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.
