Day 10!

Amazingly enough, the rocking seemed to help with everyone’s sleep and we all got tons of rest. Until 4:30 when Timothy decided to get up. Now normally I would have made him go back to sleep, but when I checked my phone I thought it was 5:30, because while we weren’t technically on Alaska time yet, the boat was. So I discovered after we’d been walking around the boat for a little while that I let him get up at 4:30. Ooops.

It’s hard to be too sorry about that, though, because it worked out well. Most of the passengers were still sleeping while Timothy and I made our way up and down staircases and eventually ended up at the back deck area of the ferry. From there we stood alone in the chilly morning wind and I just…absorbed. The mountains, the calm of the water, the fact that we are going to Alaska…All of it. Those early morning hours go down as one of my favorite parts of the trip so far.

Breakfast in the dining room when it eventually opened was delicious, and then I headed back down to the room with the boys so that Josh could rest with a movie and Timothy could take a nap (since he’d been up for hours). I wanted to be outside for our first open water crossing (aka when the ferry rocks like a teeny little boat on big waves…okay, I’m 100% exaggerating, but that’s what it feels like), partially because I’m less nervous outside in the fresh air, and partially because I get slightly queasy during these sections and I know being outside makes me feel better. I figured this was good timing for a nap since according to the time chart in the dining room, we had another few hours before we reached it.

Five minutes, five minutes after I had Timothy soundly asleep and was therefore stuck in the room, the captain announced our first open water crossing.

Ahem. Seriously???

I wrote in my notebook that motherhood is knowing you get seasick and staying inside your cabin during an open water crossing anyway because your exhausted one year old just fell asleep…

I spent the next hour a half of the crossing alternating between looking out the window, checking on the boys to make sure they didn’t roll out of bed (haha), praying, and looking up Bible verses about fear. The cool thing about the open water crossing at Queen Charlotte Sound was how much it taught me about faith and trust and the ways I sometimes don’t exercise those. Faith when you’re in control? Not really faith…Something to think about.

The shoreline was beautiful even during this bumpy part of the voyage—beautiful rugged coastline with jagged rocky shores dotted by dark evergreens.

After that open water crossing ended, we ate lunch in the snack bar, wandered around a little, then I took the kids back for a nap again. They took wonderful naps and I think I took a little of one too. I woke up with the realization that this was an adventure and I was really having fun! I was determined to enjoy the rest of our journey and not waste time worrying.

Cue Open Water Crossing #2. (And hear the “bahahahaha” in the background).

They announced it while Josh was still sleeping (though Timothy had woken up), so I thought I would be stuck in the room again. Thankfully Josh woke up quickly so we were able to leave the room and try to find a better place to watch what was going on.

This one, while shorter, was much rougher than the first had been and we had a hard time walking around the ship. Watching from the front observation lounge was…intense because we could really see how high the front of the boat would go before it crashed down onto the dark waves again. I was still looking for John (and for a better spot) so we walked all over the ship. Eventually we decided on the side deck near our cabin, which was a good place to watch. From there I was able to enjoy the view, like the way the dark water almost looks like liquid steel, and the way the seafoam really is an earie, glowing light green underneath the white sudsey part you see at first.

I was calming down when I felt Timothy (who was in the baby carrier) tense like he needed to throw up. That’s when I noticed that he was cold, clammy, and slightly green. I tried to get him to watch the horizon and he hung in there until the crossing was over. From there I took him down to the room to watch Thomas as his reward for hiking all over the boat with his mommy who didn’t realize her baby might get seasick.

John hung out with the boys in the room this time and I spent a lot of time on one of the side decks, sitting on a metal pylon that’s probably really for rope and not for use as a bench, talking with my parents and enjoying the scenery. We watched mountain islands rise out of the cloudy mist and I realized that the clouds up here are different than the clouds anywhere else that I have seen. They seem almost to come from the mountain side itself, and they’re entirely ethereal looking, more silver than grey. Sitting there just watching, taking pictures, was one of the most relaxing parts of the trip.

Here are some of the ones I took...

Dinner on Day 10 was delicious—I had salmon—and we watched out the window as we passed the beautiful Canadian coastline. I don’t get why more people don’t live out here. I know it’s isolated and there are no utilities on random islands, but it’s so beautiful and people don’t see it as often as I feel like land like this deserves to be seen. I think that’s part of what captivates me about this part of the world—there is so much beauty that it’s not…overly popular. I’m not sure how to explain that other than to say we passed over ten beautiful waterfalls yesterday, and none of them are famous. None of them had huge crowds (or any crowds) around them. It makes you feel like you might be the only one who has ever gasped at the beauty of a particular waterfall, or noted the way it cascades down an entire seaside mountain. It’s like God made this part of creation for you. It’s beautiful and personal while it’s isolated.

Such a land of contrasts. That’s why I love it.