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Anchorage, AK to Valdez, AK
Rose in Anchorage at 7:30. Called the ferry to confirm reservations; they suggested being through the Whittier tunnel by 10:30 for a 12:30 departure, so we took off with little fanfare and a couple of Nutri-Grain bars. Drove down the Seward Highway, down Turnagain Arm once again (the tide was out, so we could see the mud flats all the way across), and turned east at the Portage Lake exit. It was a short drive to the gorgeous Portage Lake; got some nice pictures of the fog-shrouded glacial lake before the bugs drove us back into the car. We then bought our ticket for the one-lane auto/train tunnel, which was formerly a train-only tunnel; tourists (like my parents) had to load their cars onto a train to be taken through to Whittier to catch the ferry. In 2000, though, they renovated it by laying a one-lane roadbed on top of the train tracks, so now it's timeshared between trains and cars, and auto traffic is metered through with scheduled releases. At 2.5 miles, it's now the longest automobile tunnel in North America. We got in line for the first traffic release, which was at 10:30; there was a wait, so we stalked around and got some leisurely photos. Then, when the traffic release rolled around, we were the first ones into the tunnel, which we took at the recommended 25 mph, and then emerged into a very windy Whittier. Checked in at the ferry terminal and parked in line; listened to Henry Rollins' comedy routines on the iPod while I checked our tickets and found that we didn't have sleeping cabins for the Juneau-Prince Rupert leg after all. Ah well—we'll figure it out. Got burgers at a windswept little café on the seawall (all Whittier is is a line of little food and gift shops next to the dock); then we got in the car and boarded the ferry at about 12:30. It was another hour before we pulled out.
The ferry journey was really fascinating; I followed our course diligently on the charts posted on the walls (excuse me, bulkheads), and perched the GPS on a windowsill in the observation lounge where Paul was napping, so it could retain contact with the satellites. The naturalist doing running commentary expressed interest in asking for my help navigating, since this ferry has no passenger-accessible GPS readouts. As we went, I saw a lot of marine life, and got photos of a sea otter and some Dall porpoises, as well as jumping salmon. Our course didn't go by Columbia Glacier up close (apparently they're deferring the juicy glacier-viewing services to private tour companies), but we did catch a glimp of it around the edge of Glacier Island and saw lots of icebergs, as well as the spot where the Exxon Valdez ran aground trying to avoid them. Our ship, the M/V Aurora, was apparently the most instrumental one in the whole fleet during the cleanup, and there were awards and commendations for it and its crew tacked up on the walls. Seemed a very positive overall thing for morale, especially as Prince William Sound looked gorgeous, without a trace of oil damage. Unfortunately, forest fire smoke combined with sea haze made visibility poor, especially southward.
But we arrived in Valdez at about 6:15; we drove off the boat and almost directly into our motel, the Valdez Best Western Harbor Inn. I'd made a reservation for this place through Expedia, and in its listing it had been given a very poor rating by the only people so far to review it—apparently the hotel had lost their reservation and been unhelpful getting it back, putting them into a bad room or something. I'd taken the reservation anyway, since it was the only one available in Valdez that night, and with the idea that this would be one of our less auspicious overnights. So I was apprehensive as we arrived, but needlessly: the hotel was spotless and well-appointed, with lots of amenities, a well-decorated lobby (big wood beams and stuffed bears and the like) and a good harbor view. On top of it all, they hadn't lost our reservation! I'll go and post a positive review to counter the undeserved poor rating, I think.
Our lunch burgers were sitting heavy in us, so we made do without dinner (I had some chips, and we both raided the soda machine a couple of times). I went out with the camera to explore the town in dusk. Beautiful little place, even if the smell of dead salmon in the post-spawning season gets a little overpowering. It seems like a sleepy little residential place, rather than the tourist Mecca I'd sort of expected. The park strip down the middle of town was full of kids and dogs and old couples, and also home to the community college; all this was built after the 1964 earthquake (which destroyed Old Valdez, four miles away), and showed signs of quite good urban planning. Also Valdez seems to be the Rabbit Capital of the North, if the swarms of them rustling from bushes everywhere are any indication. Valdez has hardly any cars to run them over, so they dashed across streets with impunity as I approached.
Made some calls to Dawson City motels and found them all full, much to my chagrin; but a campground in the middle of town still had space, so I jumped on it. Now to bed, for the morrow will entail much driving.