Twilight fans get their own cruise

by Annie Scott on

Holy “New Moon,” I was joking when I referenced a cruise for “Twilight” fans in my article Heterosexual couple booked on a gay cruise sues cruise line, but thanks to the wonderful and well-informed commenters on Digg, I have learned that it’s actually a real thing (thanks, darkmagic311).

Billed as a “Convention at Sea for Twilight Fans,” the Alaska Twilight Cruise will take place on August 8-15, 2010, beginning and ending in Seattle — and they intend to make it a yearly event. The cruise will feature a Q&A and autograph session with “Twlight” actors Ashley Greene, Alex Meraz and Michael Welch (and they’re hoping to add a fourth), a costume ball, a charity auction and all the glory of Glacier Bay, Juneau, Sitka, Ketchikan and Victoria, B.C. “Imagine an Alaska Cruise Adventure with a Twilight Convention at Sea … it’s the best of both worlds … for sure,” says Linda Wolf, owner and “Captain.”

The operating company, Cruises Cruises Cruises, has previously arranged Star Trek, Barbie and Beatles cruises. How’s that for versatility? Prices range from $1049 per person in a 2-bed inside room to $3299 per person in a 4-bed deluxe verandah suite, convention fee and fuel surcharges not included. Visit TwilightFansCruise.com for more information.

Disney Cruise Line heading to Alaska in 2011

by Scott Carmichael on

Starting May 3rd 2011, Disney Cruise Line will be offering an Alaska itinerary. The 7 night Alaska cruise starts in Vancouver and after day at sea will take guests to Tracy Arm, Skagway, Juneau, Ketchikan, followed by another sea day before arriving back in Vancouver.

The cruise will be offered on board the Disney Wonder, their 964 foot long, 2400 passenger vessel. The Disney Wonder offers guests three pools, 6 youth clubs, 7 lounges and bars, 9 restaurants and of course a whole host of Disney themed entertainment.

For a modest fee, parents can check their little ones into one of the on-board kids clubs, allowing them to enjoy themselves without the kids for a couple of hours.

The Disney Wonder currently sails in the Bahamas, Mexican Riviera and the Panama Canal, so the repositioning to Alaska during the summer is an interesting choice – I’m guessing it has something to do with a drop in passenger numbers on cruise lines, especially in that area, along with overcapacity. The Alaska Cruise market is still relatively popular, so this Disney gamble should mean they’ll be able to fill their ships quite easily.

If you are interested in a Disney Alaska Cruise, you’ll be able to book your voyage starting September 28th 2009. In addition to the Alaska route, Disney will also be offering 2 repositioning cruises from Los Angeles to Vancouver (April 27th 2011) and Vancouver back to Los Angeles (September 20th 2011).

(Via: Anchorage Daily News, thanks Matt!)

Bowermaster’s Adventures — Kamchatka v. Kodiak, What a Difference 225 Years Makes

by Jon Bowermaster on

We sailed into Kodiak on a somewhat rarified day for this part of the world, one filled with sunshine rather than rain. The weekend just past had been its annual Crab Fest, an event dampened by typical summer weather: horizontal rain and temperatures just above freezing. But on a big, blue, sun-shiny day you’d be hard-pressed to imagine a more beautiful place, the entirety of Kodiak Island and the snowcapped mountains that rim it wrapped beneath an indigo blue sky.

Ironically, the place it reminded me of most of was Kamchatka, where we’d been a week before. Both are spectacular lands of active volcanoes and hot, spurting geysers. The seas that surround both are the same steel-blue, the volcanic mountain ranges similarly tall and foreboding, with fishing boats moving in and out of the bays. Both regions share physical turmoil as well as beauty, visited frequently by earthquakes, volcanoes and tsunami waves. Rain is a constant for both (Kamchatka, 110 inches a year, Kodiak, 68).

Though separated by one thousand miles of Bering Sea they started out with similar human roots as well. The very first Russian colony in North America was founded in 1784 at Three Saints Bay on southeastern Kodiak Island and until 1804 it was the center of Russian activity in Alaska. Russians are responsible for the name “Alaska,” derived from the Aleut alaxsxaq, meaning “the mainland” or more literally, “the object towards which the action of the sea is directed.”

%Gallery-69645%In the mid-1800s Russia, worried that the expanding U.S. and Canada would usurp its Alaskan territory without paying, attempted to play one against other in a bidding war, which proved unsuccessful. Ultimately, in 1867, the U.S. bought Alaska from the Russian Empire for $7.2 million (two cents per acre) and would become the 49th state on January 3, 1959.

Today both economies are driven by fishing. Kodiak is consistently one of the U.S.’s top three ports, with 750 fishing boats working off the island profiting from a wealth of Pacific salmon, Pacific halibut and crab. One thousand miles west, biologists estimate that a sixth to a quarter of all Pacific salmon originate in Kamchatka’s highly productive waters, including all six species of anadromous Pacific salmon (chinook, chum, coho, seema, pink, and sockeye).

But that’s where the comparisons come to a screeching halt. The state of the local economies and the health of the natural environments couldn’t be more different. The air and sea around Kodiak are nearly pristine; in Kamchatka, far from it, impacting the quality of life for all. Per capita income is widely different too (Alaskans, $33,000 a year; Kamchatkans, less than $7,500) and, no matter what you think about Alaskan politicians (Ted Stevens?), those in Kamchatka win the prize for blatant corruption.

How did these two regions, so similarly blessed by nature, turn out so differently? Two words: Soviet Union. During the Soviet era, Kamchatka was closed to outsiders for decades, for military reasons; today half of the territory of the Peninsula is still controlled by the Army. The result has been hard on both man and nature.

One of the first things you notice in Kamchatka is that there are very few old people. The harsh climate is partly to blame, but it is human influence, rather than natural forces, that shortens the lifespan of local residents. Despite its unspoiled appearance, the peninsula is filled with toxic pollutants, the most frightening aspect of which is that no one is really sure just how contaminated it is.

Until 1990 Kamchatka was home to the Soviet Pacific Submarine Fleet, several major airbases and is still an important testing ground for ICBMs. This substantial military presence has contaminated the landscape with heavy metals, radiation and other pollutants. The large naval base across from the capital city of Petropavlovsk bobs with poorly maintained nuclear submarines.

The decrepit capital appears to have been forgotten by time. Crumbling, Soviet concrete-slab buildings line the once-lush hills dropping down to the water. The once-bustling port is now mostly idle and crammed with rusting ships and scrap metal. Poaching – mostly illegal caviar, but also whales – are big economies and locals blame the intense poverty. It is estimated that criminal gangs poach at least half the fish sold from Kamchatka; when we were there twenty fishing trawlers were moored out at sea, impounded for poaching

While I met some beautiful and incredibly gracious individuals in Kamchatka, I couldn’t help but think that their situation was desperate. The few I met who would talk openly admitted that the corrupt bureaucracy that continues to oversee the plundering of the region’s unique natural resources cannot be – or at least should not be — continued. For their sake I hope big changes come. Soon.

Chicago backpacker gets lost (again) in Alaska

by Katie Hammel on

When Into the Wild, the story of Christopher McCandless’ epic adventure in the Alaskan wilderness, was published, the idea of setting off into the wild with nothing but a few pounds of rice and your wits to survive seemed terribly romantic….well, except that McCandless died because he was unprepared for the harsh conditions. Despite (or I guess, because of) that minor point, hundreds of people have followed suit to gawk at the ruins of the bus that McCandless lived, and died, in.

Over the years, several people who’ve set out for the bus have had to be rescued, costing the state around $2000 each. Understandably, many locals have have come to dislike the tourists who arrive, unprepared and ill-equipped, and put themselves in unnecessary danger. So they probably hate Don Carroll.

The Chicago-area 19-year old went looking for the bus with a friend, found it, and then got lost in the woods for three days with no food or water. The two ate berries and drank river water before being rescued by helicopter on Monday. But this isn’t Carroll’s first time being lost in the Alaskan wilderness. Back in June, Carroll, a seasonal resort employee, was hiking alone in Denali National Park and lost his way. Wearing just jeans and a hoodie, he suffered hypothermia, but managed to lead rangers to his location through text messages. He was rescued by helicopter then as well.

Caroll will head back to civilization in mid-September. Until then, hopefully he’ll stay out of the woods. It doesn’t sound like he is welcome there anyway. “If police see me in the woods, they’re going to arrest me,” he said in a phone interview. “The chief ranger said he’s not going to come looking for me anymore.”

[via Daily Herald]

Bowermaster’s Adventures — Dutch Harbor

by Jon Bowermaster on

Birthplace of the Winds, 10 Years After

During the past decade I’ve been to Dutch Harbor on the island of Unalaska – one of America’s last frontiers, potentially the planet’s next Singapore, home base for the loved-and-hated “Deadliest Catch” – seven times. Much has changed during the years, for me and for the place.

I first came this far west with close friends (Barry Tessman, Sean Farrell and Scott McGuire), three years later with French filmmakers (led by French television and political star Nicolas Hulot) and most recently as a visiting lecturer. I’ve arrived by ferry, small fishing boat, big fishing boat, small plane, helicopter and cruise ship; I’ve also kayaked along Unalaska’s rugged shores and climbed a handful of its volcanic peaks.

Dutch Harbor is annually the nation’s number one or two fishing port (trading off with Gloucester and followed closely by Kodiak). When I first came there was barely a bridge in town; today the town’s center has gravitated to a couple strip centers across from the airport. Its most famous bar and brawling center – the Elbow Room – is long closed. Yet its future looks oddly bright, and not because of the success of the Discovery Channel show, but because of the Arctic Ocean’s disappearing ice. As the Arctic’s ice lessens each year – some suggest it will be gone for good in another ten years – it makes the Northwest passage a much more commercially viable shipping route from Europe, Africa and the U.S. cutting thousands of miles off each trip, saving hundreds of thousands of dollars and gallons of diesel. The main port west of Canada? Dutch Harbor. There are many who believe the towns biggest boom is on the horizon.

When I arrived in 1999 it was on the strength of a first grant from the National Geographic Expeditions Council; six grants since have helped take my teams and me around the world. That first trip took Barry, Sean, Scott and I further west, to the Islands of Four Mountains, by kayak. Since then I’ve traveled literally around the world by kayak. Then my biggest corporate sponsor was Mountain Hardwear and my favorite jacket was its Windstopper Tech fleece (black/black). Today my biggest corporate sponsor is Mountain Hardwear and my favorite jacket is its (brand new) Windstopper Tech fleece (black/black).

From all the adventures I’ve had during the past decade some from that first expedition are still among my favorites. We arrived in Dutch by ferry from Homer, having slept on its deck for four wet, cold nights. And we still needed to get another 150 miles to the west before we could start kayaking. Unfortunately when we arrived we discovered that the guy we’d arranged to carry us the last leg (Scott Kerr) didn’t actually have a boat. I’d spent an anxious half-day walking the fishing docks before finally convincing Don Graves and his Miss Pepper to carry us another fifteen hours, in exchange for a sizable wad of cash. The night that followed was one of the hairiest we’d experienced then or since:

(From BIRTHPLACE OF THE WINDS, my book about that 1999 adventure …) “We had convinced Scott Kerr to meet us off Nikolski and accompany us aboard the Miss Pepper out to Kagamil, where we would be dropped off. (Don) Graves had no idea where he could safely drop anchor and unload us. We had leaned on Kerr to make the crossing, point us to the best drop-off point, then return to Nikolski with Graves.

“He’d agreed, in return for us bringing him $88 worth of groceries, Purina dog food and Red Man chewing tobacco. Just after midnight Graves calls out to me, saying we were nearing Nikolski … I grab the VHF radio and try to raise Kerr. No response. I try again. ‘Miss Pepper to Scott Kerr. Come in, Scott Kerr.’ After several tries he finally picks up. Groggily, he asks, ‘What’s your intention?’ as if we hadn’t explained it to him a dozen times.

“I shout over the roar of the boat and the sea that we are near Nikolski and that we’ll be offshore within a half hour. Then we lose communication. I can only assume he is on his way. (He later admits that when he heard the radio, he was very tempted to ignore it, roll over, pull Agrafina closer to him, and go back to sleep.)

“At 1 a.m. we pull into a wave-socked bay; a half-dozen lights a mile towards shore indicated Nikolski. Because Graves doesn’t know the entry through the rocky bay, it is too dangerous at night to get any closer. Soon we spot a giant, single headlight coming at us through the sea – Kerr in an 18-foot metal skiff. He pulls alongside, trying desperately not to bang into the Miss Pepper in the heavy seas. He is not alone. As he headed down to his boat, he’d knocked on the door of a sleeping neighbor – introduced as Rex – saying he needed help. Rex was barely awake; he thought he was coming out on a grocery run.

“Once they are aboard, it takes several passes to safely tie the skiff off the back of the boat. Empty .410 shells rattle around on its floor, making me wonder, what had these boys been hunting? We would be pulling the skiff behind, through the heavy seas, and Kerr is concerned that it not end up upside down, being dragged. Though he made the rendezvous, he doesn’t appear happy to be here. When he pulls back the hood of his forest green sweatshirt, wild, long, unkempt hair billows from beneath his ball cap. Around his waist he wears a rope belt loaded with knives and a heavy flashlight. He smells of wood smoke and tobacco.

“After brief introductions, he returns to his earlier question: ‘What are your intentions?’ Apparently Kerr has still not gotten the message. He thought we were bringing him his groceries and then crashing on his floor. Unrolling our maps, I focused on getting as much information out of him as possible in the limited hours we have together; first we tackle the question of the initial landing. Graves’ navigational system says we were 43 miles away from a sand beach on the north end of Kagamil, where Kerr says we’ll have no problem getting ashore. It will take us another three to four hours. In the dim light of the boat’s interior we study the maps together, us asking questions, him giving back little more than grunts.

“The final few hours of the fifteen-hour, 150-mile trip are spent trying to stay seated and picking up maps, coffee makers, donuts and rain gear as they fly around the cabin. The metal skiff tied to the back of the boat kept banging dangerously in the rough seas.

“I try to sleep sitting up. Scott Kerr admits to feeling slightly seasick and lies down on a bench. So much for our expert guide.

“Rex, dressed lightly considering the conditions, in blue jeans, hooded cotton sweatshirt and a Carhart vest, complains it is too hot in the cabin. For the bulk of the ride he stands on the back deck. I stand with him for a while and ask what it is that motivates him to live way out here. ‘Oooh, I been in some sit-eee-ations, that’s for sure, some real sit-eee-ations,’ was all he would say. Turning away he mutters, ‘It’s hot out here, ain’t it? Just like Florida.’ ”

Within a couple hours everything had gone awry; we’d lost the hatch cover to one of our big kayaks, Kerr’s metal boat was swamped and filled with sand and seawater on the beach at Kagamil and Rex was nearly hypothermic, smoking what might have been his last cigarette ….