Our next stop was Valdez (population 3,985), and we drove there the same day we toured Matanuska Glacier. We followed the Glenn Highway (AK 1) until it intersected with the Richardson Highway (AK 4) just past Glennallen (population 439). While the scenery along AK 4 through the Tsina River valley was purported to be the best in Alaska, we thought the vistas were spectacular along the entire 200 miles to Valdez.
The numerous waterfalls in the Tsina River Valley, before entering Thomson Pass, enhanced the interest and mystic of this scenery. They were everywhere around us. Unfortunately, I couldn’t photograph them fast enough, and I was prevented from capturing most because of the steepness of the valley walls. Somehow, I managed to get these.
Valdez was infamous in my brain for two reasons. First, I remembered reading with interest the April 1964 Life Magazine article, which covered the Great Alaska Earthquake, which had happened less than a month before. The initial quake lasted 4 minutes and 38 seconds, released 500 years of continental plate stress along a 600-mile fault line, and registered 9.2-9.3 on the Richter Scale. It was the world’s second largest earthquake ever recorded since modern seismography began in 1900, and miraculously, only 131 people were killed. Eleven aftershocks, each greater than a 6.0 magnitude, occurred that same day, and there were nine more of equal magnitude over the following three weeks. Hundreds of tsunamis were generated across the affected area, but the biggest at 220 feet high hit 8 miles west of Valdez in Shoup Bay. Valdez buildings were structurally damaged by the earthquake and further demolished by the tsunamis, but the razing of the city was essentially completed when a submarine landslide of 98 million cubic yards destroyed all harbor facilities, caused the shoreline to subside below high-tide level, and rendered the city’s sewer and water systems inoperable. Officials declared the city uninhabitable, and Valdez was rebuilt over the next two years 4 miles to the west.
The second reason for Valdez’ infamy was its unforunate connection to the Exxon Valdez oil spill of March 24, 1989. I call it unfortunate because the oil tanker just happened to have Valdez as part of its name, and the crude oil she carried, while loaded at the Union Oil Terminal on Port Valdez, was actually spilled 27 miles west in Prince William Sound. The tanker ran aground on Bligh Reef, punctured 8 of 11 storage compartments, and leaked over 10 million gallons in several days. The oil impacted 1,300 miles of Alaska coastline with 200 miles of that described as heavily or moderately oiled. Cleanup was hampered by insufficient resources, untested technology, inadequate equipment, and bad weather. Only 10% of the spill was fully cleaned, although the rest was ultimately dispersed. The immediate impacts on wildlife included these estimated death tolls: 250,000 sea birds, 2,800 sea otters, 12 river otters, 300 harbor seals, 247 bald eagles, 22 orcas, and unknown numbers of salmon and herring.
Public domain pictures courtesy of evostc.state.ak.us.
We camped in the center of town at the Bear Paw RV Park. Our location put us within easy walking distance of everything we needed: coffee, dining, sightseeing, and groceries. I had researched the cruise companies operating out of Valdez, which as a minimum had to include seeing the Columbia Glacier, and I settled on Lu Lu Belle Glacier Wildlife Cruises. Their ticket prices were higher than most alternatives; however, their advertising gave me assurances our cruise would be intimate and worth the cost. I hadn’t made any reservations, so we walked to their offices several blocks away; hopeful, they could fit us in and accommodate our tight schedule.
Inside the Lu Lu Belle Cruise office, a friendly women named Megan greeted us warmly and proceeded to answer all but one of our questions. The office was worn and very old school. No frills. No flash. No pressure. I smiled to myself when she handed me a tattered plastic-coated printout that described in detail what our tour included. For a brief moment, I questioned whether I’d made the right choice, but she quickly confirmed three spots for the next day’s sailing. Then I asked Megan if we could get any discounts for being seniors or retired military. She seemed stumped, turned to her left, and repeated my question in the direction of an adjacent room. From there, we heard a soft, tired voice reply, “go ahead and give it to them.” Megan explained that was her husband Fred, builder and Captain of the Lu Lu Belle, eating dinner in back. He never showed his face, and we were instructed that boarding started at 10 am.
Bright and early next mornng, I wandered over to the campground office to settle our bill, since we had arrived at the RV park too late to register and pay. A laid back middle-aged guy lounged behind the counter and took his sweet time mustering the energy to deal with me. During my wait, I surveyed the camp store merchandise before noticing a flock of unexpected customers. Each had their eye on a brass spittoon sitting just inside the front door.
We ate a leisurely breakfast in Arthur before walking a short hundred yards to the slip where the Lu Lu Belle was moored. Boarding went smoothly, and we were among an estimated 45 tourists and crew. The Lu Lu Belle could accommodate a maximum of 65 passengers. By comparison, the Valdez ships used by Stan Stephens Cruises looked like cattle cars and probably held up to 200 passengers. Captain Fred custom built the 75-foot Lu Lu Belle motor yacht between 1976 and 1978, and he’s led 5,425 glacier and wildlife tours since 1979. On their website, Captain Fred describes the Lu Lu Belle as having a “…plush atmosphere of teak, mahogany, and oriental rugs.” To that I would add she was also appointed with a number of unique fixtures, equipment, and interesting framed photos. Fred and Megan Rodolf have been live-aboards for the past 46 years, splitting each year between Valdez and Washington state.
From the moment we motored away from our mooring, Captain Fred began a narrative, that except for brief moments when he needed to focus on sailing his yacht, never stopped for the next 7+ hours. He regaled us with in depth history of the area; detailed facts about the wildlife we encountered, the Valdez Arm, Prince William Sound, and Columbia Glacier; anecdotes from his vast experience; a small amount of political commentary; as well as, some personal schtick he’s been honing for more than four decades. At one end of the narrative spectrum, the amount of information shared was so extensive I couldn’t keep up mentally, while at the other end, the entire room groaned as if just hearing the worst “dad joke.” Regardless, his public address system, whether inside or on deck, was excellent; and no one went ashore with anything but love for Captain Fred.
Our second wildlife encounter was a school of Dall’s Porpoises playing in the wake off Lu Lu Belle’s bow. This species of black and white porpoises weigh 440 pounds on average and in Alaska, are found exclusively along the south coast.
Further on our way out to Prince William Sound, Captain Fred said his equipment had detected a pod of whales, and he shared they were Humpbacks once he had a visual. Based on experience, he announced the whales would dive and stay submerged about 2 and a half minutes. He provided an accurate countdown for those of us trying to get pictures and videos of them surfacing. Hanna said she saw one breach; however, we had no cell phone evidence.
The scenery along the arm equalled the beauty we’d enjoyed along Alaska’s highways. The mountains met the water at steep angles, the shoreline looked aged from erosive tides and storms, and we were surprised by the number of waterfalls.
As we continued out the arm, Captain Fred explained that for decades sea lions were NOT a part of the wildlife seen during his cruises, but for unknown reasons this had all changed fairly recently. He drove us beside several narrow beaches where small colonies seemed to now prosper. For some reason, he wasn’t a fan of sea lions, claiming they made too much noise and stunk. He asked us not to make them feel at home for fear others would come.
All Lu Lu Belle crew members were required to become certified in Puffins and their habitat. Before entering Columbia Bay to head toward the glacier, Captain Fred challenged a newly certified staff member to help him find a nesting colony. On her second attempt, she led Captain Fred into a shoreline grotto, and there they were. Getting pictures was a matter of speed and luck, because they’re very active. We were impressed with how easily Captain Fred placed Lu Lu Belle‘s nose within arms reach of the grotto walls. These strange looking seabirds known as “sea parrots,” stand 15″ tall, spend up to 10 months a year at sea, and despite their small wings, they flap them about 400 times per minute to achieve speeds up to 55 mph.
Captain Fred was extremely experienced with the handling of Lu Lu Belle. In addition to getting us close to the Puffin colony, he entered another grotto where a light waterfall was accessible. He eased the nose forward until passengers standing at the bow were gleefully soaked. We chose to stay dry.
Our next stop was at the face of the Columbia Glacier. This famous glacier is a tidewater type, meaning its face flows into a water body (Columbia Bay) and is constantly exposed to tidal action. It originates in the icefield over 12,000 feet atop the Chugach Mountains and is 32 miles long; 1,800 feet thick; and one of the world’s fastest changing, albeit currently in retreat. When the glacier was discovered in 1794, the face (terminus) touched the northern edge of Heather Island at the mouth of Columbia Bay. Captain Fred said the face was just north of Heather Island when he began leading cruises in 1979. The glacier remained relatively stable until 1986, when a number of non-climate-related factors caused it to begin a rapid retreat. Since that time, the glacier has retreated a little over 10 miles and thinned by approximately 1,300 feet. (Glaciologists claim the thinning has been a result of climate change.) The fastest changes occurred in 2001 when the terminus retreated 98 feet each day and released about 1.7 cubic miles of ice per year. Below are two false-color images, captured by Landsat satellites, which illustrates this dramatic change. The one on the left was taken in July 1986, and the one on the right was taken in Aug 2024 four days after our cruise. The red dot on the second image shows where we observed the face (terminus) during our cruise.
I captured our first view of the glacier in the video below. In it, Captain Fred was explaining that in 2014, the brown island visible on the right side couldn’t be seen because the face of the glacier was on this side of it.
We pulled to within a quarter of a mile off the face, Captain Fred idled the Lu Lu Belle engines, and we spent the next hour experiencing the sounds and movement of this giant. The terminus was 3.7 miles wide and the height of the face ranged between 200 and 400 feet. These pictures capture much of the face from left to right.
As we watched and listened, the glacier sounded alive with constant creaking and cracking. The seracs well behind the face periodically collapsed with a muted thunderous roar. The blue colored ice was mesmerizing.
Of course, we hoped to witness and video glacial activity along the face, and the Columbia did not disappoint. We had not stopped long before a “shooter” occurred in front of us. A “shooter” happens when submerged ice at the face breaks loose and shoots upward. While they can be incredibly spectacular, this one slowly rose to an estimated height of about 150 feet before calmly settling down to its floating position. It was comprised of black ice, which made it appear to be rock vice ice.
The shooter displaces a lot of water and created several rolling waves, which were hard to see in the video above. I edited that video by zooming in and captured both the violence happening on the left side of the main shooter and an improved view of the waves it generated.
Captain Fred explained that the shooter often loosened ice above and behind, so we should watch for more activity. By chance, I was videoing to the left of it when an ice slide occurred.
Finally, and again by chance, I caught the calving of a 200 foot serac just a bit further left of the shooter. I felt this was the highlight of our 2024 adventure, at least up to this point.
Captain Fred announced that a crew member was prepared on deck to take our pictures while posed in the bow pulpit with the glacier as a backdrop. We couldn’t pass up this gracious opportunity.
The sightseeing had finally come to an end, and frankly, despite a fun-filled day, we were tired from the cold windy weather and ready to return to Valdez Harbor. The Lu Lu Belle was powered by two 650 horsepower, 6-cylinder, 993 cubic inch Lugger engines capable of moving us at 20 knots. Captain Fred put the pedal to the metal, and we hunkered down for naps in the lounge. Our dozing was disturbed about half way back by the tantalizing aroma of freshly-baked brownies. They were huge, hot, gooey, and best of all, complimentary. We all ate our fill.
We returned to the harbor right at dinner time and walked about a hundred yards to The Fat Mermaid. The place was packed, so we put our name on the waiting list and ordered a drink. The wait passed quickly, and we were seated in an overflow area where the crowd was absent and the noise-level tolerable. Our day had made us whiny, but the young waitress was a delight and accommodated our every need. We enjoyed meals featuring fresh-caught fish and returned to Arthur for some sound sleep. What a day!
Next morning, Hanna required a place to get some work done, so we put her in charge of finding a coffee shop. She texted us her location, while we worked on our standard regimen of NYT puzzles. She had picked The Coffee Co, which was across the street from Bear Paw, and we joined her for coffee and a light breakfast. Valdez artist, Rhonda Wegner Taylor, had many wildlife pieces hanging throughout the coffeeshop, and I was intrigued by her self-described fun, colorful, and whimsical style.
We tried an alternative breakfast and coffee shop called The Potato on another morning. Hanna enjoyed her breakfast sandwich, while we all were impressed with the view from our outside table. I thought the etched stone used to keep the napkins from blowing in the wind was worth a picture.
Hanna and I again took the opportunity to get in some exercise before the day got away from us. We found a beautiful hike on a section of the 126-year old Keystone Canyon Pack Trail. How pack animals ever safely used this trail baffled us, because the trail was unforgivingly narrow, and dropped off steeply down valley walls in a number of places. We were rewarded with an in-person view of Bridal Falls, which we’d passed on our way into town two days earlier.
Later that day we, went to the annual Valdez “Gold Rush Days” celebration in a parking lot near the harbor. Local vendors set up booths in this 5-day event to raise money for a number of Valdez charities, especially those focused on children and the future of the city. Of course, we missed most of the scheduled events, but we ate a delicious food truck dinner and got to stroll along another part of the harbor. We heard screams from happy celebrants later that evening. Some alcohol involved!
We left Valdez early the next morning, but I’ll end this blog with just a few more shots of the incredible landscape that surrounds this artic paradise.
