steps and steeper still, until we were practically climbing this damn hill up wooden ladders.

At around 75 degrees, we had chosen the hottest day of the year so far in Alaska to do this walk. Apparently only 2 degrees cooler than in Hawaii! And for us being acclimatized to SoCal weather, it was the super high humidity that was the killer. We passed a sign telling us it was 1 mile to the first viewpoint. As I wiped the sweat from my eyes for the umpteenth time, hauling my feet up yet another wooden step, it felt like going a mile directly upwards.

Eventually we reached the viewpoint, which meant a view down to the ship (yay!). We also lost most other hikers at this point – for them, this was a full on hike they could brag about to their fellow passengers over dinner. For us… onward and upward.

I spy a Seabourn Sojourn

The going didn’t get any easier. In fact, in whose definition was this a ‘hill’ rather than a ‘mountain’? I swear I’ve been up easier mountains. (Side note, I googled it. If you type in ‘hill vs mountain’, the very first definition listed, courtesy of the National Geographic Society, is this: “Hills are easier to climb than mountains. They are less steep and not as high.” Well NGS, I do not concur. I would bet a small fortune that the person who wrote that has not been up Gavan Hill.)

But oh, was it worth it when our 3 hours of climbing and clambering through the trees brought us out into the open onto a ridge line with views to die for. Look right to see back down to the sea with its pretty little islands and inlets and teeny tiny ships. Look left over to grand mountain ranges, barely sporting the last of their winter snow. Not only that but a welcome breeze – bliss!

We hadn’t figured on this walk taking quite so long, and we had a brewery to fit in before getting back to the ship, so couldn’t hang around for too long. The way down was arduously tough on the knees, and my calves and quads were beyond broken for days after. All in, we did around 10 miles and over 3,000 feet of elevation gain (which was pretty much all in 3 miles).

As you might guess, the beer at Baranoff Island Brewing was very welcome and refreshing! We were cutting it fine though, so even Darren could only squeeze one beer in. We were indeed the last passengers back to the last tender (and therefore the last people to get back onboard before the ship left Sitka), but we thought we judged it perfectly – in fact with 4 whole minutes to spare, Darren was wondering if he should have had another beer after all.

KETCHIKAN

Our day in Ketchikan was kinda similar to Sitka. Hike and brewery.

The Hike: slightly less humid; less boardwalk & steps and more rock, shale & tree roots; more flies (Do not get me started on the flies – big nasty black things that circled my head relentlessly causing me at one point to throw my arms in the air, hands flailing wildly, and yell at full volume “What do you want from me?”. Darren gave me ‘a look’.) Similar distance and elevation gain to Sitka; awesome views; oh and the important difference here is that we get to call this one a mountain!!! Deer Mountain to be precise (although we didn’t see hide nor hair of a deer).

The Brewery: We very nearly missed out on Bawden brewing. They take a relaxed attitude to opening and closing times here, and given that custom had dried up for the day, they were about to shut up shop just as we rocked up. Our desperate eyes and lolling tongues suitably communicated our thirst, and they obliged by staying open to serve us a beer.

We were not in danger of missing the ship this time, but again we couldn’t hang around for fear of missing out on curry night (or as they refer to it on Seabourn – the Grand Indian Buffet). Beer and curry after a hike like that, yes please.

As usual, I forgot to take any pics of the curries… but here’s a little selection of Indian desserts we tried

JUNEAU

Sometimes you need to give your legs a break from all that hiking lark. Use some different muscles at least. Straight to the bike rental shop in Juneau then for a couple of road bikes.

A network of bike lanes, quiet back roads, and bike paths led us up to Mendenhall Glacier. The air was hazy from a number of huge forest fires that were burning in central Alaska and BC (the closest of which was still 250 miles away). So without the sun burning through it was a cool day to start off with – and as we approached the glacier it got noticeably colder. Like when the fridge door is open and you can feel the chill – wait no, more like the freezer door.

We locked up our bikes while we went for a walk to get a better view of the glacier and Nugget Falls. Because we were cycling, we only had very limited stuff with us, so no woolly hat or cap. I kept my bike helmet on instead during the walk for warmth. Darren walked a few paces behind in an attempt to disown me.

Nugget Falls with Mendenhall Glacier in the background

A bike ride isn’t complete without a brewery. Good old Alaskan Brewing is a few miles out of town, so the bikes came in very handy for getting there. We shared a flight of taster size beers. Their Pilot Series Imperial Oatmeal Stout stole the show, better than any of the beers we’d had at the smaller breweries.

A ferocious headwind cut the bike ride short to 30 miles. I wasn’t complaining (well, maybe a bit about the weather and my bike, but not about finishing early). As we had a full day with a late sail from Juneau, this meant there was still time to hit up a couple of other breweries in town. We rounded off our Bike & Brews day at Devil’s Club and Barnaby Brewing. And bonus, we were able to get an Alaska Brewing tin tacker for our little garden display back home 🙂

Beyond the champagne and caviar, one of the differentiators for Seabourn is the Ventures program, which consists of highly credentialed knowledgeable guides leading zodiac trips (i.e. on rigid inflatable speedboats) and kayak trips. Right from the ship. So you don’t need to go to ports with a big tour infrastructure, the ship just hangs out in a particularly scenic area, they bring out the boats, and off you go.

Our first pre-booked kayak trip was not until 4 days into the cruise, around the Inian Islands. As soon as we were onboard, we knew we couldn’t wait that long. We were chomping at the bit to get into those kayaks and out onto the water, so we booked an extra trip in the Misty Fjords wilderness area.

Misty Fjords

It was such a gorgeous sunny day, the mist that gives the Misty Fjords their name wasn’t really happening. When some mist and fog swirled in later, I was actually quite glad to see it (fickle, I know!).

A very sunny day in Misty Fjords, courtesy of our ship’s photographer and his drone (gives you a far better idea than any of my shots)

And the Misty Fjords looking misty and mysterious later in the day

This being a trip from a cruise ship where creature comforts are upmost, and liability being what it is in the US, all kayakers are required to wear drysuits. Impossible to look good in neck to toe orange, but it makes you feel the part. After an initial safety briefing and paddle technique overview (paddle goes in at the feet, out at the seat), we were ushered into the zodiac. So we got a little speedboat ride in too 🙂

The zodiac towed the kayaks behind us to a sheltered area from which we could maneuver from the zodiac into the 2 person sea kayaks. I pitched this somewhere between ‘could be entertaining’ to ‘surely a recipe for disaster’. But it was surprisingly straightforward and no one fell in. Not even me.

The water was deep dark and glassy, like paddling over a mirror at times. The granite rock towered above us (and below us, the reflections being what they were). Some of it was heavily forested while other areas formed sheer near-vertical cliffs – according to John Muir, the Yosemite of Alaska. With just the gentle plink of the paddle entering the water, it was incredibly peaceful and the vast surrounding wilderness reminded us of just how small and insignificant we are. And then we were brought back to our senses by a nearby splash, as an inquisitive seal popped up near our kayak. He stared at us and sniffed with his nose in the air, probably wondering what sort of banana yellow and orange creature we were. Plenty of other seals followed suit and we also spotted a mink running along the shoreline. Quite happy we managed to sneak a cheeky extra kayak trip in.

So beautiful, like drifting over glass

Look harder, there’s at least 3 seals in this pic!

Inian Islands

The Inian Islands lie perched near the entrance to Glacier Bay, where the Inside Passage meets the Gulf of Alaska. The intersection of these chilly waters gives rise to ideal conditions for marine life, including (bring it on…) whales.

Once again, the anticipation was building as we watched the zodiacs being lowered from the aft deck of the Seabourn Sojourn.

A sliver of low mist clung to the water, such a great sight as we boarded the zodiac and left the ship. Right on cue, there in the distance was a humpback whale arching gracefully through the water, showing off his tail fluke as he dived deeper in search of food. By the time we got to the kayaks, the ship itself was shrouded in cloud, just a tell-tale silhouette belying its existence. Magical.

Can’t take credit for this awesome pic, this is courtesy of our guide – but we’re in it, over on the right

The paddling was a different experience from the Misty Fjords. Slightly more exertion required as this was more open water, although nowhere near approaching the near death experience of some of Darren’s previous personalized tours. We were still relishing the surreal and serene atmosphere from the mist when we heard a loud crashing noise. Turns out it was a humpback whale tail slapping the water – too far away for us to see but the echo had carried a few miles, booming out across the water loud and clear at sea level.

When we paddled into shallower waters, we spottted a sea otter, chilling out on his back, minding his own business. A shy creature, he didn’t hang around for long to check us out – or for us to check him out.

No more whale experiences in the kayak, but in the zodiac on the way back, we saw a number of birds circling up ahead. This can sometimes be a sign of a whale feeding below, so we detoured to get closer. Sure enough, out pops a humpback, giving us a great close up show.

We were due back at the ship, the officers onboard radioing us patiently but persistently for an ETA. You’ve gotta give the Ventures team their due – if there’s a whale hanging out right by your boat, you’re not about to up and leave until you’ve had one last sighting. #static crackle… “sorry what was that, you’re breaking up”. He he 😉

So we eked out our last whale experience… up he popped, and as he deep dived, he gave us a wave goodbye with his tail. #static crackle… “sorry, lost you there for a minute. On our way back, ETA 5 minutes. Over.”

If you think of Southeast Alaska, what images spring to mind? For me, Alaska is intrinsically linked to ice and snow, and one of the iconic images I think of is a ship surrounded by floes of ice, in front of a majestic glacier. I was very excited at the thought of us being that ship. Even better, replace that ship with a kayak or a zodiac. Now you’re talking!

It was early morning as we cruised down Endicott Arm, a 30 mile fjord lying on the southern edge of the Fords Terror wilderness. I drew back the curtains in our suite, blinking into the light, and did a double take when I saw ice floating past the window. Time to get down to the aft deck and into that dry suit, this time with a few more layers underneath.

The Kayak Experience

As we left the ship, for the first time we saw the impressive Dawes glacier at the head of the U shaped valley (fact of the day – apparently glaciers form U shapes in the landscape and rivers carve out V shapes). We also saw a Royal Caribbean ship not too far from us, but what was that monstrosity on the top deck? Turned out to be the ‘North Star’: an observation pod at the end of a huge crane-like contraption that takes passengers 300 feet above sea level and out over the side of the ship. Imagine the queues for that. Actually, you can keep your North Star – I’m good with a more up close and personal experience in a kayak.

We transferred from the zodiac into our kayak without incident, and paddled up towards the glacier. As we hit small patches of ice, we tried to dance delicately around them. Not always possible, and I winced at the crunching and scraping under the belly of the kayak as we bumped slowly through a sea of ice. Luckily it would take more than that to gouge a hole in a plastic kayak. There would be no Titanic moments here, not today thank you.

As we approached the 1/4 mile safety perimeter beyond which it was deemed too close to go any further towards the face, the wind chill coming off the glacier intensified. Not only that but as this is a tidewater glacier, the current at this distance intensified too. We had our work cut out paddling just to stay in the same place, as the current was constantly pushing us back.

Going nowhere fast

There was one iceberg floating around that dwarfed all the others. Relatively close to the face, it must have calved not long before we arrived. At a respectful distance, we circled the berg. Awe inspiring to gaze up at it from sea level in a kayak, and almost too vivid blue to be real. There’s nothing like kayaking amongst icebergs and glaciers to put you in your place.

Living the dream!!

The Zodiac Experience

With such breathtaking sightseeing opportunities on this cruise, we didn’t want to feel like we’d missed out on anything, and in an earlier fit of panic, we’d booked a zodiac trip later the same day as the Endicott Arm kayaking trip. By this time, we were both thinking we’d had such an amazing experience kayaking that it couldn’t be topped, so we didn’t really need to do another trip. But by this time, it was also too late to cancel.

No drysuits needed for the zodiac trip, instead we layered up and donned our sturdy weatherproof Seabourn parkas.

There were only 5 of us in our zodiac, plus the Ventures guide/driver, Eric, which made for a very interactive and conversational trip. It wasn’t like a guide giving a lecture, I would pitch it somewhere between a Show and Tell with someone keen to give you a well-rounded experience, and a chat with a friend who is far more knowledgeable than you.

First and foremost, in just a few hours the landscape had changed. That big blue iceberg the size of a 3 storey house had broken up into maybe 2 or 3 ‘smaller’ icebergs – but still the biggest around by far. Actually, that’s similar to the state of Alaska – if you broke Alaska into 2 states, it would still be the biggest AND the second biggest of all the US states.

The Dawes Glacier is incredibly active right now. We’d seen, and heard, much calving on our morning trip. But it’s actually quite difficult to see the cracking and calving action in full, because by the time you hear it, it’s already happened and you just see chunks of ice falling into the water. With his sixth sense (or maybe experience), Eric told us to watch a particular spot on the face of the glacier, as he’d noticed some action going on there. Sure enough, not even 5 minutes later, the shelf of ice we’d been keeping an eye on cracked and plummeted into the water, followed by the telltale explosive calving sound. Kudos indeed.

It’s difficult to appreciate the scale of a glacier when everything around you is also so massive. But we got a small sense of proportion when we realized how long it took for the wave from the ice calving to reach our zodiac. As we learned more about the glacier, the geology of the valley we were in, and the flow of water underneath us (all the time with the backdrop of rocks and ice smashing and splashing loudly), the newly formed ice floes were slowly drifting towards us. We leaned over the inflatable sides of the boat and listened carefully to the fizzing and hissing as the ice relaxed and released its compressed air. Like the snap, crackle and pop of a rather large bowl of Rice Krispies. This air had been entrapped as falling snow became densely compacted into glacial ice, so we were now breathing in 300 year old air.

Eric was all into making memories, not just momentos. Photos will remind us of how things looked but he wanted us to use all our senses. At that, he donned some industrial rubber gloves, reached over and scooped a mini iceberg from the water. Passed it around so we could get a feel for it (whoah, it was heavy for its size – and super cold). It was crystal clear and glassy, like one of those uber cool ice cubes you get in a posh bar. Really smooth to the touch, all except for one edge that was rough and white, rather than clear. Turns out that was the 10% or so that had been stuck out of the water and had started to react to the air. I have to say I was skeptical, but when he released it back into the water, it all but disappeared, literally just a tiny insignificant ice floe left hovering above the waterline. There is no bettter way of making this real. Gobsmacked.

Check out those gloves

Yeah, we all got a go. Hurry up, it’s freezing cold!

Much larger icebergs still have the same 90% underwater – from above you see just a glimpse of what lies in the depths

To say we’re glad we did the zodiac trip after all is an understatement. All that remained was to see some seals doing yoga on the ice floes on our way back to the ship. Which we did.