Jeff's Excellent Alaskan Cruise Tips

Here's a list of things I learned on my first cruise. Some may be particular to Alaska, others particular to Princess Cruises. Your mileage my vary...

• The food is pretty good, but don't believe everything you hear about every meal being the best you ever had.
• "Queen-sized bed" has a completely different meaning to Princess Cruises from what you and I think it means. Apparently, the queens in Italy (where our boat was built) must be about four feet tall and about four hundred pounds. Our bed probably had as many square feet as a Queen-sized bed, but extra-wide doesn't make up for extra-short when you're 6'4" tall.
• For that matter, pretty much everything on a cruise ship is designed for below-average-height people. Watch your head.
• The Verizon "Can you hear me now?" television guy has never visited Alaska. In fact, I'll bet he's never even heard of Alaska. I can assure you that Verizon hasn't. And I'm not talking about the normal sucking that all cell phones do, I'm talking about a whole new level of industrial-strength, momma-get-your-gun, go-look-for-a-pay-phone style of sucking. "America's Choice", my ass. Try "America's-Except-for-Alaska-Choice".
• Two electrical outlets per room just ain't enough to power the laptop, charge the cell phone, charge the digital camera, and run the hair dryer. Plan ahead.
• Some countries apparently flip light switches down for "on" and up for "off". You get used to it.
• There is no Mountain Dew on the boat. None. Zilch. Nada. Zip. And I wasn't the only one bringing emergency supplies of Mountain Dew back with me onto the ship at the first port.
• Plan to spend approximately 25% of your time on the ship waiting for an elevator.
• Get a room with a balcony. It's worth the extra cost. Sitting on your own balcony reading a book while watching whales, boats, and the Alaska scenery float by is pretty damned cool.
• The food isn't all American. It's good, but you won't recognize a lot of it. The Asian section of the buffet is deeply disturbing. I was afraid to ask what most of it was. Actually, I think some of the Asian entrees might have been able to tell you what they were all by themselves.
• The restaurant is surprisingly adamant about not labelling the hard-to-recognize food. Be sure to ask, 'cause what looks like hot apple pie might actually be chilled monkey brain pie.
• The coffee on the boat is awesome. And I don't even like coffee all that much.
• Cruise lines actually remember what service is like (remember service? maybe you've seen it in old 1950s movies).
• Don't go to breakfast 30 minutes before you're scheduled to get off at a port. 2499 other people beat you to it.
• Take the whale-watching trip. I tend to think of most wildlife as potential dinner, if I even give it any thought at all, but I'll have to admit that watching humpback whales is pretty cool.
• Explore your ship. If a door doesn't say "Crew Only" or "Do Not Open", open it and see what's there. There's a lot of cool things to see on a ship 1/5 of a mile long.
• No, you can't visit the bridge no matter how nice you ask. You've gotta pay big $$$, then they'll let you see the bridge. Maybe. Only God himself gets to visit the Engine Room.
• Bring all the film you'll need from home. You think film is expensive at tourist traps? Wait until you're trapped on a boat in the middle of the ocean.
• I have no idea what the hell "Cookie Lee" is, but there was a Cookie Lee convention on our boat, and they're the loudest and most annoying bunch of middle-aged former high-school cheerleaders you'll ever meet. Every time I heard a group of very loud, very rude, or very drunk women and turned around to look, sure 'nuff, they were wearing Cookie Lee nametags. There were a few notable exceptions, but by and large, this was a very loud and obnoxious group of people. No wonder American tourists get a bad rap overseas. Ask if these people are going to be on your boat, and if they are, pick a different boat.
• Take a trip that visits a glacier. You'll never forget the sights and sounds of house-sized chunks of ice splitting off and falling a hundred feet into the ocean.
• Don't believe your travel agent when they tell you that "once you get on the boat, everything is free". Sodas, alcohol, tips, and any excursions you might go on are all extra. Not to mention the t-shirts and hats for your friends. You don't have to spend a lot beyond the price of the tickets, but you will spend some.
• Bring binoculars, a compass, your GPS receiver, and decent maps of your route. It's fun to know what you're looking at when you look out the windows. Guys, if you don't yet own a GPS receiver, now's your chance. "Yes, honey, I really do need it. I mean, what if the captain gets lost? I might be our only hope for getting home."
• Security is a joke when getting on and off the ship. At a typical stop, I carried two camera bodies, three lenses, a large pocketknife, a Leatherman, a pocket full of change, and a large stainless steel watch through the metal detectors. The one time I set the detector off, the security guys literally didn't even look up. A few times, they set up the x-ray machine, but they waved about 99% of everything through without x-raying it. God help you if you tried to bring an apple or a banana on or off the boat, but a machine gun, a machete, or even a small tactical nuclear weapon wouldn't present any real problems.
• Formal night isn't mandatory. At least not on Princess. Apparently, there are people who subscribe to the theory that the more uncomfortably you're dressed, the more you'll enjoy dinner. The fact is, if you show up at the dining room to eat, they'll feed you regardless of what you're wearing.
• You can't get away from the smoke. Period. No matter where you sit, within five minutes someone who smokes will either sit next to you, or sit slightly upwind from you. The ventilation systems seem to be carefully designed to suck cigarette smoke into every corner of the ship. I advise bringing a large water gun to spray at particularly offensive smokers.
• If you go early or late to the dining rooms, and if you ask, you can avoid getting stuck at a table with six strangers. While it's true I met some really nice people this way, I didn't pay all that money for a trip just to be forced to sit with strangers for dinner.
• Don't plan on eating in the dining room unless you have nothing better to do than eat for many many hours. Dinner goes something like this: Sit down with six people you don't know. Pretend they're not there as long as possible. Finally say "hi", and tell them your name. Immediately forget their names. Order. Try to kill forty-five minutes until the tiny salad comes. Finish salad in about seventeen seconds. Consider sneaking out and going to the buffet. Try to nod and act interested while someone at the table tells long and involved stories about their yippy little rat-dog named "Fluffy". Consider faking a heart attack. Eat your small bowl of soup in about one minute. Count ceiling tiles. Twice. Mentally calculate the ratio of old women with blue hair in the room vs. Cookie Lee floozies. Wonder if the crew had to row to shore to kill the cow to make your steak. Resist the urge to mention that "Fluffy" sounds like she might make a decent snack for a real dog. Count ceiling tiles again, just to make sure. Eat your steak. Do you want dessert? Are you kidding? Escape. Vow to hit the buffet from now on.
• The buffet is quick, tasty, and you can sit at your own table. Recommended.
• Bring the widest lens you own. You'll need it for the Alaskan scenery. Even my 17-35mm seemed inadequate for some of the pictures I wanted to capture.
• Bring the longest lens you own. There are lots of critters in Alaska, and they're never quite close enough. I brought a 750mm lens, and still wished I had just a little bit more a few times.
• Make sure to bring some moderately fast film with you. I dearly love Velvia and E100VS, but between the clouds, the fog, the handheld long lenses, and the moving boat, I'd have had nothing but blobs if I hadn't brought a bunch of Porta 400VC.
• Bring as much film as you think you'll need for three trips. You'll use it. Or if you shoot digital, bring your laptop to download pictures. I did both, and it was worth the hassle.
• Bracket shoot if you're not sure. With all the water, mountains, trees, snow, fog, and clouds, lighting is tricky in Alaska. A spot/incident meter is a godsend in these conditions.
• Alaska is cold. It rains a lot in Alaska. It snows a lot in Alaska. While this may seem elementary to anyone with a subscription to National Geographic, it was apparently news to about 3/4 of the people on our ship. If you want to be miserably hot and sticky, do a Carribean cruise or go to Florida or Mississippi or Death Valley or something. If you're going to Alaska, you might consider bringing a coat, a hat, and some gloves. Maybe some pants, too, and something to wear on your feet other than sandals. Oh, and maybe a shirt with long sleeves. You know, stuff for cold weather. You're not gonna freeze (personally, I thought it was rather nice, but then again, I live in a temperate rain forest more commonly known as "Seattle"), but it's normal for Alaska to be just a bit cooler than West Palm Beach.

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