I’m recounting, in a mostly true way, my recent cruise to Alaska, accompanied by my wife, Jean, and long-time friends Mike and Brenda. To fend off lawsuits, I’ve changed just about every proper noun. In our last episode, we’d boarded our cruise ship, cast off lines, and began motoring north from Vancouver, BC.
Our ship was the MS Hellandam, of the NetherStates Line. In that cruise line, the ships’ names ended in ‘dam,’ every dam one of them. Hellandam had ten decks, five devoted to passenger cabins. She was 778 feet long, displaced 61,000 long tons, and could make 23 knots. Her officers and crew numbered 604 (of 32 different nationalities), and the ship could accommodate 1432 passengers.
Having scouted around the previous night, I knew where to get coffee when I awoke. I drank it on our cabin’s verandah, a 5’ x 8’ area with a waist-high wooden railing and comfortable lounging chairs. As the ship rolled gently, I watched fog lift from distant mountains under an overcast sky. We weren’t scheduled to visit any ports this day, but just cruise north along the Canadian Inside Passage.
Jean and I enjoyed breakfast in our room, making quick work of two delicious ham and cheese omelets. The ship offered many activities, and we thought we’d check out O’s Reading Room (associated with the Oprah Book Club). Only a few others showed up for this activity. The Cruise Director handed us a novel—An American Marriage by Tayari Jones—and said we’d meet to discuss it on the last day of the cruise.
While Jean and Brenda attended a poorly attended Mahjong lesson, I watched the scenery drift by. By 10:40 am, we were nearing 52° N latitude, and had steamed 287 nautical miles from Vancouver, BC. We hugged the eastern side of the Passage, keeping land in sight to starboard. On our course of 342°, we maintained a steady 18.8 knots.
The four of us ate lunch at the Dive Inn, a fast food eatery. Jean and I then attended a lecture on Alaskan ports, including places to visit and things to do. This took place in the ship’s expansive Main Stage, a beautiful stage and auditorium, with seats one could fall asleep in…hypothetically. Jean woke me up when it was over.
Mike was uninterested in the English Tea event that followed, but I went along with Jean and Brenda. Servers provided black tea, of the Bigalow brand, along with a tray of sweets. Afterward, I spent more time on our cabin’s verandah, and even saw a small whale spouting several times, around 4:30 pm.
Then a strange thing happened.
Ahead and to starboard, I saw a ship in the distance with no wake—apparently stationary. I grabbed my monocular and saw an old ship with two slightly canted smokestacks, neither spewing smoke. Two masts, fore and aft, had broken and were trailing in the water. A tattered British Union Jack flew from her stern. As we neared, I made out a name on her transom: BAYCHIMO, Ardrossan, Scotland. We passed her by at a distance of half a mile and I saw nobody on her deck to wave to. Only later did I learn SS Baychimo was lost in 1931 after being repeatedly stuck in the ice. Owned by the Hudson’s Bay Company, the ship’s last sighting had been in 1969. So mysterious and weird was this encounter that I completely forgot to take a picture. I trust our captain reported this sighting.
In any case, the four of us ate dinner on the Lido Deck, and played a fun card game called ‘For Sale’ in Mike and Brenda’s cabin.
Returning to our room, Jean and I found the steward had left a stingray on our bed, but a detailed examination showed it was neither alive nor dangerous. Our cruising foursome then went to the ship’s theater, ate popcorn, and watched the movie “The Black Panther.” Retiring to our rooms, we set our clocks back one hour in preparation for entering Alaska’s time zone. Juneau would be the next destination awaiting—
Poseidon’s Scribe
