Summer vacation, day 14

Heading back to San Francisco.

We were woken this morning by Marie, frantically texting us from the kids' cabin next door. Craig had gone to get hot chocolate, and Frank, as usual, was passed out and unarousable. So she texted me.

They'd apparently gotten in late from the teen club, and she'd fallen asleep in her dress. While tossing and turning during the night, the dress had gotten wrapped around part of the metal bedframe, trapping her. And she really had to pee.

Unable to alert Frank, she used her phone to get help. I answered her the only way I could think of.

This morning, while scrolling through the day's activities on my phone, I saw this:

"I had no idea they had a Wiimote fleshlight attachment"

That sort of wording certainly gets your attention. Frank was horribly disappointed when he went to watch, only to find it was some octogenarians playing Wii tennis.


Someone was having a private party, and staff were wheeling trays of food from the kitchen to their suite. I saw this interesting item go by:

"Um, balls?"

I have to say, one really nice thing about this cruise line at dinner is that they don’t have the waiters doing a musical number every night. This is one of my pet peeves. If I want singing and dancing waitstaff, I’ll go to a restaurant that has them. But I don’t. So I’m glad that this line, unlike Carnival, doesn’t do that (NOTE: they did it on the very last night of the cruise, after I wrote this. But I can live with once).



After dinner, Mom, Frank, and I went to hold seats  for the evening's show. As we worked our way down a row the ship began rocking, and Mom grabbed the back of a chair to steady herself. To her horror there was a loud "CRACK" and the wooden decorative piece over the back of the chair came loose in her hand.

So there we were, with Mom (not knowing her own strength) holding the broken-off back of the chair and surprised people staring at us. She quickly set the back of the chair on the floor behind it and moved on, trying to act like nothing had happened. This wasn't easy, because as she did so "Amish Paradise" started blasting from Frank's back pocket.

"What's this on our room charges for a new theater chair?"

Summer Vacation, day 13

This afternoon they had a balloon drop in the ship's atrium.

They announced that some of the balloons would have prizes in them, so the floor under the net was packed with people ready to kill each other for whatever meaningless trinkets were in them. It looked like it could get ugly. It may be the only time some of these people would ever use the Ulu knives they'd just bought.

And, of course, the twins were down there somewhere, ready to kill for a cheap lanyard. I stood up on the 7th floor to watch.

After the appointed countdown, the free-for-all began. With balloons popped and the blood spilt, the twins were jumping up and down with something they'd managed to snag (I was sort of hoping it was Mrs. Bitchy's wallet).

They came running up the stairs with a rolled-up paper with a rubber band around it. Had we won a free cruise? A chance to drive the boat? Dinner at the deluxe restaurant? We carefully opened it.

It was a coupon for $15 off a $280 spa package.

Craig spilled my Diet Coke all over it. We left the mess there and went for ice cream.


Teenage boys are an interesting species to travel with, primarily for their ability to giggle and point out certain patterns they see

In nature:

 

Near the theater stage: 

 Even in the dining room breadbasket:

We got a starter of fried calamari tonight. I thought it was good, but Frank (at least he was brave enough to try it) didn’t like it, and spit it into his napkin.

There’s an old trick of hanging a spoon on the end of your nose, and for whatever reason, in the formal dining room tonight, my kids felt the need to practice it. The boys weren’t particularly successful, but Marie got it right. The trick ends when the spoon inevitably falls off... and in this case it went down the front of her dress and got caught in her bra.

Without thinking she pulled down her shirt to get it, exposing her developing cleavage to those around us. A kid at the Limoncello table stopped singing "Happy Groundhog Day" and yelled "TOM! LOOK!"

Craig, being a gentlemanly brother, graciously grabbed a napkin off the table to help cover her up. Unfortunately, it was Frank's napkin, and sent his hunk of chewed calamari flying down after the spoon. Marie screamed and jumped up, knocking her chair backwards with a crash. The spoon landed on the floor. The piece of masticated squid bounced onto the table. Craig spilled his water. Frank stood up as his phone started playing Amish Paradise. Marie, in frantically trying to pull her shirt back up, somehow unhooked her bra, and it fell down under her dress. She grabbed it off the floor and ran to the restroom, crashing into Parmesan-cheese-grater-guy.

Sigh.

There’s a line in the 1981 movie “The Four Seasons” where, following a fight between 2 men kicking a taxidermied moose head into a fireplace, Rita Moreno asks aloud “I wonder what other people do on their vacations?”

This is one of those moments that I ask the same thing.

Summer vacation, Day 12

Today, on the return leg south, we sailed into Victoria.

This is required by the Jones Act of 1920, which is still in effect. Basically, ships that aren't constructed or flagged in the U.S. (which is pretty much only 1 active cruise ship on Earth) have to stop in at least 1 non-U.S. port before returning to their point of departure.

Personally I have no problem with this, mainly because it means we get to visit either Prince Rupert or Victoria, both of which are lovely. Unfortunately, due to the distance back to San Francisco, the stop is only a few hours. So we caught a bus into town.

On the way in we passed a gift shop:

"Well, it does get your attention."

And a school:

"Hey, is that Cartman?"

And the ubiquitous A-word:

Wandering around we went through the venerable Empress Hotel, past parliament, and down to the water before heading back to the ship. The kids bought some crap and, of course, posed at the local curbside stuffed animal.

After dropping things off in the cabins, we went to lunch. Frank didn't show up, but I knew there'd been another late party in the teen lounge. I found him obtunded napping in the kids' room, where the steward had carefully set up Marie's stuffed animals.

"He has a pulse, and appears to be breathing."

And yes, that thing in the mirror really is a lava lamp. I know it's not uncommon to travel with a nightlight, but my kids insist on bringing a small lava lamp with them everywhere we go.



Each table in the dining room has 2 attendants, the waiter and the assistant waiter.

"Always two there are, a master and an apprentice."

 
The waiter is generally in charge of taking orders, making meal suggestions, bringing out the main course and dessert, chatting with you, and (for some) arguing about Ranch dressing. The assistant waiter is learning to be a waiter, and brings salads, clears dishes, keeps the bread basket and water glasses full, and other stuff.

This includes waving a pepper grinder over everything that’s put in front of you. Our assistant waiter clearly had no idea of what Americans do or don’t want pepper on, as he offered it to me over soup, salad, entrees, desserts, coffee, bread rolls, the butter tray... pretty much everything. If he wasn’t trying to pepper it, he was stalking me with a Parmesan grater. Due to his aggressive attempts to add flavoring, he became the only non-family member to spill the water. He was trying to pepper Marie's Bucket-O-Ranch when Frank's phone startled him by answering, and he bumped into the glass.

Leaving the dining room tonight, Marie handed me a mint (Grumpy's law: if someone offers you a breath mint, take it). To my surprise, the mints were Bipolar.

"Are they made with Lithium?"

Summer vacation, day 11

The cabins, like most, have a set of light switches by the door and another next to the bed. On this ship they were at the pillow level behind the bed, where they were easy to bump into. As a result it was not uncommon to stretch or roll over at 2:00 a.m. and suddenly be woken by all the lights to flip  on and blind you. This also caused the interesting phenomenon of walking by cabins of newlyweds and seeing a strobe light effect flickering under the door.


One nice thing about a cruise, if you're into this sort of thing, is that you never have to go too long without alcohol. Walking down to breakfast this sign greets you:

Now they actually have a plan where, for roughly $60 per day, you have unlimited access to alcohol. Not being much of an ethanol consumer, I'm perfectly happy with the $7/day all-you-can-chug Diet Coke card. Because I know I'm going to come out ahead on that one.


Today was the ship’s Egg Drop Challenge. This is something Marie cannot resist doing, so she signed up. The rules were pretty simple, though one in particular caught my eye:

"Wait, what does 'self-distructing' mean?"

Seriously? “Hey, Suzy's baby is chunky. Let’s duct tape the egg to him.”

Craig commented “You have to wonder how many people actually tried this before they decided to ban it.” Walking down to the contest I had images of someone tossing an Irish Setter with an egg strapped to it off the 7th floor balcony.

Some of these things were remarkably elaborate. One family had a shoe-box painted to look like a totem pole, and had attached "wings" on the side made of inflated rubber gloves they'd gotten from housekeeping. These people were SERIOUS. How serious? I'd noticed them testing this thing a few days ago by tossing it off the railing 2 floors above the aft pool.

Another team, lower tech, had taken a duffel bag filled with dirty clothes and stuck the egg in it.

Marie's gadget consisted of the egg surrounded by a proprietary mixture of shredded toilet paper and peanut butter, packed in the middle of 2 paper cups and wrapped with duct tape (yes she'd brought a roll of duct tape on the trip).

Her egg survived, but so did many others. So, when it was all over the winner was decided by having the audience applaud for whoever the cutest looking team was. Which inevitably ends up being either Golden Girl types or little kids. In this case it was the little kids who took home the water bottles.


After this high-stakes competition, I decided to go relax in the hot tub (you guys know how much I love hot tubs). Unfortunately, the ones in the adults-only “Sanctuary” area were full, and the mid-ship ones were full of small kids and the water was kind of yellowish. So I went out to the pair on the fantail. They were delightfully empty, with only a few people in each one.

I was in there about 15 minutes when I noticed the temperature around me was dropping. At first I thought we were sailing into a colder area, then realized they were draining the hot tub... with me in it.

The rest of the tub denizens noticed this about the same time I did, and we all dragged ourselves out. Not a crewman was in sight to bitch to, or ask “WTF ARE YOU DOING?,” or to have, say, warned us in advance that they were going to empty the tubs under us. Thanks, guys.


I went to a talk on Alaskan wildlife today. When they opened the floor for questions, one guy in a baseball cap with a fake dog turd on the brim asked "how old is a deer when it becomes a moose?"


Tonight, after dinner, our waiter brought me a coffee cup, and said, “be careful, the cup is very hot.” I thought he said “the coffee is hot” and couldn’t understand why the cup would be (actually, I still don’t understand that). So I picked up the cup to look in it, and, as advertised, the cup was PRETTY DAMN HOT. I dropped it back on the saucer with a loud CLANG, and the waiter looked at me with a “you’re a moron” gaze.

I don’t blame him, either.

Summer vacation, day 10

Today we were at sea.

As I walked through the atrium, the instrumental due were cranking out a medley of Queen’s greatest hits on accordion and violin. They were on “Fat Bottomed Girls” when I went by. It certainly summarizes the increased girth of all cruisers at this point, male and female. There’s an old joke in the industry that you board as a passenger and leave as cargo.


Toward noon I got my iPad to check in with the office. Running the immense Grumpy Neurological Emporium is a 24/7 job, even when I'm on vacation.

WiFi on board a cruise ship is NOT what you think it is. It’s more like slightly advanced dial-up. And they charge you for it. A LOT. Rates on board a cruise are usually 30 cents per minute and up, and it takes you a lot more time to do stuff than it does at home. And it frequently cuts out, requiring you to log back in. It's high on the list of shipboard frustrations. In spite of this, we still can't get Frank's phone to shut-up.


Tonight Craig ordered prawns for dinner. He likes shrimp, and since the waiter described prawns as “big shrimp” he thought that sounded just awesome.

The first sign that our dinner was about to go horribly wrong was when the waiter whisked the covering off Craig's plate, revealing the cooked prawns beneath. They looked nothing like the shrimp he’d expected. Craig screamed and jumped up in his chair, knocking over the guy with the pepper grinder, and began yelling “MOM! MOM! OH MY GOD MOM! THEY HAVE LEGS! OH MY GOD! LEGS! THEY HAVE EYES, TOO! MOMMMMMMMM!"

We were not anticipating this. AT ALL.

The family next to us stopped singing “Happy Whatever” and (briefly) set down their Limoncello.

Marie spilled her water.

Frank’s phone began playing “Amish Paradise.”

Our waited showed why he deserved a good tip. In a single motion he covered the plate up and removed it from the table, saying, “I will bring you a cheeseburger.” Craig was fine with that. Marie asked for more Ranch dressing.

They have what they call "movies under the stars." This means they put some flick on the poolside Jumbotron, and people can lay out on chairs and watch it.

This would be great... in the Caribbean. But at night at sea here the temps drop down into the 30's, and the wind blasts across the deck with enough strength to push your testicles into your chest (trust me on that one). So the deck chairs are empty, the movie is blasting, and 2 bored stewards are sitting there trying to hand coffee and blankets to anyone who might look vaguely interested in watching.

Because my kids are incapable of telling dirty clothes from clean ones, my wife went into their cabin tonight to collect laundry from the floor and stuff it in a suitcase. Unfortunately, this resulted in a frantic Craig beating down our door at 1:00 a.m. when he returned from teen club and immediately assumed the steward had, for unknown reasons, stolen their smelly clothes.

Summer vacation, day 9

Today we pulled into Ketchikan. The harbor was packed with ships, so much so that we had to anchor off shore and take the ship's boats to and from port. In these situations the boats are called tenders. In an emergency they're called lifeboats.

Because I'm a ship nerd, I had a lot of fun watching them set the whole thing up, swinging the boats out and lowering them into the water.

Yes, I know I'm pathetic

In Ketchikan it rains 364.7 days out of the year (365.7 in leap years) and true to form, it was raining heavily. A number of locals made the point that what we had today was just a light rain.

So we went ashore, where you learn all kinds of interesting things about Alaskan liquor laws:

Have another, Frank. We may not be back here until you can buy it yourself.

At the corner of the bar was a wooden beam. Because it stuck out under the railing it received a lot of rain, with the result that plants had taken root:

We walked around. Standing at this point I overhead one of the other tourists (Mr. Macho) say: "They have handicapped people here, too? I thought this was Alaska."

Because of the rain the stores had rolled their giant stuffed animal photo-stops inside, but this place had replaced theirs with a plastic one:

Pretend it's a stuffed moose, Marie.

Again, we wandered around the usual selection of stores selling Alaska shirts, hats, baseball caps, jackets, ulu knives, socks, wood carvings of moose, Burt’s Bees stuff, ulu knives, selfie sticks, picture frames, keychains, and ulu knives. I sort of just follow along, and pay the bills. I mean, it’s not like you expect one store is going to have anything different from another.

Here's some examples of what you can buy:

"Honey, do you think a Hog would fit in the suitcase?"

"Can't wait to wear this to singles night."

After wandering around for a while we went on a Duck tour. For those unfamiliar, it involves being driven around the city in an amphibious bus, which then drives into the bay and boats you around the harbor (in some cities they’re called Seal tours).

The tour immediately got off to a good start when we encountered our favorite leather purse... Mrs. Bitchy. She had a bag full of souvenir shit on the empty seat next to her, and refused to move it so my Mom could sit down. Even when told to do so by the skipper she refused, arguing that, by paying for a ticket, she was entitled to an extra seat for her packages. Eventually she ended up leaving the bus/boat and getting a refund, but not before flipping all of us the bird.

We passed this place:

"Screw you and your copyrighted name."

As we cruised around the harbor we went by a fish processing plant on the dock. The water around the building was covered in white froth, which our guide explained was “leftover liquefied fish parts.” I thought Craig was going to barf. Frank's phone said "I've found 17 fish restaurants nearby."

We passed what looked like a closed fast-food place... As it turned out that's exactly what it was. The guide explained that corporate IQ types, none of whom lived locally, thought a waterfront fast-food drive-thru would be a big hit. Failing to take local warnings into account, they built it. The problem was that the drive-thru was located where high waterfront winds can blast through at 50-70 mph and carry a lot of water with them, making it pretty damn hard to hear orders, pay for them, or hand over bags of food. So it was a remarkably short lived venture. After dealing with them in healthcare, it's nice to know the corporate types are equally stupid elsewhere.


Ketchikan is also where Alaska's only recipient (to date) of the U.S. Medal of Honor lived out his final years, retiring to a boat in the harbor. He served in WWII, Korea, and Vietnam.

Back on the ship that afternoon, they had a presentation by the chief engineer and his assistant on the engineering aspects of the ship. Being fascinated with this kind of thing, I showed up. Comically, there was a delay because neither of them could figure out how to work the slide projector. It got even better when the ship’s 2nd officer got lost on his way to give the “navigation at sea” talk.

My favorite question of the afternoon came after they explained how the ship distilled all it's own fresh water from sea water. Some guy stood up and said "how come they don't use this method in places like deserts, that are far from the sea?" The engineers looked at each other, pretended not to hear the question, and moved on.

Tonight at teen club they had a pick-up line contest. My boys, showing their remarkable skill at understanding girls, tried “Did you just fart? Because you blew me away.”

Summer vacation, day 8

Heading south from Skagway you pass Vanderbilt Reef in the middle of the channel. It's a small, rocky, outcropping, with a visibility marker.

576 miles away, and much higher, is Denali, the tallest mountain in North America. It's 20,310 feet high, and the distance from base-to-peak (18,000 feet) is the highest of any mountain in the world entirely above sea level (yes Everest, that includes you).

It was first climbed in 1913, by a 4-man expedition of Hudson Stuck, Harry Karstens, Walter Harper, and Robert Tatum. Stuck, the leader, felt very strongly that the first man to reach the giant's summit should be a native Alaskan. Walter Harper was the son of a Koyukon mother and Irish immigrant. His father abandoned the family when Walter was 2, and the boy was raised by the tribe.

Walter Harper

In the early 20th century there were no roads in the area, and walking was the only way across the arctic terrain.

After a 3 month hike through the Alaskan wilds, then up the mountain, Walter Harper, age 20, became the first man to set foot on top of Denali, followed moments later by the rest of the expedition. It was June 7, 1913. Tatum described the view as "looking out of a window of heaven."

After the history-making climb, Harper returned to his regular job and continued his education. In 1918, at age 25, he was accepted to medical school in Philadelphia, and that same year married Frances Wells. Hudson Stuck, now an archdeacon, officiated at the ceremony.

For their honeymoon they planned to travel from Skagway to Seattle, then cross-country to Philadelphia for him to continue his studies. On October 23 they left Skagway on the S.S. Princess Sophia. 

They sailed into one of the northwest's greatest tragedies. In a story I've told before, the steamer struck Vanderbilt Reef in a gale, with the loss of all 343 on board. The only survivor was a dog. Walter and Francis Harpers' bodies were recovered, and buried together in Juneau.

_____________________________________________________________


The ship has a twice-daily program with the cruise directors. It is, I swear, called “The Wake Show,” which sounds more like coverage of funerals. It consists of William, the cruise director, talking about stuff on board while Lindsay (the assistant cruise director) nods and smiles. You get the impression he could be talking, cheerfully, about a huge engine fire that killed half the crew and she’d be smiling and nodding. Actually, I wonder if these were taped in advance, before we even left port, with a different pre-packaged one for each day of the trip. “Boy, wasn’t that a fun day in Sicily, Alaska? Plenty of sunshine!” after it was raining all day. It wasn't quite as much fun as the disastrous "Good Morning with Goose" show on our 2009 cruise, but still unintentionally entertaining.

As we headed off to breakfast, Mrs. Grumpy frantically ran back to the cabin to make the bed. She habitually does this EVERY day on EVERY trip for reasons that I still don’t understand. When asked she says “I don’t want the maid to think I’m a slob.” As a result, wherever we go the staff must believe we spend our evenings passed out on a bench (or deck chair) somewhere.


Today we sailed through Glacier Bay National Park.

Since it's a federal nature preserve, we had to stop to pick up a team of U.S. Park Service rangers to guide the ship. While getting coffee at a stand near to the purser’s desk, Mom and I overheard them talking about the number of passengers on board and how much the ship’s charges were to get into a National Park (several thousand dollars). My mother, trying to be helpful, rummaged around in her purse and pulled out her Park Service Golden Eagle pass. She handed it to the purser and said “this gets me in for free, I think it will take $10 off the total, if that helps.”


Then we slowly cruised through the fjord. It was spectacular, and sad to think that in my kids' lifetime (if not mine) these things won't exist anymore. It was sleeting on & off, but that didn't keep us inside. So we got soaked.

Look, people, I'm not Ansel Adams. You want real nature photography? Go to a gallery.

We went back inside for lunch. By the midship pool is a grill that serves standard hamburger & hot dog type fare, with a daily special. Today the special was the grilled halibut sandwich, or “halibut burger” as the chalkboard said.

So I was in line with Frank to get a burger, when the guy in front of us put on a remarkable display of stupidity.

Idiot: “What’s the halibut burger?”

Counter guy: “It’s grilled halibut on a hamburger bun, with lettuce.”

Idiot: “It doesn’t have a burger on it?”

Counter guy: “No, sir, just the halibut filet.”

Idiot: “That may be more than I want... I’ll have the halibut hot dog instead.”

Counter guy: “We don’t have a halibut hot dog. Just the burger.”

Idiot: “Well, if you have a halibut burger, shouldn’t you have a halibut hot dog, too? Like a smaller piece of halibut rolled up on a hot dog bun?”

Counter guy: “Well, I can cut the filet in half and serve it on a hot dog bun.”

Idiot: “Never mind, I’ll just go to the buffet.”

And people wonder why American travelers have a reputation as clods.


Walking back to our cabin to change, we passed the floor’s laundry room. There were 3 kids in there doing their family’s wash. I made sure to tell my kids this, to make them appreciate us more.

You can have the crew do your laundry for you. They have a bag in your cabin closet that you fill up, and it's $10-$20 per bag to get it cleaned. The bag, however, is about the size of one you'd pack your lunch sandwich in. So unless you want to do laundry, or have the ability to compress your undies to the subatomic scale, just bring more clothes.


This evening they had “Shipboard Idol” where anyone with enough confidence and/or alcohol could belt out a number and hope to go on to the finals on the last night. They did this 3-4 times during the cruise, resulting in some horribly untalented people trying repeatedly, thinking they’d be better next time. This is the musical equivalent of putting rotten milk back in the fridge hoping it will freshen up.

Some people were legitimately talented, but most were not. The highlight was a guy named Victor, who every night showed up to belt out a Sinatra tune, each time apparently believing the audience would see the remarkable talent that was so obvious to him. He gets an “A” for effort... But that’s about it.

The lady who feels the need to belt out “Memories,” from Cats, is on this ship, too. WHY? I have never been on a cruise, EVER, that didn’t have this woman.

The worst performer of the whole trip was a guy who picked the Beatles’ “Happiness is a Warm Gun.” Before starting he said he’d seen the name in the ship’s songbook, and thought it sounded cool.

Unfortunately, this is absolutely one of the WORST pieces to do if you’re unfamiliar with it, as it’s a sequence of surprising chord and lyric changes (Lennon actually combined 3 different pieces when writing it). So this guy was frantically trying to keep up with the unfamiliar, and rapidly changing, music. His inability to do so was so profound that, about halfway through, his horribly embarrassed wife climbed on stage, grabbed the microphone from him, handed it to the nearest staff member, and walked out.

Summer vacation, day 7

Funny thing about cruise ships... You see people wandering around with food combinations you’d likely NEVER see on land. You’re in the elevator with a guy carrying a tray of ice cream sundaes and Heinekens. Or pass someone with a tray of burgers, fries, calamari, and sushi. Or pizza, margaritas, and a bowl of corn flakes.

There's an awesome dude who works the breakfast buffet. He stands there and hands out trays and silverware as you go in. But what sets him apart is this: instead of just handing it to you and smiling, he runs through a routine. "The time is now 8:54 a.m. on September 25, 2015. Weather today is a high of 62, low of 39, with 20% chance of rain. And it's time for your breakfast." He was so good at keeping up on the time and forecast I meant to ask him for stock quotes and baseball scores.

Today we were in Skagway. This is a charming place where Craig and his hair were thrilled to find a Starbucks within walking distance of the dock. He's following in my religious beliefs as a Caffeineatarian, though we currently belong to different branches.

Like other cruise-ship-driven economies, the place had kitschy gift shops and jewelry stores everywhere.

I do not understand the jewelry store thing AT ALL. You encounter this in every cruise town, regardless of country. Apparently there are people who have nothing better to do then travel to fascinating places to walk into something as exotic as a jewelry store that carries stuff similar to what you can buy at home at the mall for half as much. I don’t know if this is a bizarre human trait or just an American cultural thing.

This ship, like others we’ve been on, has someone who is the professional shopper. This is a person whose entire line of work consists of shopping and telling other people which stores to go to (generally the ones who’ve paid a “promotional fee” (aka kickback) to the cruise line. This ship, in fact, had TWO of them. A husband and wife duo who looked like they stepped off a wedding cake. So, to recap: This pair is paid to live on a cruise ship and take people shopping. Their room and food are included. Where can I sign up?

Of course, this town also had a photo stop:

"He's friendlier than our last waiter."

We took a bus tour across the Alaskan panhandle into Canada, marveling at the remarkable scenery. At one point Frank noticed the tops of the tall roadside poles were painted electric yellow-orange, and asked about it. The guide told him that was so the snowplows could locate the road under 15 feet of snow in the winter. Even with the snowy winters we get in Grumpyville, the kids were in awe at that, and kept craning their necks to see the markings.

The tour guide talked about the Alaskan Gold Rush at length, repeatedly focusing on how many horses died during it. He finally stopped when Marie began bawling.

The view along the road was spectacular, with waterfalls, greenery, towering mountains, and just a slight amount of fog. I decided to try the iPhone's "Panorama" feature, but then Craig walked in front of me.

"It's, um, very Avant Garde, dad"

The tour continued inland for a while, then turned around and came back to the international border. I began getting out our passports as we pulled up to the guardhouse, figuring they'd ask for them. Looking over I realized the Canadian guardhouse on the other side of the road was empty, and the guy in a Canadian uniform was in the U.S. hut playing cards with the American guard. Détente, North American style.

The guy in the U.S. uniform set down his cards, took a swig of coffee, and came over to the window.

Guard: "Morning, Pete."

Driver: "Hey, Steve. How you doing?" (Canadian guard waves) "Hi, Phil."

Guard: "You have pancakes with Mike this morning?"

Driver: "Yeah, we both had to be up early. Several ships in today."

The Canadian guard looked up at a tour bus coming down his side of the road and waved them through as he refilled his coffee.

Guard: "Glad you guys are keeping busy. You be back later?"

Driver: "Yep. This is the first of 5 tours today. You need anything from town?"

Guard: "Could you grab me a pastrami and chips? I left my lunch at home."

Driver: "Sure. You got enough soda here? Or need some?"

Guard: "Nah, Phil and I split a case of Diet Coke yesterday."

Driver: "Sounds good. See you later."

We continued on.

After the tour I stopped at the station to divest myself of some Diet Coke, and found I was looking at this sign:

Back in town the boys were under the impression this historical place was offering a different kind of tour:

There was also this interesting exterior made up of sticks nearby:

And another photo stop:

Years ago we were on a cruise that stopped in Sitka. I miss that, as I guess the big ships don’t go there. It was a neat little place without (as of 2005) too much of the tourist crap that you see all over Juneau, Skagway, and Ketchikan. And, even cooler, is this: by land area, it’s the biggest city in the U.S. More than 6 times the size of Los Angeles, more than 9 times the size of New York, and with a population of roughly 10,000. So it's a great place to live if you like a lot of distance between you and your neighbors.

Actually, for those of you hoping to say “I’ll take ‘Biggest American Cities by area’ for $500, Alex” keep this in mind: The 4 biggest U.S. cities by area are ALL in Alaska: Sitka, Juneau, Wrangell, and Anchorage. Interesting factoid there.


After returning to the ship, Mom and I went to play trivia, something we tend to do at every opportunity (trivia & game shows of various types are a 2-3 a day thing on most cruises). We both like it. Most sessions are about 30 minutes, and you’re only playing for bragging rights. It would be nice if they gave you a free cruise or tour, but they’re not. So they give out chintzy trophies, key chains, water bottles, chip clips, and or lanyards.

Usually they’re run by 1-2 members of the cruise director's staff. These are attractive, late 20's to early 30's genetically engineered Replicants designed to always be happy, hyper, and smiling. I imagine they’re kept in a special room where, between shifts, they receive intravenous Prozac and triple-strength espresso.

The guy who usually ran the trivia was Mickey. I have no idea where he was from. His English was quite good, but his accent was such that he pronounced the word “focus” as, hysterically “fuck us.” Which probably made him the least ideal choice to run trivia.

“Try to focus on the question.”

“The answer will come if you focus.”

“Everyone focus on the screen.”

It was pretty hard not to crack up. Since I spend my days in the office doing that, I’d left the ability at home, and kept snickering.

Some people, for whatever reason, take shipboard trivia seriously. One question had Elvis Presley as the answer. A group misspelled his last name as Pressley, with the result being that a guy in a Metallica T-shirt held up the game complaining that the team with the incorrect spelling should be disqualified.

Dude, chill. You're playing for a cheap made-in-China water bottle.

Summer vacation, day 6

The ship's newsletter today had a note today asking passengers to “refrain from leaving the water running or balcony door open when not in the staterooms.” REALLY? There are people doing this? WHY? If we were in warmer climes I could understand the balcony thing... but here it’s in the 30’s-40’s.


There was a late-night video game party in the teen lounge last night. When Frank didn't show up for breakfast I went to the kids' room. He was out cold, surrounded by Marie's stuffed animals.

"Gag, corneals, and doll's eyes all work. But nothing to sternal rub."

Today we were in Juneau. Not being in any particular rush to get into town, we waited until after all the other passengers left, and crew went on shore leave. Walking down the dock we noticed Peter getting off the ship.


From a cruise-ship view, everywhere you stop is basically a dock next to a row of T-shirt and jewelry stores, and somewhere behind them is a city. This is a near-universal constant. Someday it will apply to colonies on Mars, too. And beyond.


On the dock there was also a memorial to the cruiser U.S.S. Juneau, lost at Guadalcanal during WWII. Out of her crew of 700, 600 went down with her. Of the remaining 100, only 10 of them survived until they were found 8 days later, the rest lost to the elements and sharks. Her casualty list included the 5 Sullivan brothers.

I'm amazed how many restaurants in these cities cater to the cruise crowd. I mean, you're dealing with people who have access to unlimited amounts of reasonably good food each day, covering pretty much anything that's commonly eaten from land, air, and sea. The places have seafood? So does the ship. Alcohol? Ditto. Burgers? Yep. Steaks? Of course.

There are even shore excursions where - get this - you pay $55 per person to be taken to an all-you-can-eat salmon bake. Considering that at any given moment salmon is available at the ship's buffet, cooked-to-order grill, and formal dining room... I just don't understand this. But I'm not exactly a partial crowd because I am the only person on Earth who doesn't like salmon. But still, the point remains.

Apparently it's a state law in Alaska that at least one gift store have a large fake animal in front to be used as a photo spot. So here's one from Juneau:
 

They have an interesting feature called stair-streets. These are not streets you can drive down, but rather stairs ascending on each side to reach houses there. They are, however, mapped and numbered as streets and have addresses on them. I imagine this makes being a postman here a rather vigorous job, and is also a serious incentive not to forget your car keys.

We walked around for a bit. Craig had decided that, besides water and oxygen, he needed a selfie-stick. Not having ever wanted one, I hadn't shopped for one before. I figured it would be simple:

1. Find a selfie-stick.

2. Buy it.

3. Leave store.

I wasn't even close. There are so many variations on the damn things it's insane. And then you get into "what color handle should I get?" IT'S A FUCKING STICK WITH A CLAMP ON THE END! But this is the kind of decision the American teenager can agonize about. Then, when they finally pick one out, it turns out that one isn't working and we have to start all over again.

Heading down the street you pass some interesting business names:

We went to take the Mount Roberts tram up to the top of the city. While boarding was finishing, who should I see getting on but... Mrs. Bitchy. She saw that there were maybe 7 teenagers in the car (none of whom was actually near her, or even looking at her) and told the engineer she'd wait for the next one. As she stepped back she noticed me, and gave me the bird.

Honestly, folks, this prune isn't one of my patients. I'd never even seen her before this trip.

It was actually a pretty impressive ride, with an amazing view of the city. Going up, all the ginormous cruise ships in the harbor shrink until they look like bath toys. Everyone in the tram was frantically snapping pictures. Frank tried to film it, but when he switched on his phone's camera it began playing "Amish Paradise" instead. The displays and trails at the top are impressive, too, and there's a performance by the local Alaska String Band.


Tonight at dinner the Limoncello family wasted no time in getting tipsy and belting out "Happy Retirement." Then our waiter, Michael, came over and introduced himself.

Michael? Huh?

We asked him what happened to Peter. He said Peter had quit that morning "because he had a nerve problem" and flown home. My mother, trying to be helpful, said "my son treats nerve problems." My wife whispered "I don't think that's the kind of nerve problem he's talking about."

Marie said: "Will you bring me Ranch dressing?" Michael answered: "You already have it." And pointed to a serving dish near her seat.

Marie has dreams of such things

Marie was delighted.

We've taken several cruises, but this is the first time we've ever driven a waiter over the edge.