Last Day on Board

When we arrived at breakfast everyone had been assigned to a guide, a skiff, and a time for departure for our last rainy cruise along the shore. Today we are in Misty Fiord, no need to explain the name. It was not a surprise to be in the land of waterfalls. The cliffs are sheer and as much as 2,000 to 3,000 feet high. Looking in each direction there is not one or two but a half dozen crashing into the surface of the sea, many of them appearing from the very tops of the cliffs and cascading section by section to the sea. Where that much water comes from twenty four hours a day, seven days a week baffles my mind. Every time we are talking to a guide our brains are crammed with the history, geology, flora, and fauna of the region. Although it is impossible to retain it all, we are leaving with a much better understanding of the "real Alaska".

 

With everyone back on board the anchor was pulled and we were to head through the fiords to a small cove called God's Pocket. Just as we got underway there was a bear sighting. The captain moved as close as possible, cut the engine and let us all watch the bear feed surrounded by pesky ravens. After an hour the bear rambled off and we resumed our journey.

 

Mike and I spent a couple of hours on the bridge watching the beautiful scenery pass by. The bridge has been open all week and we were encouraged to visit and stay as long as we desired. Both the captain and the first mate were happy to explain the equipment, the maps, and the secrets of navigation. Both of us were surprised to discover the main purpose of the large three foot diameter ship's wheel was to serve as a footrest for either Captain or First Mate; the ship was actually steered by rotating a small click wheel the size of a radio volume control. This was the only time that we traveled midday but it was carefully planned as all the crew agreed that these were the most awe inspiring miles of the week. The fiord was narrow and winding, rimmed by tall cliffs and wispy strips of fog created by the water spouting down the rocks. God's Pocket was a cove at the end of the fiord. There was a wide green meadow sans bear. We all lined the deck silently and reverently entranced by the view and the sounds of nature. Reversing back down the fiord we took in the sights from a new angle. The sky was beginning to darken as we drifted inside for our last communal dinner.

 

 

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