Day 8: MONDAY

I am writing this at 1:15 a.m. local time, which is 4:15 a.m. in Indiana. (Very disorienting to see the clock in the corner of the screen...) Our ship, which spent the day in the shelter of a fjord, has returned to the open ocean and is now experiencing the full effect of the waves. The entire ship is swaying dramatically, and every few seconds I have to lean one direction or the other to stay upright. It's a gentle rocking, not enough to make one seasick (although I'm not one to ask, as I've never had a problem with motion sickness), but it does remind you where you are. Despite appearances, it's not a luxury resort. It's just a big, pretty boat out in the middle of the ocean. Carrying tons and tons of food. :)

Today was very busy. Our port of call today was Skagway, Alaska, a town that largely owes its existence to (and played a huge role in) the 1898 Klondike Gold Rush. We had purchased tickets a year in advance to ride the narrow-gauge White Pass & Yukon Railroad. We rose fairly early, because we had to eat and meet the train by 9:15.

The history of the train system itself is fascinating. I won't recount all of it here (I think there's a website, something like www.wpyr.com, where you could get the whole story), but here are a few highlights:

Over 20,000 men were employed over two years to clear the way for the tracks. This involved blasting through solid granite mountain walls, carving out tunnels, and constructing bridges – one of which was, at the time, the largest in the world. (The whole project has since been recognized as an International Historic Civil Engineering Landmark, one of the thirty-six greatest engineering feats in the world, along with the Eiffel Tower, Statue of Liberty, and Panama Canal.) The men worked year-round in unimaginable conditions, such as dangling off cliffs by a rope and working in actual temperatures of 60 degrees below zero (wind chill was considerably lower). Laborers were paid 30 cents per hour, but could only work one hour at a time, or else their bodies would freeze. Amazingly, despite the life-threatening conditions, there were only about 35 deaths among the workers during construction.

The train originally carried supplies and cargo into the mountains for the gold rush crowd. After the gold fever died down, the railway was used during the 20^th century to carry ore and metals. In 1982, when world metal values dropped, the company suspended use of the railway. A few years later, it was refitted and opened as a tourist attraction.

The train is really the only way, short of long-distance backpacking through restricted park territory, to get into the mountains along the White Pass trail (the longer but less steep alternative to the famous Chilkoot Pass trail – see the works of Jack London or any famous gold rush photos for more info). Not only is the scenery breathtaking – jagged sawtoothed mountains, glaciers, a waterfall that cascades 6,000 feet (that's over a mile!) down the mountain, wildflowers, mountain goats, and more – but you can still see the trail that was tramped down by tens of thousands of hopeful, but ultimately doomed, gold-seekers. Artifacts line the way; broken shovels, wooden crates and old tools are still visible along the trail, even from the tracks on the other side of the valley. Saddest of all are the bleached horse bones along the aptly-named Dead Horse Gulch, which claimed the lives of over 3,000 horses – some of whom, overburdened and driven hard, willingly walked off the cliff to their deaths rather than continue up the mountain carrying nearly their own weight in supplies.

For a history nut like me, the three-hour, 48-mile train ride was fascinating. Everyone seemed to have a good time. Dad spent at least two hours out on the platform between cars, taking photographs of the scenery. Jon took approximately 250 photos with his digital camera. Even Hannah and Gracie, the young LaVier children, oohed and aahed at the dozens of pretty little waterfalls we passed.

After the train brought us back to the dock, Laura and I set out on foot for Skagway (which is about half a mile from the pier). We spent some time in the National Park Service museum, which documents many aspects of the Gold Rush with period photographs and artifacts, then browsed a couple of shops. In early afternoon, we returned to the ship for lunch and, more importantly, water! It had gotten fairly hot during the day.

After lunch, we settled in with our respective books for a little reading and lounging as the ship turned around and headed out of the channel (a trip of about six hours). We wanted to be someplace we could see outside, because we'd been told that the scenery on the fjord was spectacular (and it was!). The upper decks were both crowded and windy, so we used the chairs on our private balcony and propped our feet up on the tables. We read, interspersed with moments of looking at the mountains and admiring the blue glaciers. After an hour or so, we gave up on reading altogether to watch the humpback whales, who were apparently lounging close beneath the surface of the extraordinarily calm water. We saw about a dozen whales breach and spout over the course of an hour.

Then came dinner – semiformal night; Mom ate lamb, Laura ate steak, I ate roasted quail – and after that, the much-touted Swing Train show. This was purportedly a marriage of train imagery and swing music from different parts of the country. I was looking forward to the show, because I love swing dancing, and you probably know by now how our family feels about trains.

Unfortunately, cruise shows can't stick to a theme to save their proverbial sterns. There were, indeed, two songs in the hour-long show that might have had their roots in swing. And there were a couple songs that had to do with trains – “Chattanooga Choo-Choo,” “Midnight Train to Georgia,” and “Love Train,” to name a few. (Did I mention that this was advertised as a swing show?) There were also such classic swing/train tunes as Santana's “Smooth,” Ricky Martin's “She Bangs,” and a host of forgettable songs about New Orleans. Um... right.

Disappointing, really. Still, the dancing was very good. I've been pretty impressed with the performers themselves; they do a nice job. And tonight's show was a perfectly decent variety show – just not one that should be called “Swing Train.”

After the show, Mark, Cindy, Laura, Jon and I retired to the LaViers' suite to play cards for an hour. We were waiting for Motown Night to be over so we could go dancing. Finally the time came, and we headed up to the nightclub for some pseudo-clubbing action. The music, unfortunately, was still lame – in fact, it was the exact same track list the DJ had played during the '70s retro night. There were a lot of people dancing, and most of them looked drunk. /sigh/

Fortunately, he was taking requests, and we put in (at Cindy's suggestion) “Jump, Jive and Wail,” which he played – eventually – after a set of bad '80s songs. Laura and Jon cleared the dance floor when they started swing dancing, as other dancers realized they were outclassed. There were collective cheers from the entire club as they twirled and performed lifts. When they slipped on the metal floor and went down during a move(smoothly and without injury), everyone gasped, then cheered when they just popped back up and continued dancing. That song was such a success that the DJ followed it with another swing number, which Jon and I danced (with slightly less flair, both because Jon was getting tired and because I rarely dance with Jon, and therefore am not as good a match as Laura).

After a couple of dances, Mark and Cindy bailed and went back to their room to get some sleep. Jon left shortly thereafter. Laura and I stayed, stunning the (slightly inebriated) nightclub crowd and eliciting (somewhat lubricated) cheers and praises for our interpretive dance. We took down our hair and head-banged to the '80s rock songs; we danced pseudo-flamenco to the Latin numbers; we dutifully performed line dances to the Macarena and the Cha-Cha Slide; we even performed a mock sit-in to a slow Bob Dylan song (no, I don't know why he played it, either. Somebody requested it). By the end of the session, we were tired but energized. And, predictably, we were attracting a fan base. I was asked to dance by an overly-friendly man who smelled strongly of cigars, and blatantly ignored his none-too-subtle compliments during the half song I danced with him. He bowed out after that song, and I went back to dancing with Laura.

And the same guy from the previous dance session was there, and he promised to see us tomorrow at salsa dance lessons. Hmm. You know, I'm sure that Dad wants to learn how to dance salsa... yes, that's it... I'll take Dad tomorrow. (At least Dad can dance, when he wants to; it will be a far more productive session.)

The nightclub song list only went downhill after Bob Dylan, and around 1:00 Laura and I retired to our rooms long enough to pack up our laptops and go scout out an open lounge. That's where I came in on this report. Laura has been alternating between working on Kingcraft V and editing effects on her Nightwish AMV. I've been blogging, and occasionally watching her video and offering suggestions.

Anyhow, it's now 3:03 a.m., and we're supposed to be up tomorrow morning by 6:30 to see the Hubbard Glacier (we'll only be close to it for about half an hour before turning and heading on to Ketchikan). At this point, I'm debating going to bed at all... But I should really get some sleep. After all, I have salsa dancing lessons tomorrow.