Northbound to Alaska: Hot God Debates, Glacier Bay, and Bear Encounters
There’s something special about the first voyage of the season—equal parts organized chaos, excitement, and rediscovering just how quickly life onboard falls back into rhythm. This year’s journey north from Seattle to Juneau aboard a small expedition ship had a little bit of everything: new places, smooth seas, wildlife, questionable food philosophy, and some truly spectacular weather.
Our first stop was at Olympic National Park, which was a first for me and another national park checked off the list. We hiked up to a waterfall that was absolutely worth seeing, though apparently we timed it perfectly with what looked like an elementary and middle school field trip day. Between the waterfalls and the swarm of energetic students, the trail definitely had more traffic than your average backcountry adventure—but it was still a beautiful introduction to the trip.
From there, we settled into three straight cruising days through Canadian waters. Since we couldn’t actually step foot on land, we admired the scenery from the ship instead. I’m still undecided whether “technically seeing Canada from the deck” counts as visiting Canada or not, but I’m leaning toward partial credit. With long stretches of cruising came plenty of onboard programming, usually two presentations a day. I gave my Ocean Myths talk, diving into sea monsters, legends, and the real marine creatures that inspired them, which seemed to go over well with guests. But the true star of the week was my coworker Jerry, who delivered an unexpectedly brilliant presentation debating whether a hot dog is a sandwich. What started as culinary chaos somehow transformed into a hilarious and genuinely insightful lesson on phylogenetic trees, classification systems, and why categories like “marine mammals” can be scientifically messy. Educational? Yes. Ridiculous? Also yes.
Eventually we crossed into Alaska and spent a stunning day in Misty Fjords National Monument—which, ironically, was not misty at all. Blue skies, calm water, and dramatic cliffs made for one of those rare Southeast Alaska days that feels almost too perfect to be real. We later stopped in Ketchikan, where Chief Joe joined us to share local and Tlingit history while guiding guests around town. It was one of those experiences that reminded everyone that these places are more than just scenic—they’re deeply connected to culture, history, and community.
Monday was when we finally started to feel like a true expedition vessel again. We explored the Blashke Islands with kayaking, skiff tours, and bushwhacks, even if it was only a half-day of operations. We also transited the beautiful Wrangell Narrows and spotted a couple of black bears casually hanging out along the shoreline as we cruised by. Just another normal Southeast Alaska commute.
Our first full day of operations came at Neka Bay, a quiet little corner of Alaska that delivered exactly what expedition travel should: muddy boots, good laughs, and a little adventure. I led a light bushwhack that eventually turned into introducing guests to a muskeg—essentially Alaska’s version of a swamp. There may also have been a brief snowball fight involved. Scientific interpretation comes in many forms.
Then came Glacier Bay National Park and Preserve, which somehow manages to feel overwhelming no matter how many times you visit. Our first day was spent near Lamplugh Glacier, where operations were brief but memorable. The skiff tour lasted only about twenty minutes—just enough time to admire a waterfall before heading back—but the kayaking more than made up for it. Paddling quietly in front of a glacier is one of those experiences that makes the entire season worthwhile.
Our final day of the cruise took place in Tidal Inlet, and it may have been the perfect ending. During a morning kayak, we spent much of the trip observing an incredibly relaxed bear wandering along the shoreline. The bear barely acknowledged us, calmly continuing its morning while kayaks—and eventually the entire ship—stopped to admire it from a respectful distance. We even squeezed in a quick stop at Bartlett Cove before exiting the park.
By Saturday morning, we rolled into Juneau around 5 a.m., announced—as always—by the unmistakable sound of the bow thrusters waking up the entire crew. By 8:30 the guests were off, the luggage was unloaded, and we shifted immediately into turnaround mode: cleaning, resetting cabins, reorganizing gear, and preparing for the next group arriving that evening. A few hours later we were back off the dock again, headed toward Sitka and another week of Southeast Alaska adventures.
And just like that, the season is fully underway.
