Five o’clock came earlier than I expected. I’m not sure I couldn’t sleep due to the (somewhat forced?) excitement of entering Glacier Bay, or just because sleeping on the ship hasn’t been great. I ducked out without waking Mom and headed up to the Lido Market for caffeine. Brown water resembling coffee wasn’t remotely strong enough. We were just entering Glacier Bay. And despite leaving Skagway first, the Ruby is following.
The Glacier Bay Park rangers and our Tlingit guide came aboard just before 6, our ship slowing for their entry from a pilot boat, which would then head off to drop off pilots and rangers on the Ruby (apparently only Holland America gets the Tlingit guides).
The Zaandam moved slowly up the bay. Several of the passengers and I watched out the sides as the heavily forested landscape slowly thinned as we headed north, an effect of deglaciation that hasn’t yet been taken over by trees. Otters floated in the middle of the bay, far from shore, having their urchin breakfast (apparently, otters are a keystone for a healthy environment: if there are otters, there are urchins, if there are urchins, there is a kelp forest, and if there’s kelp, then there’s a whole host of other sea life). Then I ate quickly, downed another coffee, and headed to the Crows Nest.
The rangers did their intro at 7:00 sharp. There were two, one who would stay in Crows Nest all day, the other who would go to the bridge to provide narration of the things we would see. The Tlingit guide then traditionally welcomed us to his ancestral territory, commenting that all we’ve seen so far is jewelry stores (he’s not wrong).
It’s worth nothing that Glacier Bay is a point of contention between the National Park Service and the Tlingit nation. Glacier Bay was the traditional home of the Tlingit until, likely during the Little Ice Age around 1750 when the Grand Pacific Glacier started advancing rapidly (“at the speed a dog runs”, according to their oral history), and they were forced to flee across the Icy Strait. When the NPS took control of the ice-free Glacier Bay in the 1920s, it started a dispute of whose territory it truly was. Matters have cooled (yep, pun intended) in recent years and the two groups have a much more friendly relationship.
The rangers reviewed the schedule: when we would be at certain places, and when certain events would take place on the ship. And while the Tlingit guide was going to do an extensive presentation in the World Stage, I really didn’t want to be indoors and unable to see what was going on.
I spent the next 3.5 hours are running between the bow, running around the promenade, and up to the Sports Deck (Deck 9) to get the views of the inlets, the mountains, the otters (there’s apparently up to 10,000 of them in Glacier Bay), and of course, the glaciers.
As the rangers told us, when explorers had first arrived in Icy Straight (which is the channel that leads to what is now Glacier Bay) in 1790 (a mere 40 years after the Tlingit had been chased out), the ice had completely clogged the entire area. In the 250 years since, the glaciers have retreated over 100 km, opening the bay.
We pass some minor glaciers without note, see the u-shaped valleys where ice had, until probably even during my lifetime, flowed down to the waters. We pass very near to a cliffside covered in mountain goats. At the north end, we turn into Tarr Inlet, while the Ruby heads down Johns Hopkins Inlet, presumably to give enough room for each ship to hover without fear of collision. Suddenly, the “two ships a day” rule makes a lot of sense.
Two glaciers sit at the north end of Tarr Inlet: Margerie and the Grand Pacific. The Grand Pacific is domineeringly understated – two kilometres wide, covering the entire width of the valley. Its toe is completely covered in moraine and it looks nothing more than a pike of rock. Except you can see cracks in the ice. Beyond it, barely a kilometre away, is Canada – that’s how far north we were. The ship stationkept for an hour, slowly spinning to face south halfway through, so people in their balconies wouldn’t have to leave to get a good view.
Margerie Glacier is just to the west of Grand Pacific, and once would have fed right into it. Margerie’s toe is classic waterline glacier – deep blue with white, jagged tops, only the left side having any moraine on top. I think a full third of my photos taken today were trying to capture it in some form. I almost caught it calving, but miss the photo by mere seconds.
Otherwise, I ran around constantly. Mom managed to find me on the bow, finally deciding she was going to remove herself to the Crows Nest, if it wasn’t too cold (because the AC is always on too high in there).
Then we headed south, leaving the two glaciers behind. The Ruby Princess was emerging from the Johns Hopkings Inlet, turning north to take our place. We passed, passengers waving at each other. For a moment, it felt surreal, especially when these ships are massive at a human scale, and yet the ships are miniscule compared to the mountains surrounding them.
We turned into Johns Hopkins inlet, passing the fairly impressive Lamplugh Glacier without much fanfare – we were heading for something far more impressive. Yesterday, in the Glacier Bay briefing, the on-ship nature guide had mentioned that we would see the Johns Hopkins Glacier (the only glacier that’s still advancing in the area) as we passed Jaw Point, which he referred to as “Jaw Drop Point”. He wasn’t kidding.
The ship goes no further than the turn. Although the Inlet is likely deep enough, it’s probably too dangerous with submerged rocks, not to mention a significant amount of ice that floats in the bay, as the Johns Hopkins likely calves frequently. To be fair, though, I don’t think it would be much more majestic even if you got closer. Pictures really don’t do it justice.
John Hopkins is almost unbelievable. Gigantic, at the foot of the 10,000+ Mount Orville.
It felt like a lifetime and mere moments that we hovered at the elbow of the Inlet, the ice thumping into the hull as we slowly turned. Eventually, we began our return trip, back down the Inlet, out into the Bay.
Mom and I met for lunch in the Market. The Coffee Chat with the executive chef yesterday had mentioned the Indian food served today. And to his credit, it was legit and tasty. The only downside was the line was long. I guess word gets around.
We ate on the pool deck, which had floor to ceiling windows, and more importantly, seating. Not to mention not as crowded, and nearer to the bar.
The basic Wifi (which is included) is slow, painfully so. It’s basically broken, as far as I’m concerned, as the speed is so slow that most apps won’t behave properly. I couldn’t send a single picture of an otter on an ice floe to Choo Choo. Lightroom has now kicked me out and I can’t sign back in until I get to real data in Ketchikan. I can’t even open a single webpage. I can text and get email, which… yay? Someone’s done some right dodgy things to make an internet connection work that poorly.
Afterwards, I intended to patrol the Lower Promenade (the wrap-around outer deck) to see any other sights, but the weather – which had fortuitously improved for our glacier viewing – had turned. And my late bedtime/early wakeup tapped me on the shoulder. I went to bed.
The afternoon lazed along as we exited Glacier Bay into Icy Strait. But even that was slow progress, as (I think?) there are protected areas that require cruise ships to take it easy. We hung out in one of the side lounges on Deck 5. I had a drink that’s only served on the Glacier Bay day, and comes with a piece of glacial ice (which is marked as “sustainable” … I think Holland America is missing the point of global glacial retreat).
We had dinner in the Dining Room, the two of us at a table for six. We remarked at the folks in orange, all prepped for the Orange Party. As Holland America is a “Dutch” company, they like to play up on their heritage. Dress up in orange and have a ball. I wore brown.
It’s also to promote the Orange Club, their frequent cruiser program. As Mom pointed out, it’s classist. I personally couldn’t care less, let them have a ball. Following dinner, we ran as far away from them as we could: our room.
I read. Mom played solitaire on her iPad. Then she went to bed, me not too far behind.
