In the wake of InnerSea Discoveries’ inaugural “un-cruise,” southeast Alaska—with its mountains, glaciers, and watery wilderness—is open for adventure, and it’s up close and personal.
Like many adventurous travelers, I once dismissed cruising as the domain of gawkers and grandparents. As a no-go zone for real travelers. Shame on me.
Truth be told, there were more than a few gray hairs among us, and a whole lot of oohin’ and aahin’ going on, last week as we plied the wild reaches of southeast Alaska aboard the first-ever InnerSea Discoveries adventure cruise. But that’s where any cruising clichés ended. A wild streak ran through the passenger ranks, and it defied age—from the twentysomething rabble rousers through the midlife explorers and right on up to the no-adventure-left-behind AARP members.
My husband, Hank, and I had been enlisted, along with fourteen other intrepid explorers, by InnerSea Discoveries to travel-test their new small-group wilderness adventure voyage. From snorkeling shallow tide pools teaming with marine life and paddle boarding glacial ice flows to kayaking with humpbacks and meeting outback oyster farmers and native totem carvers, the eight-day, seven-night voyage cranked up cruising to a whole new level.
Alaska, measuring more than twice the size of Texas, is among the world’s most biologically and culturally diverse destinations. It is also among the world’s most protected, with nearly 65 percent of its land mass and waterways set aside as public lands, wilderness areas, forests, parks, and wildlife refuges. Within the boundaries of the Inside Passage alone are 16,000-foot mountains, temperate rain forests, 1,000 islands, 15,000 miles of shoreline and thousands of coves and bays. But Alaska is also one of the world’s most inaccessible and inhospitable regions. The drama of its natural world is matched by its ability to humble the inexperienced. Can you say, Into the Wild?
As a consequence, this eco-rich destination has long stayed at a mega-ship distance for just about everyone but a fortunate—or risk-addicted—few. But under the umbrella of safety provided by a three-to-one guest/crew ratio of professional guides and an experienced expedition staff, and a self-described operational style of “rigid flexibility,” the voyage brought us up-close-and-personal with wildness on a daily basis. Instead of tight timetables and crowded ports of call, the InnerSea itinerary followed the wildlife and introduced us to the frontier people who inhabit the small towns and remote coves along the route.
We settled easily into the agreeable rhythm of expedition cruising, rising with the sun and spending our days seeking adventure—hiking, paddle boarding, kayaking, skiffing and beachcombing—at our own pace. When the ship was underway, afternoon naps were not unheard of with whale watching from the hot tub or storytelling on the bridge as prime alternatives. Mealtimes were for catching up with one another, sharing the day’s highlights over a delicious meal of locally caught seafood (or meat options), and lingering long afterwards over convivial conversation and a glass of wine, Alaskan microbrew or an evening whisky.
After only a few days at sea, we’d already enjoyed ample opportunities for lengthy forest hikes, overnight kayak camping, bear spotting from the skiff, polar plunges followed by steamy soaks in the hot tub, a visit with Jon Rowan, a Tlingit master carver, and a feast of freshly harvested oysters and shrimp courtesy of onboard guests and local fisher folk, Eric Wyatt of Blue Starr Oyster Company and Mike and Kathy Sheets of the Alaska Oyster Cooperative.
It was day six when we anchored at the southern end of Admiralty Island. The initial plan for the day was to remain in Chapin Bay for morning kayaking. But weather conditions dictated a change of plans and we departed for whale watching followed by an afternoon anchorage at “The Brothers”, a grouping of small islands where Stephens Passage meets Frederick Sound. There, calm conditions and sunshine made for a perfect day for adventuring as our group departed by kayak for an eight-mile paddle to Sail Island, while others remained to take out a paddle board, hike or nap in a mossy meadow on one of the islands.
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