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Take the Ferry and Plan
Your Own Alaskan Adventure
By Murray D. Laurie
 “Alaska! What cruise ship are you going on?” “Well,”
we’d say shyly, “we’re traveling by ferry.” “Why?” they’d ask? “Well,”
we’d reply slowly, “we think it will be, um, more interesting.”
We were stubborn enough to stick to our plan to travel
through Alaska’s Inside Passage not by a floating luxury hotel, but by way
of the ferries that the Alaskans and Canadians regularly use to get from one
port to another. The fabled waterway was explored by the intrepid Captain
Cook sailing on the “Endeavor” in 1778, but was well known to the energetic
and skilled native people whose ancestors walked over the land bridge from
Asia thousands of years earlier.
Had we more time, we would have hopped a ferry in
Bellingham, WA, just north of Seattle, for a summer-long, leisurely
exploration of the coastline, heading further north, but stopping off at
harbor towns like Sitka, Petersburg, Yakutat, Seward, Homer and Kodiak for a
day or two or three or four, eventually reaching Dutch Harbor on the
outermost reach of the chain of the Aleutian Islands. The Alaska Marine
Highway stretches for 3, 5000 miles and was recently named a National Scenic
Byway. With a fleet of nine vessels, it links 33 port communities along the
Pacific shore. A trip by ferry starting or ending in the state of Washington
encompasses not only the southern coast of Alaska, but meanders in a
leisurely fashion along Canada’s western shore in British Columbia, so you
get to visit two countries for the price of one.
Instead, we flew to Juneau, the capital of our largest
state and the location of the massive Mendenhall Glacier to board the MV
Taku at the Alaska Ferry Service terminal south of town. We watched
cars, trucks, vans and recreational vehicles drive into the huge open bay to
be secured on the lower deck as those of us who were “walk-ons” lined up to
join the procession. The crew was busy directing traffic and waved us on to
the stairs or the elevator to the upper decks where we checked in with the
purser, who assigned us to our cabins. Not all passengers had booked
cabins: some were only on for a short way, planning to get off at Wrangell
or Ketchikan later in the day. Others carried sleeping bags, prepared to
camp out in the upper-deck solarium or snooze on the reclining chairs in the
lounge. One family boarded in their pajamas, including the mom, each child
clutching a pillow. They were obviously experienced ferry hands and opted
for comfort over style in travel attire.
 Our cabin was spartan, with bunk-bed berths, deep
shelves for stowing our stuff and a compact bathroom with a shower.
“Outside” cabins, slightly more expensive, had large windows. We spent some
time roaming up and down stairs and in and out of the lounges, checking out
the dining room and bar, and braving the windy outer decks for a last look
at Juneau as we headed south.
As we were to be progressing for two days through the
Tongass National Forest, we were treated to a series of nature programs
courtesy of the United States Forest Service. Ranger Don Poling and is wife
Dottie were spending their summer traveling north and south through Alaska’s
Inland Passage, sharing their great fund of stories, nature lore and
practical advice on how to spot a whale, and how to tell an Orca from a
porpoise at a considerable distance. As we glided past glaciers, Don pointed
out small icebergs floating along the surface of the water. At one point,
Dottie had a number of the youngsters on board roaming all over the Taku
on a scavenger hunt.
We met kids on their way to a religious conference, a
party of senior citizens from California, an attractive French woman who
wiled away her time knitting socks, a boat builder from British Columbia
hurrying home to celebrate his son’s birthday, a ballet teacher, retired
seamen, and a young woman who was spending her summer as a kayak tour guide,
now on her way home to Vancouver Island to rest up for her next six-day trip
into the wilderness. Even the crew members had time to pass the time of day
with us as we made our way through the calm water. It was easy to fall into
conversation with people: the leisurely pace of the Taku soon took
over and we became, for a while, a small, friendly village.
Yet there was plenty of quiet space to read or snooze
or write in a journal. When the weather improved, walking around the deck
and photographing the steep and densely forested shore, distant snow-topped
crags, and the wake of the boat built up an appetite for the next meal call.
Food was fresh, hearty and simple, served cafeteria style by a good-natured
galley crew. The small gift shop opened from time to time with a stock of
candy bars, post cards, topical books, and souvenirs.
Because we booked rather late in the season, we were
not able to secure reservations to our final destination on the Alaska line,
so we switched to the British Columbia Ferry service at Prince Rupert for
the next leg of our trip. The recently refurbished Queen of the North
was a rather more luxurious vessel than the Taku, noticeable in the
décor of its lounges and dining room. Like a movie star in an old flick,
one could glide down the wide stairways with their curving art deco style
chromium banister and lean reflectively against the deck railing, waiting
for a phantom lover to appear.
Abandoning fantasy, we responded to the news that lunch
was being served. We chose the cafeteria service, but a more elegant,
up-scale buffet dining room was available to those who believe that
sumptuous dining is an essential part of a cruise. The posse of portly folk
from Germany and the tour group from California certainly thought so.
There was time during the day for scrabble games, gin
rummy, a nap or a movie, promenades around the deck to admire the panorama
of waterfalls cascading down cliffs dense with hemlock and spruce, and to
attend nature talks provided on the open upper deck by a pair of young
Canadian naturalists.
The ferries stop all along the way, loading and
unloading vehicles and passengers, and we regretted not having time to stay
over in Wrangell for a river rafting trip up the mighty Stikine River and a
visit to the historic Tribal House surrounded by totem poles, or to pause in
Petersburg, known for its Scandinavian folk art traditions. One of our
fellow passengers highly recommended Sitka, the capital of Russian America
in the 1800s, with its blend of Russian, Native and pioneer cultures. At
most of the ports, arrangements can be made for sightseeing flights, fishing
guides, kayak tours, camping expeditions, or connections to inland
attractions.
We did get a two-day taste of Prince Rupert, a lovely
port on the northern British Columbia coast with its striking museum
constructed of massive logs to replicate the built-to-impress houses of the
native people. The tradition of carving totem poles still flourishes and
these towering images blend in Prince Rupert with relics of the British
Empire--Gothic churches, prim Edwardian government buildings, and
flower-decked public parks.
Those we met who were traveling by car or RV found the
ferry service a welcome change from highway fatigue, an opportunity to relax
and enjoy the marine wildlife and coastal scenery. Rugged campers and
mountain climbers, worn down by weather and close encounters with Mother
Nature, seemed to appreciate the simple comforts of the ferry service and a
chance to catch up on sleep and hot meals.
Ferry travel on the northwest Pacific coast is
economical, flexible, adventuresome, and addictive. We felt a real sense of
triumph and satisfaction as the ferries of Alaska and British Columbia
transformed us from tourists into travelers.
Reservations and information about the Alaska Marine
Highway:
www.akferry.com or 1-800-642-0066.
Information about the ferries in British Columbia :
www.bcferries.com or 1-800-HELLO BC.
Photo Credit: Mike Affleck Alaska Division of Tourism
Photo Credit: Alaska Division of Community and Business Development, DOT&PF
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