The day before we left Juneau, Carey and I braved the heights of Alaska Zipline Adventures. Accompanied by Beth, one of the Explorer's expedition leaders (also a veteran zipliner) we were vanned up into Douglas Island's ski area, outfitted with harnesses, caribeeners and helmets. Up a tree we went, and a couple flights of stairs later were standing on a wooden platform staring down a dizzyingly long cable stretching from our tree to the next tree. Most forty to sixty foot platforms have railing all around to prevent people from falling. This platform had one side of rail missing, which made sense since we were apparently supposed to jump off the platform (sliding along the cable of course). Beth went first since she had ziplined before, and I admit I had to keep myself from trembling as I took my turn. Each of the five ziplines lasts less than thirty seconds, but they were all thrilling and memorable. We became much more comfortable, and eventually standing on the platform seemed more frightening than being suspended in midair. The owners had built the ziplines over a beautiful creek and boasted an 'eco-friendly' tour - no trees were harmed in the production of this adventure.
The next day was a very early start. We had stayed up late the night before at the Alaskan Hotel visiting the nice people in the room next door. The fast ferry to Petersburg was leaving at 7:00 am, so we got a cab at 5:30 am since the Alaska Marine Highway website had indicated we needed to be there an hour early. Right after the catamaran hulled ferry left dock we nestled into our high backed chairs-with-a-view for a couple hours of napping. When we came to, our eyes drank in the sights. Even at forty-plus miles per hour the cruise was very enjoyable. We spotted some Humpback Whales and numerous Sea Lions, though they were usually a long way off.
we arrived in Petersburg hungry, and walked from the ferry terminal the 1/4 to 1/2 mile down the road to the Northern Lights Restaurant. Piling our two backpacks and four other miscellaneous bags onto the booth, then piling our many outer 'layers' on top of them, we enjoyed the waterfront view and mediocre food. Dave Burg of Viking Travel (another block down the road) has been shore support for American Safari Cruises for many years, and since he's a nice guy, and since I've known him for four years or so, he let us stash our stuff in his supply room for the afternoon. Meanwhile, we met up with a couple who had asked us to take a Seafood Processing tour with them (they needed four people minimum). The tour guide was none other than Patti, a jolly-rancher-sweet eighty year old woman who has been carting American Safari passengers around for years. Finally, I would get to see the tour all those cruise-goers had been seeing all this time.
The Norquest seafood processing plant was or is owned by Patti's family, and she had clearly led tours there more than a few times. She showed us the fish loading dock, processing line, flash freezer, and the salmon roe processing room. She answered all of our questions and made sure we weren't run over by the zooming, honking lift-trucks. After the tour we had a chance to chat with Patti and catch up on how everyone was doing and got big hugs when we said goodbye. At that point we were on our own for a while, so we cruised the main street, poking our head in shops, hanging out with Dave Burg, and buying some belated wedding presents for Trinity and Nathan, our newlywed hosts in Petersburg. Trinity and I had taken Spanish 102 together last semester, and she was spending her summer working at the Tree's Grocery and RV Park which her father built years ago. Since she wasn't off work until 7:00 pm, her husband Nathan met us at the North Dock where he was picking up some fresh Sockeye his grandparents had caught. We hopped in the little red truck (I rode in the bed with their German/Australian Sheperd named Turbo for want of cab space) and he drove us twelve blocks or so to Trinity's dad Larry's house. Larry was out of town for a few days, so we had the rent-free run of the place. Trinity showed up after work and we all had fresh salmon for dinner.
The next couple of days we hung out at Kito's Kave bar a lot, for wireless internet more than drinking. Between wireless internet, beer, a liquor store, two pool tables, occasional DJs, darts, and La Fonda Mexican restaurant and take-out, and friendly local and non-local folk, Kito's Kave has plenty to keep you busy for a while. I don't know the full story, but legend has it that many years ago the only murder Petersburg has ever witnessed happened on the front porch of Kito's Kave. Additionally, though mexican blankets have been hung over them since the restaurant opened, the dart board covers at Kito's are painted with naked ladies. Not really that noteworthy, but certainly part of the strange character of this fisherman's town. Friday we woke up to Nathan's rebuilding-the-back-deck noise, but when it started raining (as usual in the Southeast Alaska summer) Nathan came inside and the three of us spent much of the day playing Guitar Hero/Rock Band on the Playstation 2.
On Saturday, since Nathan has weekends off from his job doing construction work with his dad, Carey and I were treated to a tour of the Island in Trinity's brother's truck (more room than the little red one). Nathan drove us out to Three Lakes Road, a mostly paved journey. Once on Three Lakes Road, we had pavement again for a little while, and as we crested a small hill we spotted a large black bear standing in the road. We tried to creep up on it, but it ran off into the forest soon after. We slowed down as we came to where the black bear had disappeared, and sure enough, he had stopped at the edge of the woods, hiding in the underbrush. Maybe he wanted to catch a glimpse of the big white metal beast; we followed the rustling bushes with our eyes until he had disappeared. Then our journey continued; on to the garnet mine. Nathan explained that a garnet-rich vein of rock ran across this part of the island, under the sea, and all the way to Wrangell, and though it used to be OK to go pick garnets out of the soft rock by the creek, it was technically not allowed now. The owner of the mine was now operating it again and he alone possessed exclusive rights to take garnets from the area. Well, the road wasn't closed, and we managed to ignore the only sign discussing this new restrictive policy, so we reached the end of the road and headed towards the creek.
"You will get wet," Nathan says as we get out of the truck. This wouldn't be the last time Carey and I regretted not having the galosh style boots called Extra-Tuffs, so prominently worn in Southeast Alaskan fishing towns. So she in her hiking boots and I in my sneakers, followed Nathan down what amounted to a tiny creek/mud flow, which was narrow, steep, and overgrown with bushy plants loaded with rainwater. Towards the bottom of the trail, as we began to hear the water-over-rock noise of the creek, ropes had been staked into the ground to help garnet theives like us down the slippery, muddy slide. Nathan showed us how the chunks of rock had garnets embedded in them, like purple, gem-like rock zits. Popping them out occupied our attention for a time, while Nathan headed down the creek to find richer veins. After we'd collected a handful each (keep in mind, they weren't very valuable - not pure, high-quality gems by any means) I was surprised by an "excuse me" from up the slide. I turned to face a State Trooper with a calm but stern look about him. He motioned for me to climb up to him. Ooops.
Though everyone in town (especially Nathan) said this new State Trooper was a jerk and a son-of-a-bitch, he was fairly polite as he informed me that garnet collecting wasn't allowed. He confiscated my garnets, but gave back all the other rocks I had gathered. He did however ask an annoying bank of those horrible, parental sounding rhetorical questions. "Are you taking garnets here today?" Yeah, a couple, but mostly just looking around. "Do you have a right to these garnets?" Um, I don't know. "So, pretty much no." Um, no, I guess not. "Well the owner of the mining rights here is the only one allowed to extract garnets. Do you have his permission to take these today?" No. "Well, I'm going to have to ask you to empty your pockets, and leave this area." Okay. Sorry. I didn't know.
Well, we did know, but we thankfully didn't get a ticket or anything.
We headed for Hamer and Wikan Grocery Store to pick up supplies for a gourmet dinner. I wanted to make Elk stew for the gang, and though Duane nor Dan were in the meat department, the lady who was there took me back into the freezer to find the stash of elk I had ordered at the beginning of the summer. Such a great small town environment - I told her it was $11.95/pound and that they ring it up as bone-in chicken. "Okay, whatever," she says and off we go to Larry's house to start the stew. Carey started the fire in the wood stove to begin drying our shoes. Later we relocated to Larry's lady-friend Nina's house who had a spectacular kitchen. The stew came out beautifully, the mashed potatoes were frighteningly rich, and accordingly I kept the zucchini and carrots on the healthy side. Carey and Nathan had cut fresh rhubarb at Larry's and Carey made a fabulous Rhubarb crisp. Nina added to it with some vanilla ice cream and a bottle of Pear-Caramel sauce. I might not have lain in bed later, groaning with fullness of belly, except for the four or five glasses of red wine that accompanied the evening. Gourmet definitely isn't for sissies.
Too bad we had to get up at 5:30 am the next morning. But, despite the rain, fishing day was upon us, so we were happy to. Larry was working the convenience/liquor/coffee/laundromat/RV-park store for Trinity so she had the day off to play. The happy/sleepy couple and Turbo the dog arrived around 6:30 am, we packed our stuff and hitched up the fifteen foot skiff. Stopping for coffee, microwave breakfast burritos, and frozen bait (herring), we drove quite a while to get to Banana Point. Launching proved challenging. The tide was almost all the way out and the launch-ramp didn't go all the way to the water; rock flats were at the base of the launch and our skiff needed lots of help to become water-borne. So, though Trinity is a foot shorter and half my weight, we share the same shoe size and I was able to squeeze into her Extra-Tuffs to help Nathan launch the skiff. We backed the truck down as far as we dared, waded out as far as we could, and rocked and shoved the skiff loose. But, not before I hit a couple of mud holes, getting submerged almost to my knees. I dried Trinity's boots out as much as possible and we traded back. Fortunately I had brought two extra pairs of socks with me. They all got soaked by the end of the day.
From Banana Point, Nathan steered us towards Zarembo Island (don't ask me where that name came from - I have no idea). We zoomed along the aqua blue water, still, but for the splatters of rain, as Turbo alternated between huddling away from the cold and sticking his face into the rainy wind to sniff the air. We made for the reportedly Halibut rich waters of St. John's Bay, and anchored once we found a spot with the right depth. With no shelter on the skiff, the seasoned fishermen aboard were obvious; Trinity and Nathan were covered in rubber raingear from head to foot. Carey very quickly donned one of the full body, bright orange, survival oriented Mustang Suits. I had very wet sneakers (though I pulled my wool socks on around lunch-time) and rain pants and coat. Nathan taught us the basics of Halibut fishing, and in very little time I caught the first fish of the day. Too bad it was a tiny little junk-fish called a Bull-Head. Pretty or ugly, I couldn't decide. Nathan and Trinity were great fishing guides, rigging and baiting the leaders at the end of our thick poles. Carey got things really going when she caught a 108 lb. halibut - first halibut of the day! Though she caught the fish, I caught it on video. I'm sure if you navigate to her myspace website after this weekend, you can find the video there. We ended up catching three more halibut that day, albeit a half to a third the size of the first one. Nathan did all the work, snagging the lazy, drifting halibut with his gaff, hauling them as they suddenly started flopping out of the water and into the boat, knocking them on the head with the back of the gaff, and bleeding and gutting them. He dumped buckets of sea-water into the boat to slosh out all the halibut gore after each cleaning, letting the bilge pump evacuate the rinse. The weather got worse as the day went on. We had plans to have dinner at Trinity's mom Rose's house that night, so we headed back around 4:00 pm after a long, exhausting, and wonderful day of fishing. The bad weather knocked us around a little on the way back, making double sure we'd all be sore in the morning. Back at Larry's house, we had to keep the shower cool for a while until our extremities warmed up a bit. Even the warmish water made my fingers and toes tingle with un-numbing needles. We had a wonderful dinner, and cleaned and fletched the halibut on Rose's back deck. I can't wait until September when I'll finally get to eat some of our catch.
Now, onboard the not-fast-ferry Taku, Carey and I will be sleeping in the reclining chairs tonight, waiting for Sitka to arrive at 3:45 am.
P.S. We actually slept on the floor.
Tuesday, July 22, 2008
Thursday, July 17, 2008
From The Galley Sample
Here is a sample week of my menu on board the Safari Explorer. It tends to vary a little bit from week to week depending on what's available or what we ran out of.
From The Galley
Boarding Appetizers
Salmon Caviar
Orange Rosemary Mascarpone Dip
Fruit Platter
Dinner
First Course:
Smoked Tomato Bisque
From the Range:
Seared Rib-Eye Steak
Stilton Crumbles
Tobacco Onions
From the Sea:
with Garlic and Fresh Herbs
Accoutrement:
Mashed Sweet Potatoes
Zucchini and Summer Squash
Zucchini and Summer Squash
From The Galley
Breakfast
Apple Oat Pancakes
Grilled Pit-Ham Steak with Red-Eye Sauce
Parmesan and Gruyere Crusted Chicken Breast
Penne Pasta with Lemon-Caper Chardonnay Sauce
Steamed Mixed Vegetables
Cocktail Hour
Peel and Eat Alaskan Sidestripe Shrimp
Dinner
First Course:
Green Salad with Candied Walnuts
and Honey-Lemon Vinaigrette
From the Range:
Min Julep Leg of Lamb
From the Sea:
Steamed Alaskan King Crab
Accoutrement:
Citrus Cous Cous
Sautèed Spinach
Lemon Treasure Chest
From The Galley
Breakfast
Molasses-Oat French Toast with
Warm
Lunch
Grilled Panini
Rotisserie
Tomatoes and Lettuce
Fruit Salad
Honey Yogurt Poppy Seed Dressing
Cocktail Hour
Baked Brie with Puff Pastry
and Raspberry Puree
Dinner
First Course:
Green and Red Leaf Lettuce
Apples, Stilton, Honey-Lemon Dressing
From the Range:
“Bear Mace” NY Pepper Steak
Pecan Crusted Halibut
Blueberry and Cabernet Reduction
Smoked Cheddar Polenta
Steamed Broccoli
From The Galley
Brunch
Meatless Eggs Benedict
Smoked Cheddar and Caramelized Onion Quiche
Beet and Potato Rösti with
Orzo Pasta Salad
Caramelized Bacon
Minted Fresh Fruit Salad
Fresh Baked Sticky Buns
Cocktail Hour
Bagna Cauda Dipping Sauce
Dinner
Spinach Salad with Marinated Vegetables
Red Wine Vinaigrette
From the Range:
Hunter Style Braised Elk
From the Sea:
Two Fish in Phyllo
Halibut and Sockeye Salmon with Bernaise Sauce
over Sesame Veloute
Roasted Red Potatoes with Fluted Mushrooms
and Cherry Tomatoes
From The Galley
Breakfast
Strata Frittata
Fontina, Diced Reindeer Sausage, Red Onion
Thai Chicken Wraps
Chilled Rice Noodle and Vegetable Salad
Toasted Peanuts and Chopped Cilantro
Cocktail Hour
Fresh Hummus
Baba Ganooj
Fresh Baked Pita Bread
Dinner
First Course:
Creamed Carrot and White Bean Soup
From the Range:
Cranberry Cornbread Stuffed Pork Loin
Caramelized Onion and Apple Chutney
From the Sea:
Macadamia Rockfish with Mango Salsa
Toasted Coconut Cream
Accoutrement:
Roasted Butternut Squash
Sautèed Zucchini and Bell Peppers
From The Galley
Breakfast
Bay Shrimp, Cream Cheese,
Fresh Dill, and Green Onion
Lunch
BBQ Sampler Buffet
Grilled Marbled King Salmon with Honey-Soy Glaze
Carrot Gaufrette and Cabbage Slaw
Home-style Potato Salad
Chilled Watermelon
Cocktail Hour
Warm Spinach Dip
Puff Pastry Straws with Argentine Parmesan Fresh Oregano and Thyme
Dinner
First Course:
Coconut Curry Butternut Squash Soup
From the Range:
Duck Breast Caccittori
From the Sea:
Dungeness Stuffed Sockeye Salmon
with Citrus Beurre Blanc
Accoutrement:
Walnut Cranberry Rice
Caccittori Vegetable Julienne
From The Galley
Breakfast
Spinach and Feta Quiche
Lunch
Black and Bleu Bison Burger
or
Chicken Cordon Bleu Burger
Side Salad with Balsamic Vinaigrette
Cocktail Hour
‘Just Caught’ Dungeness Crab
Dinner
First Course:
Pacific Style Smoked Salmon Chowder
From the Range:
Filet Mignon
Brandied Peppercorn Demi-Glace
From the Sea:
Smoked Black Cod
Accoutrement:
Pesto Risotto with Toasted Pine-Nuts
Salt and Pepper Roasted Cauliflower
From The Galley
Breakfast
Croque Madame:
Challah Bread Griddled with Ham, Gruyere
Topped with Poached Eggs and Fontina Mornay Sauce
It has been our pleasure serving you.
- Angela Tack
- Shelly Hopson
Smiles Go A Long Way In Juneau
Stepping off the boat, up the gently sloping metal-grated dock-access bridge, I had to turn around several times to worry about my galley, my crew, my ship. Very quickly after the hesitant pause I turned back smiling to face my two week vacation. My wife's hand in mine, we walked towards the Alaskan Hotel.
Downtown Juneau is great and small - everything is a few blocks away. Littered throughout the numerous gift shops and bustling sidewalks of cruise-goers, there are plenty of bars, enough restaurants, and various other diversions to keep Carey and I entertained for several days.
Just before we walked into the oldest Hotel in Alaska (established Sept. 13th, 1913) I spotted a familiar face across the street. Drew, a friend from the UAA Debate Squad was walking along brightly and we hugged in surprise greeting. The chance meeting was brought about by Drew's employment at the Alaska Democratic Party office in Anchorage. They flew him to Juneau the day before to film Alaska's Senator Ted Stevens. Always a good idea to film guys like Ted Stevens. We parted quickly as he bobbed down the street to meet some friends over coffee.
At the Alaskan Hotel desk, we had a nice long chat with Chuck. Chuck is a writer and former Psychologist who pays the bills by working the hotel desk. He served up some interesting tidbits about the Alaskan Hotel. As late as 1957, legal prostitution was the hotel's main attraction. Chuck claimed that there's been live music in the bar on the ground floor every night for something like seventy years. Prostitution still went on after its prohibition here until 1974 or 1975. Chuck was chuckling as he shared the reason for the continued outlawed trade; a political battle between the conservative Mayor and the un-scrupulous Chief of Police kept Juneau's other goldmines running for many years. John Wayne reportedly visited the hotel (pre-1974) and graced the stairs with his own stumbling-down-them.
Carey and I booked a room with two beds that Chuck said, "most people would push together." We were one of the lucky patrons with a private bathroom in our very own room. Since we were located towards the back of the hotel, the live band amid bar sounds were dull and distant. The open window made more noise than the bar; rain splattered on wood and concrete outside with big drops channeling down the many broad green leaves of summer, making an occasional puncuated 'slap' sound against the drizzle. Sleep came slowly with the worry of my galley, my crew, my ship, and my next menu, beginning two weeks from that day.
I rested better than any night in recent sleepy memory, and soon realized I had slept past my usual breakfast cereal by two hours.
Good morning Chuck.
"Oh, hey, the sane people, Carey and Phil, right? You wouldn't believe how many crazies we get in this hotel."
"How ya' doin'?"
"Good, you know..."
"We like our room."
"Oh good."
"We're headed to breakfast."
"Okay, you want my suggestion? Go to Costa's."
"Where's that?"
"You know the 'Y' junction of streets at the end of the block..."
"Yeah."
"...to the left is Front Street..."
"Okay."
"...take a left at the next block...blue building at the seaplane dock..."
"Yeah, okay, I think I know."
"...yeah, it's right there - great place. Local place."
And let me tell you about a wonderment and truly good breakfast. Get a mug off the the wall, get your coffee - ground fresh and brewed in aluminum bottomed diner standard coffee pots. Write down your order on a notepad and place on the counter - in order - left to right - no order hopping allowed. Inside Costa's - menu includes a kick ball game announcement, biscuits and gravy, corned beef hash, breakfast mashers, banana walnut pancakes, tomato soup and grilled cheese, piled high reuben sandwich, and more. If you forget to specify what kind of toast, you don't get toast on your plate. If that happens you can ask for it, and tip a bit more if you feel bad. Add up your own total, and deposit your cash in the copper bucket. If you need change, just take your change out of the copper bucket. Fan-friggin'-tastic.
Food wass good with a little love from the condiment bar and S&P shakers. Good coffee - one time fee of $1.00. One large eight-ish capacity table, funky decor (to say the least), 4 person bar seating on stools, and a squeezed-in feeling two-top in the restaurant. There's ice cream and fresh griddled waffle cones we noticed on the way out; also noticed two picnic looking four-tops outside the big blue building's mall-way hallway. Yeah, hey Wal-Mart, rollback that into your imported pipe and smoke it. Nothing beats a small town.
That day we walked, pin-ball moving across willy-nilly, knick-knacky, and sassy-tacky shops in Juneau. Clearance-d and stacked, expensive and handcrafted, carved or furry, ornate to simple, some wretched and wonderful, some perfect and breath taking. One just doesn't seem to mind all the rain. Dinner was Sushi . . . again. Finally Carey has taken a liking to sushi. That means I get to eat it too! We chatted with Choy, the sushi artist. He's been here eight years, married about that long, roughly our age, and like us is thinking of having kids in the next year. His tasty Sea Salad and Squid Salad were amazing - and on-the-house.
Later that night we poked our heads into the bustling Alaskan Hotel Bar. A good twangy bluegrass act was playing, but we didn't stay (too tired for drinkin'). Outside, an inebriated fellow was lecturing a bum-looking guy on how to shape up his life.
Good night Juneau.
Downtown Juneau is great and small - everything is a few blocks away. Littered throughout the numerous gift shops and bustling sidewalks of cruise-goers, there are plenty of bars, enough restaurants, and various other diversions to keep Carey and I entertained for several days.
Just before we walked into the oldest Hotel in Alaska (established Sept. 13th, 1913) I spotted a familiar face across the street. Drew, a friend from the UAA Debate Squad was walking along brightly and we hugged in surprise greeting. The chance meeting was brought about by Drew's employment at the Alaska Democratic Party office in Anchorage. They flew him to Juneau the day before to film Alaska's Senator Ted Stevens. Always a good idea to film guys like Ted Stevens. We parted quickly as he bobbed down the street to meet some friends over coffee.
At the Alaskan Hotel desk, we had a nice long chat with Chuck. Chuck is a writer and former Psychologist who pays the bills by working the hotel desk. He served up some interesting tidbits about the Alaskan Hotel. As late as 1957, legal prostitution was the hotel's main attraction. Chuck claimed that there's been live music in the bar on the ground floor every night for something like seventy years. Prostitution still went on after its prohibition here until 1974 or 1975. Chuck was chuckling as he shared the reason for the continued outlawed trade; a political battle between the conservative Mayor and the un-scrupulous Chief of Police kept Juneau's other goldmines running for many years. John Wayne reportedly visited the hotel (pre-1974) and graced the stairs with his own stumbling-down-them.
Carey and I booked a room with two beds that Chuck said, "most people would push together." We were one of the lucky patrons with a private bathroom in our very own room. Since we were located towards the back of the hotel, the live band amid bar sounds were dull and distant. The open window made more noise than the bar; rain splattered on wood and concrete outside with big drops channeling down the many broad green leaves of summer, making an occasional puncuated 'slap' sound against the drizzle. Sleep came slowly with the worry of my galley, my crew, my ship, and my next menu, beginning two weeks from that day.
I rested better than any night in recent sleepy memory, and soon realized I had slept past my usual breakfast cereal by two hours.
Good morning Chuck.
"Oh, hey, the sane people, Carey and Phil, right? You wouldn't believe how many crazies we get in this hotel."
"How ya' doin'?"
"Good, you know..."
"We like our room."
"Oh good."
"We're headed to breakfast."
"Okay, you want my suggestion? Go to Costa's."
"Where's that?"
"You know the 'Y' junction of streets at the end of the block..."
"Yeah."
"...to the left is Front Street..."
"Okay."
"...take a left at the next block...blue building at the seaplane dock..."
"Yeah, okay, I think I know."
"...yeah, it's right there - great place. Local place."
And let me tell you about a wonderment and truly good breakfast. Get a mug off the the wall, get your coffee - ground fresh and brewed in aluminum bottomed diner standard coffee pots. Write down your order on a notepad and place on the counter - in order - left to right - no order hopping allowed. Inside Costa's - menu includes a kick ball game announcement, biscuits and gravy, corned beef hash, breakfast mashers, banana walnut pancakes, tomato soup and grilled cheese, piled high reuben sandwich, and more. If you forget to specify what kind of toast, you don't get toast on your plate. If that happens you can ask for it, and tip a bit more if you feel bad. Add up your own total, and deposit your cash in the copper bucket. If you need change, just take your change out of the copper bucket. Fan-friggin'-tastic.
Food wass good with a little love from the condiment bar and S&P shakers. Good coffee - one time fee of $1.00. One large eight-ish capacity table, funky decor (to say the least), 4 person bar seating on stools, and a squeezed-in feeling two-top in the restaurant. There's ice cream and fresh griddled waffle cones we noticed on the way out; also noticed two picnic looking four-tops outside the big blue building's mall-way hallway. Yeah, hey Wal-Mart, rollback that into your imported pipe and smoke it. Nothing beats a small town.
That day we walked, pin-ball moving across willy-nilly, knick-knacky, and sassy-tacky shops in Juneau. Clearance-d and stacked, expensive and handcrafted, carved or furry, ornate to simple, some wretched and wonderful, some perfect and breath taking. One just doesn't seem to mind all the rain. Dinner was Sushi . . . again. Finally Carey has taken a liking to sushi. That means I get to eat it too! We chatted with Choy, the sushi artist. He's been here eight years, married about that long, roughly our age, and like us is thinking of having kids in the next year. His tasty Sea Salad and Squid Salad were amazing - and on-the-house.
Later that night we poked our heads into the bustling Alaskan Hotel Bar. A good twangy bluegrass act was playing, but we didn't stay (too tired for drinkin'). Outside, an inebriated fellow was lecturing a bum-looking guy on how to shape up his life.
Good night Juneau.
Wednesday, July 16, 2008
Lost at Sea
Writing now in the Juneau Public Library, a few days into my vacation, I'm having to retrace the last few hectic weeks aboard the Explorer. I must write down these nuggety crouton stories before they stale. As Angie left to work on the Quest, then Shelly for her two-week vacation, my workload changed and story-time fell by the wayside.
However, I've left my notebook at the Alaskan Hotel. Memory serves?
We made an impressive go of the Galley Rave a couple weeks ago. My relief chef, Mike, had his first week with Shelly and I. He's THE guy for the job, and I'm happy that I'll be leaving the galley in good hands, both this vacation and at the end of the season when I finally come home to stay. For his first Galley Rave, I thought it was important to go all out, so while in Petersburg on Wednesday we did some extra Galley Rave shopping. We hit the pharmacy for the Dora the Explorer Accoutrement, splurging a little by buying the Dora zipper-pulls and Go Diego Go slap-on wrist bands. Next we dropped twenty-four big ones at the Salvation Army and bought a crazy/silly t-shirt for every crew member. Highlights of the purchase included: three matching tank-tops with stylized fish in bright colors on the front of each, a family network care t-shirt, a striped polyester number with big, decorative nautical patches (a lighthouse, a boat, a seascape), a Juneau "Rain-Ball" t-shirt, and a tye-dye t-shirt. For myself, I picked up a UAA Hockey t-shirt, a tight polyester collared shirt, and some plaid boxer's (I hate wearing pants to Galley Rave). Shelly made Dora gift bags that afternoon, stuffing each with a bracelet or zipper pull, a t-shirt appropriate for the crew member, and an invitation. She also took the cake in the t-shirt department, picking for herself the little pink "Have you hugged my shirt today?" number. Obviously after all this effort, we outdid ourselves in attendance. Most crew showed up with additional wigs and things, and we even went so far as to play Twister. Captain Shonda took first prize there. Aimee added some rips to her tye-dye, and she wasn't the only one showing off a bit. A smashing success!
The week saw me take a different role in the galley. Mike took the helm, and my new baker, Monica, learned quickly to adapt to a totally new cooking experience. Though we tried to tone down the language a bit, but didn't. She actually taught us a few things to our surprise. Monica has kids my and Mike's age, so despite our antics, we were endearing to her. There were some teens on board and I was jovial as we all decorated my first Glacier cake together. Since Monica was green, it fell to me to carry on the glacier cake tradition. Don't have photos yet, but hopefully soon. So in the absence of evidence, let me just say the cake turned out mind-bogglingly amazing. Real glaciers are larger, sure, but hardly more beautiful than our pile of chocolate on chocolate on chocolate. The powdered sugar snow, the Rosemary Sitka Spruce trees, the edible Chocolate Rocks, and the blue-tinted White Chocolate Glacier flow are all more exciting than the real thing, in my humble opinion.
This same week, when I was guiding (and trying not to be Mr. Short-Timer/Slacker) and helping with Mike and Monica's products, we had our most amazing adventure yet. At La Conte Glacier which spills into Tracy Arm (I think) the passengers were taking skiff rides up the arm and right up to the glacier. Towards the end of the evening, the bridge staff decided we should have a crew-only skiff ride. 'Count me in!' Little did we know...
...The great thing about a crew-only skiff ride is our freedom to be loud, zany, and uncensored. One other skiff was still in the water, not far from us, but we kept our distance (especially since our skiff had a smoking section and we were frequently yelling nonsense at the top of our lungs). It was evening, past 9:30, but still plenty of daylight and twilight to suite our purposes. After buzzing at top speed through the lightly choppy water, we came upon our first ice burg. Gabe wanted to touch it, and Beth obliged by pulling the skiff in as close as she dared. Well, we pretty much ran into it, but the skiff stayed inflated, and Gabe touched the ice burg. First mission accomplished. Shortly afterward, we tried to depart to go see La Conte Glacier. Tried, but failed, as our engine began sputtering and making a whiny beeping sound. They killed the engine to examine it more closely for problems. The problems didn't get better. Eventually, with the outboard motor casing off, and with Kevin our Assistant Engineer digging with flashlights and tools, we discovered a hose clamp in a state of kaput. Right around this time, the second skiff, with passengers (and Aimee) pulled up. They had noticed we were drifting and probably wondered why. There were jokes about being stranded and adrift, and we learned the true meaning of jealousy as we found out that the passengers had encouraged and assisted Aimee in actually LICKING AN ICE BURG! Oddly, her tongue didn't get stuck to it - guess that's just metal that does that. We tried to save face in front of the passengers, and our skiff leader, Megan, tried not to seem too pissed that she was in charge of a stranded, drifting boat with a crappy hose clamp. They left, Sean the first mate promising to return. We kept entertaining ourselves as we drifted closer to shore. Megan grabbed one of the oars and began paddling - though just for effect. We turned on the emergency strobe - usually reserved solely for Galley Raves - and hoped Sean would be able to find us easily after off-loading the guests. Meanwhile our intrepid experts - Beth, Megan, and Kevin - tried to repair the leaking gas line with a nylon lanyard from one of the VHF radios. They partially succeeded. Then we ran out of gas. Then we waited some more...
Finally, we were rescued with more gas from Sean, and proceeded to huddle for warmth on the fast and long-awaited ride home. The guests at the bar cheered our return and I headed straight for the warmth and comfort of my bunk.
At the end of that week, we had an interesting time with our weekly rendition of Table Side Bananas Foster. It was Monica's first time making Bananas Foster, and her first time cooking table side in front of people. Fortunately the Bananas Foster song I've developed over the weeks has become more and more adaptable to changing circumstances. Though I patter her on the back afterwards, Monica felt a little chagrined at dropping not one, but two pats of butter on the floor right off the bat. I incorporated these strategic changes into my song, and may have even convinced a few people that she dropped the butter intentionally and with great care. Since we'd had a busy day (indeed, a busy week!) we hadn't had much of a chance to rehearse the ignition of the alcohol, so with my musical instructions from the piano bench, and with Mike's lead on the other burner next to her, Monica got a healthy flame to ignite. Out come the Stewards with complete fire-suites, oxygen tanks, and extinguishers in hand, and 'clap' go all hands in the dining room. Another week done and main mission accomplished.
After five weeks of work, we were relieved to disembark passengers and not have new ones coming that day. Without bookings, were looking forward to spending the week at dock and re-defining 'ship-shape.' This would be a new experience for me, and a great opportunity to quit flying by the seat of our pants for a while. Our project list included: cleaning, cleaning, organizing, organizing, and shopping (for equipment). Oh, and I got to finally clean under the flat top griddle (which I shorted out of existence - but that's a whole other story) and under the stove itself (which is a whole other story I probably won't go into detail about).
Next: hurry up and wait for Monday morning when I get to pick Carey up, and hopefully not freak her out with the insanity of a boat crew with free-time. Can't wait.
However, I've left my notebook at the Alaskan Hotel. Memory serves?
We made an impressive go of the Galley Rave a couple weeks ago. My relief chef, Mike, had his first week with Shelly and I. He's THE guy for the job, and I'm happy that I'll be leaving the galley in good hands, both this vacation and at the end of the season when I finally come home to stay. For his first Galley Rave, I thought it was important to go all out, so while in Petersburg on Wednesday we did some extra Galley Rave shopping. We hit the pharmacy for the Dora the Explorer Accoutrement, splurging a little by buying the Dora zipper-pulls and Go Diego Go slap-on wrist bands. Next we dropped twenty-four big ones at the Salvation Army and bought a crazy/silly t-shirt for every crew member. Highlights of the purchase included: three matching tank-tops with stylized fish in bright colors on the front of each, a family network care t-shirt, a striped polyester number with big, decorative nautical patches (a lighthouse, a boat, a seascape), a Juneau "Rain-Ball" t-shirt, and a tye-dye t-shirt. For myself, I picked up a UAA Hockey t-shirt, a tight polyester collared shirt, and some plaid boxer's (I hate wearing pants to Galley Rave). Shelly made Dora gift bags that afternoon, stuffing each with a bracelet or zipper pull, a t-shirt appropriate for the crew member, and an invitation. She also took the cake in the t-shirt department, picking for herself the little pink "Have you hugged my shirt today?" number. Obviously after all this effort, we outdid ourselves in attendance. Most crew showed up with additional wigs and things, and we even went so far as to play Twister. Captain Shonda took first prize there. Aimee added some rips to her tye-dye, and she wasn't the only one showing off a bit. A smashing success!
The week saw me take a different role in the galley. Mike took the helm, and my new baker, Monica, learned quickly to adapt to a totally new cooking experience. Though we tried to tone down the language a bit, but didn't. She actually taught us a few things to our surprise. Monica has kids my and Mike's age, so despite our antics, we were endearing to her. There were some teens on board and I was jovial as we all decorated my first Glacier cake together. Since Monica was green, it fell to me to carry on the glacier cake tradition. Don't have photos yet, but hopefully soon. So in the absence of evidence, let me just say the cake turned out mind-bogglingly amazing. Real glaciers are larger, sure, but hardly more beautiful than our pile of chocolate on chocolate on chocolate. The powdered sugar snow, the Rosemary Sitka Spruce trees, the edible Chocolate Rocks, and the blue-tinted White Chocolate Glacier flow are all more exciting than the real thing, in my humble opinion.
This same week, when I was guiding (and trying not to be Mr. Short-Timer/Slacker) and helping with Mike and Monica's products, we had our most amazing adventure yet. At La Conte Glacier which spills into Tracy Arm (I think) the passengers were taking skiff rides up the arm and right up to the glacier. Towards the end of the evening, the bridge staff decided we should have a crew-only skiff ride. 'Count me in!' Little did we know...
...The great thing about a crew-only skiff ride is our freedom to be loud, zany, and uncensored. One other skiff was still in the water, not far from us, but we kept our distance (especially since our skiff had a smoking section and we were frequently yelling nonsense at the top of our lungs). It was evening, past 9:30, but still plenty of daylight and twilight to suite our purposes. After buzzing at top speed through the lightly choppy water, we came upon our first ice burg. Gabe wanted to touch it, and Beth obliged by pulling the skiff in as close as she dared. Well, we pretty much ran into it, but the skiff stayed inflated, and Gabe touched the ice burg. First mission accomplished. Shortly afterward, we tried to depart to go see La Conte Glacier. Tried, but failed, as our engine began sputtering and making a whiny beeping sound. They killed the engine to examine it more closely for problems. The problems didn't get better. Eventually, with the outboard motor casing off, and with Kevin our Assistant Engineer digging with flashlights and tools, we discovered a hose clamp in a state of kaput. Right around this time, the second skiff, with passengers (and Aimee) pulled up. They had noticed we were drifting and probably wondered why. There were jokes about being stranded and adrift, and we learned the true meaning of jealousy as we found out that the passengers had encouraged and assisted Aimee in actually LICKING AN ICE BURG! Oddly, her tongue didn't get stuck to it - guess that's just metal that does that. We tried to save face in front of the passengers, and our skiff leader, Megan, tried not to seem too pissed that she was in charge of a stranded, drifting boat with a crappy hose clamp. They left, Sean the first mate promising to return. We kept entertaining ourselves as we drifted closer to shore. Megan grabbed one of the oars and began paddling - though just for effect. We turned on the emergency strobe - usually reserved solely for Galley Raves - and hoped Sean would be able to find us easily after off-loading the guests. Meanwhile our intrepid experts - Beth, Megan, and Kevin - tried to repair the leaking gas line with a nylon lanyard from one of the VHF radios. They partially succeeded. Then we ran out of gas. Then we waited some more...
Finally, we were rescued with more gas from Sean, and proceeded to huddle for warmth on the fast and long-awaited ride home. The guests at the bar cheered our return and I headed straight for the warmth and comfort of my bunk.
At the end of that week, we had an interesting time with our weekly rendition of Table Side Bananas Foster. It was Monica's first time making Bananas Foster, and her first time cooking table side in front of people. Fortunately the Bananas Foster song I've developed over the weeks has become more and more adaptable to changing circumstances. Though I patter her on the back afterwards, Monica felt a little chagrined at dropping not one, but two pats of butter on the floor right off the bat. I incorporated these strategic changes into my song, and may have even convinced a few people that she dropped the butter intentionally and with great care. Since we'd had a busy day (indeed, a busy week!) we hadn't had much of a chance to rehearse the ignition of the alcohol, so with my musical instructions from the piano bench, and with Mike's lead on the other burner next to her, Monica got a healthy flame to ignite. Out come the Stewards with complete fire-suites, oxygen tanks, and extinguishers in hand, and 'clap' go all hands in the dining room. Another week done and main mission accomplished.
After five weeks of work, we were relieved to disembark passengers and not have new ones coming that day. Without bookings, were looking forward to spending the week at dock and re-defining 'ship-shape.' This would be a new experience for me, and a great opportunity to quit flying by the seat of our pants for a while. Our project list included: cleaning, cleaning, organizing, organizing, and shopping (for equipment). Oh, and I got to finally clean under the flat top griddle (which I shorted out of existence - but that's a whole other story) and under the stove itself (which is a whole other story I probably won't go into detail about).
Next: hurry up and wait for Monday morning when I get to pick Carey up, and hopefully not freak her out with the insanity of a boat crew with free-time. Can't wait.
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