As a rule, fiction writers pay more attention to reader interest and entertainment than they do to accuracy. Readers of this blog may suspect I’ve stretched the truth in my entries about my recent cruise to Alaska. Okay, I’ve changed a few names and exaggerated some events. Guilty as charged.
To bring you up to date, I was visiting Alaska along with my wife, Jean, and hardy traveling companions Mike and Brenda Knyght. Day 8 had concluded with our departure from Ketchikan aboard the good ship Hellandam. When I awoke on Day 9, at 7:12 am, we’d steamed southeast to 52°29’N, 129°57’W, farther west than on the northbound route.
For the first time in our voyage, I noted an apparent wind from the stern at 10 knots, as if Alaska were pushing us south. This resulted from a ship’s speed of 15.3 knots on a course of 144°, combined with strong winds of 26 knots from the northwest. Outside temperature was 48°F. I saw no land from my verandah on the starboard side, just moderate waves. We’d traversed 1,618 NM since leaving Vancouver, and this day promised to be an uneventful transit south along the inside passage off Canada’s west coast.
Regular readers will recall, from Day 4, that I’d agreed to read a novel during the cruise. At 9:00 am, I participated in a fun discussion as part of the ship’s O’s Reading Room (associated with the Oprah Book Club). Seven of us had read the book An American Marriage by Tayari Jones. The Cruise Director led a lively and engaging conversation, which gave me new insights. You can read my review on Goodreads.
Our voyaging foursome ate lunch on the Lido Deck’s fine buffet. At 3:00 pm, I attended a “Meet the Captain” session in the ship’s spacious, two-level Main Theater. About 100 people in the audience peppered Captain Christopher Grayne with questions, some more intelligent than others. I asked him to tell us about his strangest experiences at sea, and he said he’d seen a UFO, but it turned out to be a weather balloon (don’t they all?). On a separate occasion, he had witnessed St. Elmo’s fire, which must have been fascinating.
Then a strange thing happened.
I returned to my cabin to view the passing scenery from my verandah. We cruised through moderately choppy seas with only occasional whitecaps. With no warning, and with lightning speed, a giant snakehead emerged from the waves, saw me, and struck. For an instant, all I saw were long, dripping fangs, a dark gullet, and a whipping forked tongue. I jerked backwards and the serpent clamped down on the varnished wooden rail and the Plexiglas panel beneath it, and ripped them both away. By then I’d escaped back into my cabin through the glass doors inboard of the verandah. I will never forget the glare from the two unfeeling, reptilian eyes before the colossal sea snake vanished from view.
There had been no time for picture taking, and I wasn’t about to go back out there with no railing. In a rather panicked voice, I used the room’s phone to report the encounter to Guest Services. Within a half hour, workers arrived to repair the verandah railing. They said nothing to me, but as they talked to each other, I picked up the word ‘Tizheruk’ several times. Apparently, these monstrous snakes, said to roam Alaskan and Canadian wasters, are not myths. Fair warning—don’t lean over your verandah railing when your ship is transiting this passage. They really should mention Tizheruks on the cruise line’s website.
Though shaken by that event, I ate a nice dinner at the Lido Deck buffet with my three traveling companions. After I told them about my near disaster, Mike asked if I’d fallen asleep while watching a movie, perhaps ‘Anaconda’ or ‘The Jungle Book.’ I replied that it really happened. He assured me that, had the snake eaten me, he would have fought to get that spot declared a hissstorical site. Very thoughtful, Mike is.
While Jean and I had been at dinner, our inventive room steward had left another fun creation on our bed, this time an elephant.
Later, the four of us passed the time in the Exploration Lounge, playing the ‘For Sale’ card game. A quiet area, this lounge contained comfortable chairs, games, large windows, and a well-equipped library. The ‘For Sale’ game, which Mike and Brenda brought with them, was just the thing to calm the troubled nerves of—
Poseidon’s Scribe
