At Sea/ Hubbard Glacier

 At Sea/Hubbard Glacier

September 13, 2022

Another grey day. Grey seas, grey sky. The helicopter flights over the glacier have been canceled. The ceiling is just too low but the captain has promised that the four-mile visibility won’t hide our shipboard view of the Hubbard Glacier, one of the few advancing glaciers in Alaska and at 76 miles long, one of the largest in North America. 

The weather never improved as we approached the glacier. Really windy. Really rainy with very poor visibility. Everyone is just aiming their cameras over the bow and hoping something glacier-like appears in the pictures. 

We had to sail through a lot of chunks of  sea ice to get close enough to see the glacier. There’s a local pilot on board who makes the call if it’s safe to go through the ice fields. Rumor has it that our dockside neighbor from Seward, the Norwegian Jewel opted not to approach the glacier. Frankly, I don’t blame them. The weather is just awful. I remember previous trips when you had to wear a coat, hat and gloves for the cold but we all gathered on the foredeck in the sun and marveled at the immensity of the Hubbard Glacier. I guess we floated around for an hour or so. Every once in a while there was a loud boom indicating the glacier had “calved” which is when a chunk of the front edge separates and falls into the sea. Speed of light VS speed of sound means if you hear the boom you’ve already missed the calving.

Now we’re going back out into the Gulf of Alaska to reach Sitka by noon tomorrow. The captain has already warned us that we’re going to be heading into a 38 knot wind and choppy seas. This translates into “hang on!” It’s sort of like your dentist saying there might be a little discomfort. Uh oh

I’ve learned that if the heavy seas warning goes out, one should jump into the shower immediately before the motion gets too severe. I love that shower head but there are no grab bars in either the shower or bathroom so a bit of caution is a good thing.

We had our pre-ordered filets in the dining room for dinner. So good. Now we’re trying to think of something else we have a hankering for. Once again, re-entry into the real world is going to be abrupt and cruel so we need to take advantage of this “whatever you wish, Madam” stuff while we can!

The captain was right, when we left the bay and hit the open water the wind was screaming, the rain was pelting down and the seas were white with foam. I’ve forgotten what that would be on the Beaufort Scale. Let’s just call it nasty and leave it at that.

After so many calm days at sea, it’s time to tread carefully with “one hand for the ship.” Our cabin is located amidships and just a couple of decks up from the surface (thank you, dear Paula, our travel agent extraordinaire for reserving that suite) so the motion is pretty minimal. I went up to the Observation/Lobby which looks out over the deck and prow of the ship. Oh, my. Lots of motion up there. Up and down. Up and down. And I’m outta there. I don’t really get seasick anymore, but why take any chances?

I woke in the middle of the night and thought, Wow! I can really hear the ocean rushing by and My! Isn’t it a bit cool in here? I hadn’t completely locked the sliding glass door to the balcony and the movement of the ocean had opened it a few inches. How could that happen? That thing weighs a ton! Slammed that bad boy shut and locked it but good. Gotta respect the ocean.