Nothing could better shatter any pessimistic misconceptions of a “cruise” in Alaska than our first full day here aboard the National Geographic Sea Bird than a sunny cloudless day. One might be moved to double check that we had actually arrived in the northernmost state in the union. In a semblance of order, the ship disembarked her entire compliment of guests into and around Williams Cove for morning activities consisting of hiking, kayaking, and personal tours in the sleek expedition landing craft. Bald eagles kept a cautious eye on the newcomers to their quiet neck of the woods as the sounds of exuberant exploration echoed around the inlet.
Just when the day was on the verge of becoming too warm (remember we are still in Alaska!), we set out in the more maneuverable launches for a special treat for the senses. Crisp cool wind on the skin, clean fresh air to breathe, the sound of Arctic terns and the deep booming rumble of a glacier moving. But the view, what a view! Marbled white and azure ice contrasted against iron infused granite topped by a blue beyond blue sky. Inquisitive harbor seals popped up between bergy bits to inspect us as we sat in awe of the spectacle before us. And then, as precisely timed as firework finale, a colossal glacier calving event unfolded before us. Apartment-building-sized chunks of centuries-old compressed snow fell from above and rose from deep below, the sound alone resonating almost to our very bones but assuredly to our memories.
