Still underway... The night of a thousand naps

We have been underway now for about (or, because we're in Canadian waters, aboot?) 22 hours and Strava tells me we've covered almost exactly 400 miles.

I have no idea if that is nautical miles, dry land miles or metric miles but it isn't enough to allow us to head due north toward our eventual stops at points such as Ketchikan, Wrangell, Petersburg, Juneau, Sitka, Haines or, for some, Skagway. So for now it's onward and upward, as in Northwesterly.

The first of those stops should come at approximately 7:30 a.m. Sunday (tomorrow). We will, rumor has it, be allowed to go ashore while in port, just long enough to catch breakfast before heading back to sea.

Last night was interesting as I educated myself in the ways of traveling the Inner Passage by ferry.

Certain things are allowed, others "are not" - officially.

Many people carry pets in their cars, which are parked, interestingly enough, on the "car deck". The pets are not supposed to be allowed in the State Rooms, although I'm told it is not uncommon for smaller, well behaved animals to be smuggled topside. Access to the car deck, for security reasons, is limited to about 15-20 minutes duration, three times a day. When the call is put out for car-deck hours those transporting a Fido or Fluffy rush to their vehicle and let the pets out briefly, while attempting both to control and clean up after their pets.

The vessel holds 750 passengers and offers accommodations in 92 State Rooms, each having between two and four beds. A little quick math tells us that there are not enough beds. The NorthFace/Patagonia set rushed to the Solarium-deck to gobble up every available chaise lounge and/or "stake out" tents using duct tape to secure them to the deck. Other lodging of sorts is available in the Forward Lounge (where signs tell us that "food, drinks, luggage and sleeping bags" are not officially allowed. The same goes for sleeping, although the overnight darkness facilitated catnaps nicely.

All of the items listed above are allowed on the Bridge Deck. Looking to the untrained eye to be very similar to the Forward Lounge, this gathering spot catches the overflow and, as a bonus, offers restrooms and public showers! It also allows (slight) reclining of the seats, although the isles between the rows of seats were filled with luggage, strollers, campers and other gear.

The ship is officially on Alaska time, one hour pre-set from PDT, although passage thus far has gone primarily through Canadian waters. Several progress boards, located strategically around the ship, give live updates of position on the "chart", lat/long, heading and speed in knots.

Darkness last night came only between the hours of 11 p.m. and 3:30 a.m.

Beautiful sunset

Earliest of sunrise at 3:30 ish

The full moon made for interestingly beautiful, yet difficult to capture, sites along the port side (the side of the ship that serves dark red wine).

My accommodations for the night were primarily the Forward Lounge (shhhh, don't tell anyone) where I was simultaneously able to play Sudoku to my hearts content and charge my phone!

Our pre-departure queuing allowed those of us who choose to travel by motorcycle to congregate and introduce ourselves. 

We have quickly become a close group, gathering randomly at various times and places to share stories of the road as well as tales of the trail and favorite rides. Likewise, others who ride have sought me out to share pictures of their bikes and been quite engaging. Contrary to public stereotyping, bikers are 99% friendly and helpful people. Two of them, Bob and Nancy from Oklahoma went so far as to offer me an extra berth in their Suite. Most gracious, but I have a tendency to rough it and decline generous offers. Chuck and Bobbi, retirees from Cincinnati, have been equally gracious. I may see them on the road as they too are disembarking at Haines.

Twenty four hours after setting sail from Bellingham we are here:

There is a reason they call this the Inner Passage!

The green spot on the electronic chart above represents our position as we head into the channel along the eastern shore of Princess Royal Island. It is reported that Alaska has 30,000 miles of shore line but I don't know if that includes the hundreds of islands in the Inner Passage.
The view from 52*31.866N latitude, 128*27.684W is delightful

It seems strange given irregular sun hours and the continuous nature of the voyage, not to be constrained to arbitrary 24 hour periods. I went to the movies today, at 9 a.m.! Saw Miracles From Heaven again. Only cried through 50% of the movie this time!

This opening scene of my trip has served as a reminder that each person has their own story, and the stories here are as diverse as the circumstances that put us all on this ship.

A very nice young man from the inner city of Chicago goes into the Coast Guard and gets shipped off to Skagway.

Or this gentleman:

John lives on Prince of Wales island. He married last fall and, three weeks later, before his new wife can even move her personal effects from Florida to a comparitible wilderness, John had a heart attack. His new wife, taking "for better or worse, in sickness and in health" as a personal oath, stuck it out with basically the clothes she could fit in a suitcase. Now that he had recovered enough to travel he had gone to Sandpoint, Idaho to pick up her pickup, and was bringing it to his wife.

Then there was "the big guy" (whose name I did not catch) who had once dated a young lady who turned out to be a serial killer, then miraculously recovered from a very rare cancer to decide he needed to take a trip with his brother and nephew to celebrate his remission.

Mike and Linda rode from Toledo to attend, eventually, a relative's wedding in Fairbanks, then they were headed back home on their motorcycle with the big trailer behind it.

Bob and Nancy covered 39,000 miles in one year on their Harley, visiting 49 states and 9 provinces.

Chuck and Bobbi have been following their front tire since retiring from a long successful career as business owners in Cincinnati.

On and on, with more stories to hear than time to hear them. A few on board were upset with changes in their carefully arranged travel plans, but most took the slow pace of 16 knots over our 1,000 mile journey as an opportunity to share and care.