We disembarked our pseudo-passengers on our last morning in Seattle. Since we weren't coming back to Seattle any time soon there was a last-minute scramble to department, grocery and hardware stores to purchase everything we could think of. For me it was a nice breath of free-time after two weeks of hard and busy work.
The whole crew was elated once we left. In addition to our regular crew of sixteen, we brought half a dozen folks with us for the repositioning trip. Our President/CEO, Captain Voss, the Project Manager for Explorer's refit, and several carpenters/electricians/engineers to help finish up the laundry lists of things to complete.
Underway, the schedule was easier on the galley staff than anyone else. One of the three of us would make crew breakfast; Angie spent time making cookie dough and breads to put in the freezer; several gourmet meals were prepared for the crew so we could get back into the swing of things and get our timing down with the new equipment. The bridge crew on the other hand, was taking shifts since we were running twenty-four hours a day. Tim Voss ended up with the night shift more often then not, but he still found time to let me beat him at scrabble a couple of times. Now ASC's Director of Operations, Tim was my captain for most of the first summer I worked for ASC, and though he's lecherous and has a sordid past (or maybe because of those things), he's one of the best people I know. He's well-read and very intelligent, and many of us refer to him simply as 'Big Daddy'.
We were able to stop by Buttedale, half-way through Canada along the inside passage. Now abandond, this old cannery looks like a haunted theme park, complete with a large dormitory, several stories high with all the windows broken out and a sizable tree now growing on the roof in addition to numerous houses and warehouses and docks. Many of the buildings and a good chunk of the dock have collapsed, some right into the water. A salty dude named Dale lives there as a caretaker with his dogs. Every time we stop by we always give him a care package with baked goods and fresh fruits. I've never met him, but I've fed him several times.
The last day before arriving in Juneau (a four day trip total) the crew all went on a hike together at a beautiful waterfall near Thomas Bay. A little book, "The Strangest Story Ever
Told," tells of the legendary half-otter half-men who are said to haunt the Bay. These "Kushtikas" are often joked about amongst the crew, being blamed for equipment malfunctions and the like. Cascade Creek has a torrent of water and makes for a lovely photo spot. Particularly amazing is how the trail wanders through a wind-swept bluff next to part of the falls, so hikers are regularly doused with a huge mist. The whole experience was very magical, especially at sunset, and helped our band of strangers bond a little more. At the top of the trail, just past the high, wooden foot-bridge (a bit scary if you're afraid of heights), I was able to stop for a moment and dip my hand into the rushing water. The extreme amount of air bubbles gave my hand a peculiar soft sensation, and I said my own version of a prayer to my wife (serene water places make me think of her).
Once we reached Juneau we had one last night of freedom. I spent most of it on the phone, and others were still busily trying to make the ship ready for passengers the next day. On each stateroom there was a yellow notepad paper list of all the tiny details still to be completed. We never got to all of them, but most people wouldn't notice them.
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