Petersburg & Frederick Sound
It was a day of contrasts. For the first time in our voyage, we awoke to a light drizzle. The rumors of Southeast Alaska being a rainforest looked like they might be true. But once again, we were surprised by dry and lovely conditions for our morning adventures. The clouds lifted at exactly the right moment. While some of us took to the skies to see the icy world from high above, others explored the miniature realms of the bog beneath our feet. The two sojourns could not have been more diverse. The aviators marveled at the vastness of the icy blue/white world above Le Conte Glacier, while the bog walkers wrapped themselves in wonder at the Lilliputian sundew plant nestled into the muskeg below.
Petersburg itself is a two-tone town. There’s the busy marina and all the signs of a roll-up-your-sleeves, get-to-work fishing village. And then there are the multi-hued and overflowing flowerboxes. The rough-and-tumble mixed with the sweet-and-colorful.
The afternoon outing took us to “The Brothers,” two side-by-side islands at the bottom of Stephens Passage. The nearby lighthouse constructed in 1902 is now automated, but a crew was in residence to conduct some renovation work. Nothing evokes the feeling of solitude and quiet contemplation like imagining yourself living in a lighthouse. It was a stark comparison to the nearby orca who engendered a more ominous feeling amongst us.
And last but not least there was the sumptuous crab dinner. While Dungeness crab meat could almost be described as delicate in flavor, the manner of releasing it from the shell was anything but delicate. There’s no tidy or gentile way to accomplish the task. But lively laughter and good cheer accompanied bits of flying seafood from table mates. Good thing fresh crab wasn’t served on the first night or else we might not have become one big happy family.
It was a day of contrasts. For the first time in our voyage, we awoke to a light drizzle. The rumors of Southeast Alaska being a rainforest looked like they might be true. But once again, we were surprised by dry and lovely conditions for our morning adventures. The clouds lifted at exactly the right moment. While some of us took to the skies to see the icy world from high above, others explored the miniature realms of the bog beneath our feet. The two sojourns could not have been more diverse. The aviators marveled at the vastness of the icy blue/white world above Le Conte Glacier, while the bog walkers wrapped themselves in wonder at the Lilliputian sundew plant nestled into the muskeg below.
Petersburg itself is a two-tone town. There’s the busy marina and all the signs of a roll-up-your-sleeves, get-to-work fishing village. And then there are the multi-hued and overflowing flowerboxes. The rough-and-tumble mixed with the sweet-and-colorful.
The afternoon outing took us to “The Brothers,” two side-by-side islands at the bottom of Stephens Passage. The nearby lighthouse constructed in 1902 is now automated, but a crew was in residence to conduct some renovation work. Nothing evokes the feeling of solitude and quiet contemplation like imagining yourself living in a lighthouse. It was a stark comparison to the nearby orca who engendered a more ominous feeling amongst us.
And last but not least there was the sumptuous crab dinner. While Dungeness crab meat could almost be described as delicate in flavor, the manner of releasing it from the shell was anything but delicate. There’s no tidy or gentile way to accomplish the task. But lively laughter and good cheer accompanied bits of flying seafood from table mates. Good thing fresh crab wasn’t served on the first night or else we might not have become one big happy family.
