Cruise — Day 06 — Ketchikan 



Ship's time — 21:02 (Wednesday, June 14, 2006).
Ship's position — 52° 54.08 N', 130° 39.19' W (two-thirds of the way down the east side of Queen Charlotte Island, BC).

Pictures for this blog can be found here.

We docked this morning in Ketchikan at 6:20. Our cabin was turned away from Ketchikan, so all we could see was Gravina Island (where one of the BILLION dollar bridges-to-nowhere is going in) across the narrows. It was misty and the cloud deck was down to around 1200 feet or so, we didn't know if we were going to go on out float plane trip to Misty Fjord National Monument or not. We had three glorious days in a row, certainly not typical Alaskan weather. The weather outside was actually more what we packed for, being what the weather is like day in and day out up here, grey, brooding and damp with the temperature in the low to mid 50s.

We had breakfast in our cabin and headed down to the gangway at 7:00, and found out that our tour was going, so the day was looking up a little. Since this is the usual weather they have in Ketchikan, it is what they usually fly in and they only cancel if it gets so foggy that you can't see anything; besides the Misty Fjords live up its name in weather like this and the pilot says it is not nearly so spectacular in the sunshine.

Our plane was a DeHavilland float plane, a traditional Canadian-built bush pilot favorite, but with a sleek front cowl on the nose covering a modern turboprop engine instead of the big ring cowl of the air-cooled Wright rotary engine of the planes most people associate with bush planes. The pilot was a likable young guy who pilots these tours in the summers and winters in the Virgin Islands (yes, we are jealous). We were quickly informed of the safety drill and on our way, taxiing out into the channel and taking off from the water in a big display of spray. Within a few seconds I was comfortable with the pilot as being competent rather than a hot-dog — yes, we pilots are a judgmental little clique. It is a 70 mile flight back into the fjords, but the scenery getting back there is worth it, tree covered islands dot the waters and high cliffs start closing in some 15-20 miles along in the trip, with Sitka Spruce and other conifers clinging precariously to the slopes, sheer rock faces, obviously scoured and scarred by passing glaciers, and cascading waterfalls tumbling a thousand feet or more into the water below. The pilot informed us that on a clear day, you can see where the glaciers scoured the walls of the fjords to an elevation of 4,500 up the mountains and waters in some of the fjords are 3,000 feet deep!

After about 35 minutes, the pilot reached the end of the fjord he was flying, and I do mean the end of it as he put the plane in a 60° (that is steep for any non-pilots out there) bank and skimmed along 100-150 feet from the trees that were clinging to the cliff. Our quick turn around was in I think Rudyerd Bay, for we quickly came in for a landing on Nooya Lake, a pretty little mile-long pool hidden in the trees above the bay. The landing was as smooth as though he were landing on a polished marble tabletop. Some of the other passengers took the opportunity to join the pilot on the float, but considering I can't swim a lick, and that water is no doubt not much above freezing, I decided to stay in my seat; my dare-devil days are mostly behind me now.

Very quiet on the lake — had almost forgotten how quiet it could be outside after 30 years in cities.

Ten minutes of bobbing around, drifting with the light breeze across the lake and it was everyone-on-board for a pretty smooth takeoff. Not quite as smooth as the landing, but smoother than our takeoff from the Ketchikan waterfront. A slightly different course brought us over New Eddystone Rock, a 200 foot high spire of volcanic rock sitting in the middle of an S-shaped sandbar at the mouth of Rudyerd Bay. The rock is all that is left of an ancient volcano, it being an old remnant of a lava plug in the throat of the volcano.

Thirty-five minutes more — full of stark, primordial scenery — and the pilot was swinging the plane around to land with a little splash in the channel off the waterfront and back to pier to meet our Greyline Tour bus to take us back to the ship. In the Tlingit language, Ketchikan means "city of many jewelry stores", so, more shopping occurred here, I will not bore you with the details; so then it was back to the ship and up anchor — or cast off lines or whatever they do when the ship is next to a pier — at noon and we're off to Victoria, British Columbia tomorrow at 8 PM.

Lynda did her spa thing during the afternoon and I went and lost six bucks on nickel slots until it was time to get ready for Formal Night. We had missed the first one because Lynda was seasick. My rented tux (classic black) fit OK, but the shirt still hung on me like a tent because of my overly muscled neck and shoulders. Lynda looked stunning in her black and gold gown and she said I clean up ok.

We both opted for the filet mignon, but she got hers with a big lobster tail and I passed on the tail. 

Posted: Wed - June 14, 2006 at 07:56 PM          

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