Around me, tired, grumpy people fill the ferry terminal, and my enthusiasm is waning, though I’ve wanted to make this trip for ages. The ferry from Juneau to Bellingham is delayed until midday. The man next to me has been here half the night, and I could have slept in rather than leave my comfy bed before daylight. I’ve just visited my friend Stephanie, who lives in Juneau on the Alaskan coast, a place that suits her free spirit. She hikes and canoes, and regularly goes on cycling trips that may last for 2 months. I’m inadequate in comparison, and I feel guilty she woke up unnecessarily early to give me a lift.
On Stephanie’s advice, I’ve not taken a room on the ferry. Not only will I save money, but also the best view is from the solarium on the top deck. All I need to do is to find my way there, select a deckchair and set up my outdoor bed. I’ve just been on a hiking trip and have my sleeping mat and bag. I’m allowed to erect my tent just outside the solarium on the top deck should the weather pack up or if I decide I need more privacy.
After the initial delay, the 3-day, 3-night trip goes smoothly, with shorter stops at several small Alaskan towns. There’s a canteen and my left-over hiking rations as back-up. The showers and theatre are downstairs. Though for people who’ve not made this trip before, a movie seems a poor substitute for the gorgeous scenery – perhaps at other times of year when the daylight doesn’t last so long.
As well as snow-capped mountains and craggy peaks, I glimpse a black bear crossing a pebbly beach on my first day. The lush forest covered slopes are a constant, though the mountains shrink from windswept giants to rolling hillslopes as the days pass. The passage narrows further south and the forest comes closer. Humpbacks spout into the cold air, their rounded backs breaking the calm surface. A day later the whales are breaching, and I watch through binoculars, grateful for such a treat.
I could sit on my chair for days. I read a little and write a lot, the scenery unfolding all around me. The wild landscape is a constant and the other passengers are friendly. A couple with their two young kids join us in the solarium for the last section of the ride. No-one is noisy at night, and I’m toasty warm under the lamps. Two hikers cook up their own food on a camping stove. Another couple relocating from Alaska’s cold climate to Arizona’s sun have both their cars on the bottom deck. I jump at their offer of a lift to Seattle as my original plan was to find my way to Bellingham bus station and wait there for several hours.
I’d do it again in a heartbeat, though a flight would be cheaper and take a fraction of the time.