On Our Way Home

August 8, Saturday

We are back in the lower 48, tired and driving, headed for the barn. The rest of our sea faring adventure went without a hitch, with a stop in Ketchican, first city of Alaska. We had calm seas through to Bellingham, with a 6:30am arrival. Super fun with kids.  

The ferry was fun, a novelty. The kids busied themselves driving us crazy, running all over, torturing everyone in their path. Tough to wear them out in limited space. I tried to send them on scavenger hunts around the ship, but clearly they needed some more incentive, like candy or prizes. Pre-planning has not been my forte.  

We disembarked to a sunny, cloud strewn skies and a very cute Bellingham. As we were heading out of town Reese commented that all the license plates were Washington plates. We had seen so many different plates in Alaska. He then asked if there was a National Park in Washington, to which I replied Olympic National Park. He said, 'that's where all the different plates will be'. 

Another difference we noticed right away is how dry it is, even here. Grasses lining the highway are the golden color of late summer, something we had yet to witness.  And the van!  After two weeks of not traveling I turned to Rich and asked 'is it always this loud?'  Part of it is the road, but the din is something get accustomed to again. 

And our hearts?  The kids are anxious to see their friends again, that is all I can get out of them. Rich and I are torn between being ready to stop living out of bags and being rooted. I am going to miss the french fries, as we have been on a french fry and IPA tour. I won't miss eating the same thing at restaurants all the time. Having to cook every night will be a big adjustment. My heart is ready to be home, among my friends and family. I am not looking forward to planning, managing, multitasking. The beauty of looking forward only a day or two is overlooked in our society. As is being out of cell service. Even now, driving down I-5 I am not burning to get on Facebook, call or text. I want to savor the last few hours travel however good or bad they may be. I will check back in a week or so and let you know how that goes. 

And just when you are lulled into a sense of complacency ......WHAMMO!  After an all too brief visit with our dear friends Jay and Erika we headed out I-90 for Boise. The kids were screaming as we drove out of the city, we were climbing the pass as the temperature gauge started to climb as well. We made a brief stop once before calling it quits at the top, complete with smoke billowing out of the engine compartment.  We quickly exposed the engine and I lead the kids off to the conveniently located microbrewery where we ate too many nachos while Rich dealt with the van. The regaled the outdoor seating area with their rock climbing and jumping prowess while we waited. Down off the pass after adding water we appear to be okay, but pushing the envelope. Home may be in site, but it may not be tonight.  Fortunately we are well seasoned at taking it one day at a time

We are limping home without a radiator fan, windows open and heater running. The kids don't seem to mind, in the back seat where I can no longer hear them. If I thought the van was loud before it is now deafening. Ninety decibels according to an app on Rich's phone. The sun is shining in my window as we have yet to turn south. Every ascent is a breath holding affair, as if we are trying to be lighter, and the van doesn't need to work as hard. 

As we approach Le Grande OR the sun sets behind us and the gloam eases in. I close my windows and brave some heat, the decibel level drops and conversation is possible. Our headlights still don't work, so we are using only running lights unless no one is about. We'll be home tonight, late. The kids are hooked up to the iPads watching the same shows they've watched all summer without a care in the world. When we passed through Yakima and it's golden grass hills Reese looked up and asked if we were at Bruneau Sand Dunes. As we left Boise, so we return, right? Slightly broken, but excited about what tomorrow has to offer. 

Ahoy! From M/V Kennicott

August 5, Wednesday  

Aboard the M/V Kennicott, the one of the largest of the Alaska Marine Highway fleet at 382 ft long, on our way to the Outside, as Alaskans call it. We boarded in the light at 10:45pm after fanangaling with boxes and bikes to meet our 19 ft requirement. It was quite the scene, Rich and I removing bikes, mounting part of the bike rack on top of the van, moving boxes and trays from outside to inside. We were in line to get on the ferry at this point, Reese and Ruby riding their bikes among parked and moving cars, running around like banshees after a long day of errands. 

We weren't in our berth (4 beds, bathroom, linens and towels provided) until midnight and not asleep until 1am. Long day. I was still tired after waking at 10:30 this morning.

The Kennicott is big, with the top floor housing folks in the solarium where they sleep in lawn chairs or put up tents. They share bathrooms and showers. There are various types of cabins on the next three floors, ranging from single berths with shared bathrooms to four person berths with private bathrooms. We are in the interior, no window. Makes for good sleeping, but we would prefer an outside berth with a window. 

People gather in the forward lounge, on computers, doing puzzles, chatting, on computers. The theater shows two or three movies a day. There is a cafeteria and lounge that no longer serves alcohol. One can only imagine. You can have purchase beer or wine with meals or drink discreetly--stated as drinking in your cabin. 

Ruby has made friends already, and Reese only wants to play Munchin, a fantasy D&D type thing he played nonstop on the Babkin with the boys.  My drive to reach out and connect with others has been dampened by our week in PWS. Or perhaps I haven't spied any of my people, not that I don't enjoy hearing others' stories. I still try to pick out friends for Reese and Ruby though.

We crossed the Gulf of Alaska without view of land to stop in Yakatat, a fishing town only accessible by boat or plane. Rich's introduction to 

Alaska was here and we wandered around, marveling at the changes, which were few. The dock had been repaired and shored up, the Mallot General Store still standing after 65 years.  The Lieutenant Governor is Byron Mallot, of the same store. The fog had lifted, the kids got to run and yell and throw rocks in the ocean. It was a brief and nice break from the ferry. 

Today we head into Juneau for a brief visit. Our ocean experience has effected by our week in Prince William Sound. While we are mildly interested in whales and the outside of ferry, we have had such a wonderful experience already the ocean is not as interesting.  We still have our binoculars, and we love to watch the boat dock but we aren't scanning the ocean for 'blows' indicating whales. Not yet at least. 

Prince William Sound

August 1, Saturday

We are headed into Whittier after a spectacular week on PWS. We explored and played in rain, sun, clouds. We had it all. It did not stop us from hiking, paddling SUPs and kayaks, searching out whales or catching fish. We had a few days where we saw no one. 

There were nineteen of us on two boats, five of those ten years and younger. Old family, new family, blood family. We all pitched in and cooked, did dishes, filleted halibut (we caught seven over 24 hours) dropped shrimp pots, pulled shrimp pots, took kids and dogs (there were three) to shore, trolled for salmon, caught spawning salmon by hand--and teeth!, filleted salmon, loaded and unloaded kayaks, harvested glacier ice, chased whales---our days were full!  We didn't get started until nine or so and we were lucky if the kids were in bed by eleven at night, with the sun setting. 

Reese lucked out and caught the first fish--a tom cod and the only salmon--a pink and a silver. He got skunked on the halibut but all our freezers are full. The boys were obsessed for much of the trip. Ruby liked the moon jellies-non stinging translucent creatures that looked like flowers or beating hearts with four chambers. 

The glaciers changed the weather and water temperature. Harbor seals followed us like bad spies, ducking beneath the surface when you looked behind your kayak. Dark eyes in sleek faces, so curious and cute. Reese and George put on survival suits and jumped in the frigid water and clambered around on an iceberg. The Chenega Glacier creaked and roared as it calved. Glaciers seem to be a reoccurring theme on our trip. 

Sea otter, sea lions, porpoises, birds that fly and swim. Orcas, two families one with a baby. And humpback whales. We were so fortunate to see breeching, slapping pectoral fins, tail slapping seventeen times from one whale. Magical. 

The week has been magical. I don't think it could have gone better. The pictures don't do it justice, just sayin'. 

J