September 9, 2007 (Day Three): Juneau, Flying Through The Trees

Our third day on the Vision of the Seas was the day the excitement really started. After a day at sea watching islands slide by in the gloom, we finally made landfall in Juneau, Alaska. Our scheduled arrival in Juneau was 11 am; even after a day and a half of sailing we still had distance to go when morning came. We spent a couple of hours prior to arrival on the 'observatory' deck gazing north in our direction of travel, waiting for signs of actual civilization to come into view. After endless hours the previous day watching featureless mountains and islands on the horizon it was actually pretty exciting when we saw our first fishing boat and then a short while later spotted a little fishing cabin on a rocky beach. As we continued further north we finally spotted Juneau, less by its urban infrastructure than by the big cruise ships already in port. Juneau's not that big a town (although its geographic boundaries are immense, the town itself isn't).

For some reason, Royal Caribbean ships at Juneau stay at anchor in the channel and their passengers take tenders in. All the other cruise lines dock right at the pier. For this reason, we had to take a big bag containing everything we'd need with us; a 'quick trip' back to our cabin from onshore might have taken 30 minutes if we arrived right after a tender departed. Nonetheless, we were still excited when we set foot on shore after an uneventful tender ride. Jay had been to 48 US states prior to our cruise and even after a day of sailing in Alaskan waters didn't consider Alaska to be 'official' until he set foot on the pier in Juneau. (Now only Hawai'i awaits.)

Some passengers hadn't booked any shore excursions and just headed off into Juneau looking for 'bargains'. Not our idea of a good time, but if you enjoy getting off a giant mega-ship and browsing through tons of tacky t-shirt shops and jewelry emporiums selling tacky stuff done in an Alaskan motif but actually shipped in from Taiwan or God-only-knows where, Juneau (and also Skagway) are for you. We wanted adventure, and the most exciting, adventure-filled excursion listed on the ship's list was the 'Alaska Canopy Adventure', a trip along suspension bridges and ziplines through the woods near Juneau. Over a mile of ziplines, hanging eighty to a hundred feet in the air, mind you. As soon as we got to the dock we found a representative of the excursion company holding up the code we'd been told to look for and in no time at all we were riding a little jet boat across the Gastineau Channel to Douglas Island where the actual zipline course was located.

They made us take off virtually everything we had strapped on, our fanny packs and hats and bags and tripods and this and that and the other, and issued each of us a scary-looking harness, a pair of sturdy gloves, and a rugged red plastic helmet. Then we got on a six-wheeled ATV and headed off into the woods to the first platform. The first zipline was only a couple of feet off the ground; we were shown how there'd always be a guide at either end and one guide would clip your harness to the zipline, fasten it securely, and be there if you had any questions, and at the other end, a guide would see you safely onto the platform and unclip you. (When we say 'unclip', we should note that we were always secured from falling by either being attached to the actual zipline or to a safety line around the tree at each platform.) They showed us how to use one gloved hand to hold on to the runner as we zipped along, using gentle torque to twist it either left or right to keep us moving straight down the zipline, and how to use our other hand to gently tug downward on the zipline behind our heads as we neared the end to bring ourselves to a stop. Of the nine people in our little party, about half got the idea right away and the other half had some fun the first couple of ziplines grunting in frustration as they swung sideways or came to a stop a few feet shy of the platform. (They even showed us how to bring ourselves hand over hand along the zipline the last few feet if we did stop just short, and a couple of us had to make use of said lesson before all was said and done.)

Then we were off. It was enormous fun and it was all over far too quickly. Even though we were on the ziplines for an hour, much of that was waiting for it to be each person's turn to go, but it was still fun watching each person zip off into the distance or come zipping along the zipline toward you. Despite what you might think about it being scary because, hey, you're almost a hundred feet in the air, no one seemed to pay that much attention. You were too busy being aware of your forward motion and the trees on either side of you zipping by. You could look down as you went, but since you really didn't want to impact into the tree at the far end by not braking in time, most of us kept our looks down brief. Watch the video if you really want to see what it's like. At the end, they even gave us cool little medals and offered to sell us t-shirts, but we declined with thanks.

After that, we headed back to Juneau. We didn't have anything else we had to do until a scheduled salmon dinner excursion at 5:30, and it was only 2:00 pm, so we decided to go find a token geocache at the downtown Juneau visitor's center and drop off a little polar bear travel bug that friends in Vermont had given us to drop off for them.

Okay, that took until 2:45. Then what? Well, we knew that you don't absolutely have to schedule all your activities through the cruise line. Lots of people don't. One reason to do so is so you'll be going with a reputable tour operator (usually) and another is that if the tour operator runs into a delay the cruise line won't leave without you. If you get yourself stuck on an excursion that you arranged yourself, the cruise ship ain't necessarily waiting for you, you know? But you can go find your own operator if you know what you want to do and you have the time. They're thick as thieves near the pier.

Carole decided, therefore, that despite saying, back in Vermont, that she didn't really care if she saw a glacier while in Alaska, suddenly she did want to see a glacier and demanded we go book a seat on a bus up to see the Mendenhall Glacier, just outside town. The Mendenhall isn't exactly the world's biggest glacier; it's been retreating a lot in recent years. But all the passengers who hadn't found sufficient bargains bargains bargains to keep them busy in town and who wasn't engaged in a more active pursuit like a hike or a bicycle ride or a kayak trip were busily riding a fleet of buses up and down the road to the glacier. We had no trouble getting a couple of seats and before we knew it, we were at ...

If you've ever been to Yosemite National Park in mid-summer, you'll know that you can't photograph much of anything without forty-five numbskulled tourists walking right in front of you mid-shot. The crowds are so thick and the elbows are flying so fast that people eventually stop noticing that you're even there. And since everyone goes, and I mean everyone, regardless of race, color, creed, nationality, IQ, or total cluelessness, you find yourself faced with this giant seething sea of humanity, all getting in each other's way, all talking a mile a minute, all saying the dumbest things ("Why are the trails so steep???"), all shouting to be heard over everyone else, and after only a short period of time you find yourself wanting to get a big wiffle ball bat and just start smacking everyone in sight. No matter how patient and forbearing you might otherwise be.

The Mendenhall Glacier was pretty much like that. Zillions of tourists. It was a nice enough glacier and all, but not really as awe-inspiring as one would hope. From what we heard and read, even a few years ago it would have been a much more impressive sight. But, in any case, with all the humanity around, you just didn't get quite the same effect you'd have gotten if everyone had been quiet, orderly, and not all jabbering at once.

Fortunately, our schedule didn't allow us to spend a lot of time up there. We got there at 3:30 and had to be back on a bus at 4:30 so we could be back on the pier in time to go to our second prepaid scheduled shore excursion of the day, a dinner at the legendary Gold Creek Salmon Bake. I say "fortunately" our schedule didn't allow us to spend a lot of time up there because if we'd had more time we'd probably have done some of the additional things one can do there, like visiting the glacier visitor's center, hiking a trail or two, and so on. And as we did those things, we'd probably have had to cope with people talking loudly during the short film about the glacier, stepping right in front of us when we were reading signs, hitting us in the heads with balls they'd purchased in town and were flinging about, and so forth. And then we'd be in jail awaiting trial for laying a massive beatdown on all concerned. It was for the best, really.

We made it back to town with plenty of time to catch the bus back out of town to the legendary Gold Creek Salmon Bake. The Gold Creek Salmon Bake was the Lowest Common Denominator Shore Excursion, the choice of those people who couldn't even cope with the idea of a bus ride up to the glacier. Royal Caribbean had it on the ship's excursion schedule something like six times during the 9 hours we were scheduled to be in port. You could just do the Salmon Bake or you could combine it with virtually every other excursion. They had Ziplining and Salmon Bake. Bicycling and Salmon Bake. Hiking and Salmon Bake. We don't recall for sure, but we think that you might have been able to sign up for Salmon Bake and Salmon Bake. Carole wanted to eat some real Alaskan salmon while we were on the cruise and hadn't known that it would be offered as an optional dinner item virtually every night in the dining room, so we'd signed up for the last Salmon Bake slot of the day, at 5:30, and Jay insisted on our going. He didn't want to miss out on the magic and mystique of the legendary Gold Creek Salmon Bake when everyone else on board would probably be talking about it.

Okay, eh. It was nice enough. Big picnic area, with lots of tables and hardly anyone at them. It was late in the season and late in the day, and yet, a poor damned soul was still sitting in the center of it all with a guitar and a microphone, singing happy Alaskan-themed folk melodies to the ten to twenty cruise ship passengers who were in evidence. (One assumes that the big crowds had been by earlier in the day.) No one was listening but she never broke character, never said "Oh, for the love of Pete, pretend you're listening.") The food was good enough; Carole enjoyed the salmon and the slaw and Jay, who doesn't eat fish, had lots of chicken drumsticks and baked beans and cornbread. We each had some blueberry cake and Carole roasted a marshmallow at the firepit. We even wandered up a trail a ways to visit the waterfall the Salmon Bake team kept jabbering about on the public address system, stopped to greet a friendly Alaskan husky who appeared to work for the Salmon Bake crew, and then we headed back to the bus and rode back to Juneau proper.

Our last stop of the day was a trip to the "Alaska T-Shirt Company", right across from the pier. All day we'd seen people carrying immense bags full of reduced-price t-shirts (BARGAINS!), marked down since the end of the season was only a week or two away. (Two weeks later, Juneau would all but become a ghost town, we were told, and all the souvenir shops would close until spring.) Jay didn't really want to go near the place but Carole wanted to stop off and buy a refrigerator magnet. Fifteen minutes in that morass of humanity all swearing and struggling to get that perfect gift for their cousin back home and that neat-o 100% polyester hat with a salmon sticking out of either side and Carole suddenly said "forget this" and ran howling for the door.

After that, we shrugged, unable to think of anything else we wanted to do onshore, and tendered back to the ship. We'd skipped the dining room (it was casual night) and it looked like most other people did as well. The schedule for the other port days had us leaving port by suppertime, but with such a late scheduled arrival in Juneau and a scheduled 8:00 pm departure, everyone had stayed onshore as long as possible.

Once back in the stateroom, we stripped off our gear and put our things away, and then decided we were really just too darn tired to do anything else that night. Even though the evening's featured theater show, "Boogie Wonderland", sounded really world-class and all, we were going to have to be up early the next morning when the ship arrived in Skagway, Alaska. Our instructions said we needed to be on the pier in Skagway for our Glacier Lake Kayak Tour at 7:00 am. Translation: hit the sack.