So what conclusion can we draw from all this? That the right has won the cake culture wars among adults, but that the battle still rages among our batter-pouring, icing-dying youth? Maybe so, maybe not. One thing is certain, though: the culture wars will continue even when pigs fly.
Sunday, August 19, 2007
Of Flying Pigs and Culture Wars in Cake
We made our annual pilgrimage to the Lane County Fair yesterday. Our overall impression is that the fair is shrinking. The art entries really seem to be down. For example, a few years ago, quilts lined the exhibition hall walls two or three high, this year, though, they were only one high. This year, they charged an entry fee, and that may have something to do with it, but even in years past, the number of submissions seemed to be declining. The horse barn had many more vacant stalls and the carnival area on the parking lot seemed smaller, too.
Friday, June 15, 2007
Shasta
Seven years.
That's about how long her first owners had her. When her name was Renee Louise. When she was negleted and abused. When she lived in filth and was covered with fleas and ticks.
Seven years.
That's how long she was a part of our family. She let every other dog know that she stood between them and us. Guided disciplined, and sometimes dominated her smaller brother Cody. Helped to raise the kitten, Stella. She was always there to please, protect, and watch over us. Asking little and giving all.
In the end, when cancer took her appetite and her strength, when we fed her salmon and hamburger by hand, she learned that we would watch over her, too.
Seven years.
It was not enough.
That's about how long her first owners had her. When her name was Renee Louise. When she was negleted and abused. When she lived in filth and was covered with fleas and ticks.
Seven years.
That's how long she was a part of our family. She let every other dog know that she stood between them and us. Guided disciplined, and sometimes dominated her smaller brother Cody. Helped to raise the kitten, Stella. She was always there to please, protect, and watch over us. Asking little and giving all.
In the end, when cancer took her appetite and her strength, when we fed her salmon and hamburger by hand, she learned that we would watch over her, too.
Seven years.
It was not enough.
Saturday, February 24, 2007
You Know It's a Bad Day...
When you do this to your roof while it's still raining.
I was in the office installing a closet organizer when Kim came in and said something to the effect of "There's water coming in one of the living room windows."
To which I calmly replied, "What the @#$%?" Sure enough she was right, at the top of one of the living room windows, water was seeping in and dripping onto the sill. This window is right in line with one of the skylights, and I conjectured there was a leak around it.
We kicked into action, setting up the step ladder on the back patio so Kim could shuttle concrete blocks from the top of the retaining wall in back up to the roof. I set up the extension ladder in front and spread the tarp out. The tarp we had wasn't large enough to reach the peak of the house, so Kim went to the hardware store to get another tarp. I shuttled more blocks up to the roof. When she returned, I laid out the new tarp. And boy does it look nice!
After the tarps were up, I went up into the attic and confirmed our suspicions. Water was seeping in around the sky light. The whole operation took about 2 hours.
We're hoping to get to know the roofing people later this week.
I was in the office installing a closet organizer when Kim came in and said something to the effect of "There's water coming in one of the living room windows."
To which I calmly replied, "What the @#$%?" Sure enough she was right, at the top of one of the living room windows, water was seeping in and dripping onto the sill. This window is right in line with one of the skylights, and I conjectured there was a leak around it.
We kicked into action, setting up the step ladder on the back patio so Kim could shuttle concrete blocks from the top of the retaining wall in back up to the roof. I set up the extension ladder in front and spread the tarp out. The tarp we had wasn't large enough to reach the peak of the house, so Kim went to the hardware store to get another tarp. I shuttled more blocks up to the roof. When she returned, I laid out the new tarp. And boy does it look nice!
After the tarps were up, I went up into the attic and confirmed our suspicions. Water was seeping in around the sky light. The whole operation took about 2 hours.
We're hoping to get to know the roofing people later this week.
Wednesday, February 21, 2007
More Dangerous than it Looks (a catch-up entry)
So Kim and I got after the Christmas tree thing in a very timely manner this year. We bought the tree, stuffed it in the car, and with only minor difficulty, got the tailgate closed.
Unfortunately, getting LED lights for the tree turned out to be a hassle. We went to Willamette Hardware, Jerry's Home Improvement, Home Depot, Target, Walmart, BiMart, and Costco. We only managed to find some all white ones at BiMart. To make matters worse, coming out fo Costco, I noticed an dent in the tailgate of our Forester. It looked like someone gave it a good tap with their bumper, no crease, but a dent a little bigger than a fist. I cursed my fellow man and we headed home.
As we drove along, I kept thinking about the dent. Something wasn't quite right. I just didn't think a bumper would have dented it without scratching it. But what else could it be? My mind flashed back to the Christmas tree lot. The tailgate didn't want to close. Kim got out and slammed it once. Then I got out and bumped it with my wide rear end. Surely I didn't dent my tailgate with my butt!
When we pulled into our driveway, I got out and took a look at the dent. I stood next to the tailgate and made the hip swing motion I used to close the tailgate when we got our tree. There was no question. Had I been on trial for this crime, this would have been the prosecution's smoking gun. My tailgate was carrying my butt print!
As I said, there wasn't much of a crease in the dent. The paint at the edge was chipping though. So I took the inside panel off of the tailgate and was going to hammer it out with a rubber mallet. Unfortunately, the bracket holding the latch mechanism was in the way. I managed to push it out most of the way by rubbing a variety of hammer handles over the dent. A little touch-up paint and it's almost as good as new.
Unfortunately, getting LED lights for the tree turned out to be a hassle. We went to Willamette Hardware, Jerry's Home Improvement, Home Depot, Target, Walmart, BiMart, and Costco. We only managed to find some all white ones at BiMart. To make matters worse, coming out fo Costco, I noticed an dent in the tailgate of our Forester. It looked like someone gave it a good tap with their bumper, no crease, but a dent a little bigger than a fist. I cursed my fellow man and we headed home.
As we drove along, I kept thinking about the dent. Something wasn't quite right. I just didn't think a bumper would have dented it without scratching it. But what else could it be? My mind flashed back to the Christmas tree lot. The tailgate didn't want to close. Kim got out and slammed it once. Then I got out and bumped it with my wide rear end. Surely I didn't dent my tailgate with my butt!
When we pulled into our driveway, I got out and took a look at the dent. I stood next to the tailgate and made the hip swing motion I used to close the tailgate when we got our tree. There was no question. Had I been on trial for this crime, this would have been the prosecution's smoking gun. My tailgate was carrying my butt print!
As I said, there wasn't much of a crease in the dent. The paint at the edge was chipping though. So I took the inside panel off of the tailgate and was going to hammer it out with a rubber mallet. Unfortunately, the bracket holding the latch mechanism was in the way. I managed to push it out most of the way by rubbing a variety of hammer handles over the dent. A little touch-up paint and it's almost as good as new.
Thursday, February 08, 2007
My Accidental Career on Wall Street
...Or how I was hired and layed off without really trying.
Before moving to Eugene, I was a computer science researcher at the National Lab in Oak Ridge, Tennessee. When we moved here, I landed a research position working of a couple of professors at the University. That was, well, different. I was there about 2 years, and when funding for my position was about to run out, I landed a government job with Lane County. That was deadly.
As luck would have it, though, my friend Steve was working for for a Wall Street company called SunGuard, in a group that supported an ECN called Brut. (think stock trading system that interfaces to the Nasdaq and NYSE). The office was located in Eugene for historical reasons. Prince that he is, Steve recommended me for a job, which I got. The company also recognized Steve's princeliness and gave him a finder's bonus.
As the years clicked by, my knowledge of Wall Street trading grew. SunGard bought Brut, made our group part of Brut, then turned around and sold Brut to Nasdaq a couple years ago. About a year after Nasdaq bought Brut, they bought a bigger, better ECN called Inet. Shortly after that, they decided to migrate their trading systems to Inet's technology and phase Brut out.
After much hemming and hawing, they decided that January 16, 2007 was the last day they needed people in our office. I had been threatening myself with quitting to pursue writing and potting as a career (you know, going for the big bucks) for years. In fact I had made up my mind to do so at the end of 2006 no matter what.
A job search soap opera ensued, with the majority of the rest of the office finding jobs. I, of course, didn't bother looking as I had my plans. There was a hook, though. Since most of the rest of the office would be gainfully employed, and the Brut system was not shut down, Nasdaq might need someone to provide support.
Hmm, I wondered if I might be able to negotiate a bonus to extend my stay with Nasdaq until the Brut system was shut down. I had visions of private jets and weekends in San Tropez, or at least paying down the mortgage on my house. I estimated that Brut would be completely gone as early as March, but June at the latest.
Our office space was on a month to month lease and someone had rented the space beginning January 1. We would have to work our last two weeks from home. My boss put in for laptops for myself and the other person who did not have a new job lined up. Coincidence that we would get the laptops? I think not.
Ah, the dreams we dream that don't come to pass. The above mentioned soap opera had another twist and another turn to go through. At the very last, Nasdaq decided they couldn't live without several of the people in the office (myself not included) and decided not to let them go. My laptop went to one of them as did the laptop earmarked for my coworker facing unemployment. And talk about surprises, two of those with jobs lined up ended up without jobs as a result of the soap opera (sorry, I can't give more details than that).
So, since I was without an office and without a computer suitable to login to Nasdaq, my effective last day was about December 27. I was paid as an employee through January 16, and I'm now under severence pay for awhile.
I met some fun people working for Wall Street firms. Most of them only over the phone. I learned a lot about software development and support, and I learned what pressure feels like, as we often fiddled with systems while they were live online. I liken it to working on a live patient. And a couple of times I killed the patient by making a simple (i.e. boneheaded) mistake.
Before moving to Eugene, I was a computer science researcher at the National Lab in Oak Ridge, Tennessee. When we moved here, I landed a research position working of a couple of professors at the University. That was, well, different. I was there about 2 years, and when funding for my position was about to run out, I landed a government job with Lane County. That was deadly.
As luck would have it, though, my friend Steve was working for for a Wall Street company called SunGuard, in a group that supported an ECN called Brut. (think stock trading system that interfaces to the Nasdaq and NYSE). The office was located in Eugene for historical reasons. Prince that he is, Steve recommended me for a job, which I got. The company also recognized Steve's princeliness and gave him a finder's bonus.
As the years clicked by, my knowledge of Wall Street trading grew. SunGard bought Brut, made our group part of Brut, then turned around and sold Brut to Nasdaq a couple years ago. About a year after Nasdaq bought Brut, they bought a bigger, better ECN called Inet. Shortly after that, they decided to migrate their trading systems to Inet's technology and phase Brut out.
After much hemming and hawing, they decided that January 16, 2007 was the last day they needed people in our office. I had been threatening myself with quitting to pursue writing and potting as a career (you know, going for the big bucks) for years. In fact I had made up my mind to do so at the end of 2006 no matter what.
A job search soap opera ensued, with the majority of the rest of the office finding jobs. I, of course, didn't bother looking as I had my plans. There was a hook, though. Since most of the rest of the office would be gainfully employed, and the Brut system was not shut down, Nasdaq might need someone to provide support.
Hmm, I wondered if I might be able to negotiate a bonus to extend my stay with Nasdaq until the Brut system was shut down. I had visions of private jets and weekends in San Tropez, or at least paying down the mortgage on my house. I estimated that Brut would be completely gone as early as March, but June at the latest.
Our office space was on a month to month lease and someone had rented the space beginning January 1. We would have to work our last two weeks from home. My boss put in for laptops for myself and the other person who did not have a new job lined up. Coincidence that we would get the laptops? I think not.
Ah, the dreams we dream that don't come to pass. The above mentioned soap opera had another twist and another turn to go through. At the very last, Nasdaq decided they couldn't live without several of the people in the office (myself not included) and decided not to let them go. My laptop went to one of them as did the laptop earmarked for my coworker facing unemployment. And talk about surprises, two of those with jobs lined up ended up without jobs as a result of the soap opera (sorry, I can't give more details than that).
So, since I was without an office and without a computer suitable to login to Nasdaq, my effective last day was about December 27. I was paid as an employee through January 16, and I'm now under severence pay for awhile.
I met some fun people working for Wall Street firms. Most of them only over the phone. I learned a lot about software development and support, and I learned what pressure feels like, as we often fiddled with systems while they were live online. I liken it to working on a live patient. And a couple of times I killed the patient by making a simple (i.e. boneheaded) mistake.
Wednesday, February 07, 2007
I'll Blame It On Alaska
Kim and I went on a small ship cruise to Alaska's Inside Passage (The southern part of the state that runs along a hunk of Canada and contains many islands.). Upon our return, my intention was to write a good blog entry that did justice to what we saw instead of a day by day recounting of where we went and a list of what we saw.
I failed miserably. After several attempts, I gave up without really admitting to myself that I was giving up.
Since then, many blogable events have transpired, but since I wasn't admitting to myself that I wasn't going to get the Alaska entry done, I just stopped blogging.
So, today I will start with a recap of Alaska that falls short of my goal, and then continue over the next several days with retroactive entries that bring this blog up to date.
Juneau
We arrived on Sunday, August 27, for a Monday departure. Our cruise did a circuit starting and ending in Juneau which is located on the plain and hills between the sea and the mountains. Weatherwise, it is either about to rain, raining, or just finished raining. Juneau is through and through a tourist town that depends on the cruise ships. The downtown was crowded with tourists scouring the shops for souveniers ranging from fine art to pooping moose keychains (unfortunately, that bin was empty). Tanzanite jewelry is always 20% off.
We took the tramway to the top of Mount Roberts and were able to get a good view of the valley where Juneau sits as well as walk around in the rain.
Sunday night, the large cruise ships departed. Monday morning, when we went to breakfast, Juneau had transformed into a ghost town.
For me, the most interesting thing about the town of Juneau is the access to many of the homes there. Out of the downtown rise several sets of stairs with metal grate steps. These staircases rise some 50 feet or more, ending at a road running above downtown. Flanking the stairways are houses and apartments, reachable by metal grate walkways off of landings. These homes are only accessible via the steps. Moving must be a pain!
The Ship
Our ship was a small ship called the Spirit of Discovery . It is a 162 foot long ship and handles a maximum of 84 passengers plus about 20 crew. For comparison, the large cruise ships we saw in Juneau had a capacity of 1200 to 1500. I estimated that our ship was about as long as one of the other ships was tall.
The ship has three levels of cabins. One near water level where ours was, and two above. The dining room is located towards the rear (astern) on the lowest level. An observation deck is located on the second level in the front of the boat (the bow). A lounge barely big enough to hold all the passengers is located behind the observation deck. On the top level, the cabin is located above the lounge and there is room to walk around the outside of the whole level. There are also observation decks astern on the second and third levels
Our cabin was tiny, about the size of a small RV. Two single beds arranged in an 'L', a closet, a sink, and a small bathroom with a shower and a toilet. Our window was about 6 ft. above the waterline. This provided a great view of the bergie bits (tiny icebergs) floating outside the ship. A couple of times, we could hear the ice bumping and scraping along the metal hull.
Fellow Cruisers
As a group, our fellow cruisers were older than us. I think there were only about four passengers I can say for sure that were younger than we are. This worried us at first, but we found that there was no shortage of smart, interesting, engaged, and good-humored people on board. As a group, they also liked to start cocktail hour no later than 3:30 or 4:00. We were very fortunate to make several friends on board that we are still keeping in touch with.
The Crew
At the risk of sounding, shall I say, rather senior, I would say that the crew were in general a fine, hard-working bunch of young people. The general staff were of college-aged or slightly older men and woman who worked hard and were always genuine and pleasant. Ours was the last cruise of the season, and when we asked crew members what they had planned afterwards, the common theme in their answers was to take several months off.
The DIBs
The ship carries several DeMaree Inflatable Boats (DIBs). These are like the Zodiacs that Jacque Cousteau's folks use to venture away from the Calypso. And that's how these were used. They divided the passengers up into 8 groups of about 8 people. Our group decided to call ourselves the Mooses.
There were several DIB tours during the course of the cruise. A crew member would drive the DIB and point out all the spectaculr things. On one particular DIB tour, there really wasn't anything that spectacular. Not to say the pristine pine-forested islands aren't nice, but instead of the iceburgs, whales, and waterfalls we were used to, the most exciting thing we saw was a dead seal. Our group wanted to change our name from the Mooses to the Dead Seals, but sadly, there was no official process in place for such a request.
Glaciers
Glaciers are amazing. We did a helicopter trip to Mendenhall Glacier outside of Juneau where we got a chance to see the ice fields that feed the glaciers and walk around on the glacier itself. From the air it is impossible to get a sense of the scale of what you are seeing. As we approached the Mendenhall Glacier, I thought I spied a small backpack someone had dropped on the ice. It turned out to be a 12 foot diameter tent that the tour operator used to store gear.
From the ship we saw several other glaciers. In Glacier bay national park, we spent several hours idling and observing. A unseen, submerged tongue of ice extends out from the glacier. To avoid a rude surprise from ice that inevitably breaks off and floats up, the captain keeps the ship about a mile from the glacier.
The glaciers are perhaps a mile wide and 200 feet tall. Water flows out through small ice caves here and there. Every few minutes a creaking or popping can be heard. Eventually the sound gives way to a loud crack like a tree trunk breaking followed by a thunderous roar. A section of the glacier calves away into the water, exposing the fresh, deep blue surface underneath and sending out a boat-rocking ripple.
In front of one of the glaciers, hundreds of sea lions sat out on the bits of ice, seeming unconcerned about the falling ice and rocking waves.
Most of the glaciers in the area have retreated miles over the past two centuries, opening up fjords. On the sides of the valleys vegetation patterns and moraines tell the story of retreat on the scale of tens of years or less.
Sitka
We will always remember Sitka as one of the wettest places we have ever been. It was raining so hard that day, that the operator of the kayak tour that we had signed up for offered to let people out of the tour free of charge. 7 of 12 people on the tour opted out. We were among the 5 intrepid souls remaining. The kayaks were located at a regional high school for Native Alaskans. We rode a bus there and were sealed into a three person kayak with our cruise friend Jennifer in the front. The guide was in a single, and another couple was in a double.
The rain was pouring and the wind was blowing pretty hard, bringing three foot swells into the bay. The guide took us on a trajectory that was at an angle to the waves. I heard a breaking wave to our right before I saw it. By the time I saw it, it was washing over us. For a split second, I stopped concentrating on paddling and started concentrating on the loop of nylon strap that releases the skirt from the kayak. That's the thing you pull to release yourself from the kayak when it turns upside down.
Luckily, we were just pushed sideways a ways and drenched by the water shooting up our sleeves. This was the only breaking wave we saw all day.
The rest of the kayak tour was less eventful, but little drier. Upon our return to shore, we discovered that our pocket digital camera was a casualty of the saltwater.
We went back aboard the ship, changed into drier clothes, and headed into Sitka. It seems to be more a town for residents than for tourists. There was only one large cruise ship at anchor there, and not a lot of tourists in the town.
There is a trail of totem poles at the Sitka National Historic Park that is worth seeing. Some members of native tribes are also there demonstrating crafts (woodcarving, beadwork, spinning, etc.).
Wildlife
The advantage of a small cruise ship versus a large one is really apparent when it comes to wildlife viewing. The observation deck is only about 20 feet above the the water, and the ship can be stopped and turned easily. The pilot can also inch the boat towards the shore for closer viewing. During the course of the trip, we saw seals and sea lions lounging on blocks of ice and jockeying for position on rock islands; several bears, including a mother teaching her two cubs how to scrape barnacles from the rocks on shore; a pack of wolves lounging, stretching, and lazily wandering near the shoreline; mountain goats on the rocks hundreds of feet above the water; hundreds of birds including bald eagles and puffins; sea otters lazily munching on sea urchins as they floated on their backs; and humpback whales (more on those below).
Whenever the crew spotted an animal on the shore, the pilot would slow the boat down and turn it towards the animal. Someone from the crew would announce on the PA system what had been spotted. By the end of the cruise, the announcements were superfluous as we were all trained to head for the observation deck as soon as we heard the engines slow and felt the boat turning.
Humpback Whales
What we saw of humpback whales was worth the price of the trip. The first day we saw whales we were in Frederick sound not far from Junea. Apparently the food was plentiful and the whales were in a good mood. They were feeding in groups using a technique called bubble netting. To do this, one whale in the group goes deep and swims in a circle while blowing bubbles. The circle of bubbles holds the food (krill, etc.) in a concentrated area. The rest of the whales dash in, mouths agape, and scoop up the food in a group. Five or six whales crash through the surface of the water simultaneously. That's some 180 tons (more or less) of whale hitting the surface. In one instance, the whales executed a bubble net against the side of the boat, hitting the surface 20 feet directly below us. It was violent and astounding.
In addition to the bubble net feeding, we were treated to tail slapping, where as the name implies, a whale sticks its fluke out of the water and repeatedly slaps the surface of the water. It is thought that this is done to scare food to other whales waiting at some distance. We also saw several whales breach. Imagine, a 30 or 40 ton animal jumping completely out of the water and crashing back on its side. The ships naturalist said that the effort for them to do that is about the same it is for a human to do a jumping jack. Hmm.
Our second opportunity to watch whales came several days later in Icy Strait. While we watched, this group spent its time spouting and diving. After watching for a while, we realized that in hitting the surface, breathing, then diving, these animals produce about the same size splash as an olympic diver does when executing a perfect dive.
We were lucky enough to get to do DIB tours in Icy Strait. Not only did this get us on eyeball level with the whales, it apparently got the whales interested in us. The law states that a boat cannot approach closer than 100 yards, but that a boat can cut its engines and if whales approach the boat that is O.K. Our DIB driver James cut the engine when we were close to several of the whales, and the whales decided to check us out. A group of three whales started straight towards us, hitting the surface and doing shallow dives as they approached. When they were about 30 feet away, one by one they dove deep, showing the full of their flukes as they disappeared beneath us.
As this was happening, James assured us that the whales never bump the boats. I wasn't sure if I trusted him or not, but I knew if they decided to dump us, we couldn't do anything about it. I kept snapping pictures, and hoping they would get close enough to touch (they didn't). Kim expressed her doubt by getting low on the floor of the DIB and repeatedly shouting "Oh my God!"
Thoughts
Alaska is soaking wet, utterly wild, and in many places pristine. The abundance and variety of wildlife is beyond what I could have imagined. To me, Alaska is a glimpse of what the world must have been before humans spread across the continents and started changing the environment. It may be a cliche but Alaska is the last wilderness. And on our trip, we only scratched the surface.
I failed miserably. After several attempts, I gave up without really admitting to myself that I was giving up.
Since then, many blogable events have transpired, but since I wasn't admitting to myself that I wasn't going to get the Alaska entry done, I just stopped blogging.
So, today I will start with a recap of Alaska that falls short of my goal, and then continue over the next several days with retroactive entries that bring this blog up to date.
Alaska
Juneau
We arrived on Sunday, August 27, for a Monday departure. Our cruise did a circuit starting and ending in Juneau which is located on the plain and hills between the sea and the mountains. Weatherwise, it is either about to rain, raining, or just finished raining. Juneau is through and through a tourist town that depends on the cruise ships. The downtown was crowded with tourists scouring the shops for souveniers ranging from fine art to pooping moose keychains (unfortunately, that bin was empty). Tanzanite jewelry is always 20% off.
We took the tramway to the top of Mount Roberts and were able to get a good view of the valley where Juneau sits as well as walk around in the rain.
Sunday night, the large cruise ships departed. Monday morning, when we went to breakfast, Juneau had transformed into a ghost town.
For me, the most interesting thing about the town of Juneau is the access to many of the homes there. Out of the downtown rise several sets of stairs with metal grate steps. These staircases rise some 50 feet or more, ending at a road running above downtown. Flanking the stairways are houses and apartments, reachable by metal grate walkways off of landings. These homes are only accessible via the steps. Moving must be a pain!
The Ship
Our ship was a small ship called the Spirit of Discovery . It is a 162 foot long ship and handles a maximum of 84 passengers plus about 20 crew. For comparison, the large cruise ships we saw in Juneau had a capacity of 1200 to 1500. I estimated that our ship was about as long as one of the other ships was tall.
The ship has three levels of cabins. One near water level where ours was, and two above. The dining room is located towards the rear (astern) on the lowest level. An observation deck is located on the second level in the front of the boat (the bow). A lounge barely big enough to hold all the passengers is located behind the observation deck. On the top level, the cabin is located above the lounge and there is room to walk around the outside of the whole level. There are also observation decks astern on the second and third levels
Our cabin was tiny, about the size of a small RV. Two single beds arranged in an 'L', a closet, a sink, and a small bathroom with a shower and a toilet. Our window was about 6 ft. above the waterline. This provided a great view of the bergie bits (tiny icebergs) floating outside the ship. A couple of times, we could hear the ice bumping and scraping along the metal hull.
Fellow Cruisers
As a group, our fellow cruisers were older than us. I think there were only about four passengers I can say for sure that were younger than we are. This worried us at first, but we found that there was no shortage of smart, interesting, engaged, and good-humored people on board. As a group, they also liked to start cocktail hour no later than 3:30 or 4:00. We were very fortunate to make several friends on board that we are still keeping in touch with.
The Crew
At the risk of sounding, shall I say, rather senior, I would say that the crew were in general a fine, hard-working bunch of young people. The general staff were of college-aged or slightly older men and woman who worked hard and were always genuine and pleasant. Ours was the last cruise of the season, and when we asked crew members what they had planned afterwards, the common theme in their answers was to take several months off.
The DIBs
The ship carries several DeMaree Inflatable Boats (DIBs). These are like the Zodiacs that Jacque Cousteau's folks use to venture away from the Calypso. And that's how these were used. They divided the passengers up into 8 groups of about 8 people. Our group decided to call ourselves the Mooses.
There were several DIB tours during the course of the cruise. A crew member would drive the DIB and point out all the spectaculr things. On one particular DIB tour, there really wasn't anything that spectacular. Not to say the pristine pine-forested islands aren't nice, but instead of the iceburgs, whales, and waterfalls we were used to, the most exciting thing we saw was a dead seal. Our group wanted to change our name from the Mooses to the Dead Seals, but sadly, there was no official process in place for such a request.
Glaciers
Glaciers are amazing. We did a helicopter trip to Mendenhall Glacier outside of Juneau where we got a chance to see the ice fields that feed the glaciers and walk around on the glacier itself. From the air it is impossible to get a sense of the scale of what you are seeing. As we approached the Mendenhall Glacier, I thought I spied a small backpack someone had dropped on the ice. It turned out to be a 12 foot diameter tent that the tour operator used to store gear.
From the ship we saw several other glaciers. In Glacier bay national park, we spent several hours idling and observing. A unseen, submerged tongue of ice extends out from the glacier. To avoid a rude surprise from ice that inevitably breaks off and floats up, the captain keeps the ship about a mile from the glacier.
The glaciers are perhaps a mile wide and 200 feet tall. Water flows out through small ice caves here and there. Every few minutes a creaking or popping can be heard. Eventually the sound gives way to a loud crack like a tree trunk breaking followed by a thunderous roar. A section of the glacier calves away into the water, exposing the fresh, deep blue surface underneath and sending out a boat-rocking ripple.
In front of one of the glaciers, hundreds of sea lions sat out on the bits of ice, seeming unconcerned about the falling ice and rocking waves.
Most of the glaciers in the area have retreated miles over the past two centuries, opening up fjords. On the sides of the valleys vegetation patterns and moraines tell the story of retreat on the scale of tens of years or less.
Sitka
We will always remember Sitka as one of the wettest places we have ever been. It was raining so hard that day, that the operator of the kayak tour that we had signed up for offered to let people out of the tour free of charge. 7 of 12 people on the tour opted out. We were among the 5 intrepid souls remaining. The kayaks were located at a regional high school for Native Alaskans. We rode a bus there and were sealed into a three person kayak with our cruise friend Jennifer in the front. The guide was in a single, and another couple was in a double.
The rain was pouring and the wind was blowing pretty hard, bringing three foot swells into the bay. The guide took us on a trajectory that was at an angle to the waves. I heard a breaking wave to our right before I saw it. By the time I saw it, it was washing over us. For a split second, I stopped concentrating on paddling and started concentrating on the loop of nylon strap that releases the skirt from the kayak. That's the thing you pull to release yourself from the kayak when it turns upside down.
Luckily, we were just pushed sideways a ways and drenched by the water shooting up our sleeves. This was the only breaking wave we saw all day.
The rest of the kayak tour was less eventful, but little drier. Upon our return to shore, we discovered that our pocket digital camera was a casualty of the saltwater.
We went back aboard the ship, changed into drier clothes, and headed into Sitka. It seems to be more a town for residents than for tourists. There was only one large cruise ship at anchor there, and not a lot of tourists in the town.
There is a trail of totem poles at the Sitka National Historic Park that is worth seeing. Some members of native tribes are also there demonstrating crafts (woodcarving, beadwork, spinning, etc.).
Wildlife
The advantage of a small cruise ship versus a large one is really apparent when it comes to wildlife viewing. The observation deck is only about 20 feet above the the water, and the ship can be stopped and turned easily. The pilot can also inch the boat towards the shore for closer viewing. During the course of the trip, we saw seals and sea lions lounging on blocks of ice and jockeying for position on rock islands; several bears, including a mother teaching her two cubs how to scrape barnacles from the rocks on shore; a pack of wolves lounging, stretching, and lazily wandering near the shoreline; mountain goats on the rocks hundreds of feet above the water; hundreds of birds including bald eagles and puffins; sea otters lazily munching on sea urchins as they floated on their backs; and humpback whales (more on those below).
Whenever the crew spotted an animal on the shore, the pilot would slow the boat down and turn it towards the animal. Someone from the crew would announce on the PA system what had been spotted. By the end of the cruise, the announcements were superfluous as we were all trained to head for the observation deck as soon as we heard the engines slow and felt the boat turning.
Humpback Whales
What we saw of humpback whales was worth the price of the trip. The first day we saw whales we were in Frederick sound not far from Junea. Apparently the food was plentiful and the whales were in a good mood. They were feeding in groups using a technique called bubble netting. To do this, one whale in the group goes deep and swims in a circle while blowing bubbles. The circle of bubbles holds the food (krill, etc.) in a concentrated area. The rest of the whales dash in, mouths agape, and scoop up the food in a group. Five or six whales crash through the surface of the water simultaneously. That's some 180 tons (more or less) of whale hitting the surface. In one instance, the whales executed a bubble net against the side of the boat, hitting the surface 20 feet directly below us. It was violent and astounding.
In addition to the bubble net feeding, we were treated to tail slapping, where as the name implies, a whale sticks its fluke out of the water and repeatedly slaps the surface of the water. It is thought that this is done to scare food to other whales waiting at some distance. We also saw several whales breach. Imagine, a 30 or 40 ton animal jumping completely out of the water and crashing back on its side. The ships naturalist said that the effort for them to do that is about the same it is for a human to do a jumping jack. Hmm.
Our second opportunity to watch whales came several days later in Icy Strait. While we watched, this group spent its time spouting and diving. After watching for a while, we realized that in hitting the surface, breathing, then diving, these animals produce about the same size splash as an olympic diver does when executing a perfect dive.
We were lucky enough to get to do DIB tours in Icy Strait. Not only did this get us on eyeball level with the whales, it apparently got the whales interested in us. The law states that a boat cannot approach closer than 100 yards, but that a boat can cut its engines and if whales approach the boat that is O.K. Our DIB driver James cut the engine when we were close to several of the whales, and the whales decided to check us out. A group of three whales started straight towards us, hitting the surface and doing shallow dives as they approached. When they were about 30 feet away, one by one they dove deep, showing the full of their flukes as they disappeared beneath us.
As this was happening, James assured us that the whales never bump the boats. I wasn't sure if I trusted him or not, but I knew if they decided to dump us, we couldn't do anything about it. I kept snapping pictures, and hoping they would get close enough to touch (they didn't). Kim expressed her doubt by getting low on the floor of the DIB and repeatedly shouting "Oh my God!"
Thoughts
Alaska is soaking wet, utterly wild, and in many places pristine. The abundance and variety of wildlife is beyond what I could have imagined. To me, Alaska is a glimpse of what the world must have been before humans spread across the continents and started changing the environment. It may be a cliche but Alaska is the last wilderness. And on our trip, we only scratched the surface.
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