'North to Alaska!'—A Dialysis Patient Follows Ol' Gramps to the Land of Bountiful Vistas

"North to Alaska!"

"North to Alaska! We're going north to search for gold!" goes a familiar Johnny Cash song. Fables and fabulous expectations burgeon to match this giant and largely unknown land. My grandfather from southern Utah—where vistas are barren, long and dry—dreamt about Alaska all his life. When he finally got there, inland, he was bitterly disappointed at being unable to see anything for all the trees and by the scarcity of wildlife. He also suffered from primitive cooking and accommodations in the back of his homemade camper.

I, too, had lived in more verdant places than our present home in Utah. My wife, Elisabet Thor, MD (who is Swedish and a nephrologist) and I both love forests, mountains, and, especially, coastal waters. Therefore, we signed up for an early July 1997 seven-day Alaska cruise with Superb Travel, Dialysis to Go. I would dialyze thrice onboard, and Elisabet would serve as the cruise nephrologist.

Across the Kenai

We flew from "hot-as-a-pistol" Salt Lake City into Anchorage, AK, then had a long bus ride across the Kenai Peninsula. Traversing the precipitous northern edge of the Turnagain Arm of the Cook Inlet, we saw many mountain sheep and marveled at the ripping, extreme tides. Like those of the Bay of Fundy, tides in this bay make the shores, waters, and exposed tidal flats very dangerous.

Above the head of the Arm, we stopped for sightseeing at Portage Lake, half full of icebergs and surrounded by high mountains and glaciers. Glacial waters of the Turnagain Arm, in Portage Lake, in fjords, and often far off shore, ranged from slightly milky to opaque gray, from suspended, finely-ground rock.

The remaining ride over the Chugach Mountains was characterized by "bigness"—big mountains, big trees, big waters, and storied but unseen big fish, accompanied by the short vistas and tired butts that so troubled Grampa.

In late afternoon, we arrived at Seward, where the large, new MS Sun Princess lay at dockside. Several of the half-dozen dialysis patients had come earlier for their treatments. That night, the ship went hundreds of miles across open sea in the Gulf of Alaska and into the "Inside Passage," which is actually many passages between individual islands or islands and the mainland. On other ocean passages I was on, the ship, sea, and I heaved heavily. I heard the roar and smelled the diesel smoke of the engines. Wretched, retched voyages! But the Sun Princess goes 20 knots or more soundlessly, vibration- and smoke-free.

"Dawn's First Light"

At dawn's first light, we were sailing into Glacier Bay National Park. Very close at hand were mountains and glaciers both port (left side of the ship) and starboard (right), fore and aft. As in other fjords and narrow passages, we saw innumerable eagles and seals. I could not differentiate immature bald eagles from golden eagles, but, like many of the male passengers on our ship, most of the eagles were bald or, at least, white-headed.

The ship parked for a while in the terminal pool of a fjord while glaciers on all sides dumped tremendous shards of ice into the slush- and iceberg-covered water with rifle-shot sounds. The waves and splashes from the falling ice would have swamped small boats.

The terminal pool was only several ship lengths in diameter. Our ship turned gracefully about within the confines of its own length, and we retraced our route. The only bears (brown, not polar) we saw were in Glacier Bay.

Skagway and Juneau

A complex set of maneuvers brought us through fjords to our first docking, at Skagway. The town tour included a museum, movie, live performances, and an old graveyard. All the "his"- stories and "her"-stories centered around the Klondike Gold Rush of 1897-1898. The principal route into the Yukon River Valley lay over the White and Chilkoot Passes, which, during the gold rush, was traversed by thousands in the dead of winter at horrendous human and animal costs. Some passengers from our ship took day tours over these passes and down to the fabled Yukon River village of Whitehorse, Yukon Territory. Our second docking was at Juneau, capitol city of Alaska. Historical and anthropological museums were proudly featured. Renovated, if not entirely reformed, red light areas and saloons were also prominently featured. We enjoyed a tram ride to a lodge overlooking the bay. Many small new airplanes with single radial (!) engines and twin floats were engaged in local sightseeing tours and "bush" flights inland. I thought the manufacturing of radials ended with World War II!

"Professional Attention"

My second dialysis was dockside at Juneau, but most dialyses were thoughtfully scheduled during sea passages. An inside suite was converted into a two-station dialysis unit, with supplies and a back-up machine in the adjoining room. The ship's hospital was just down the hall.

Juanita Hill, RN, BA, medical director of Dialysis To Go, has very extensive experience with dialysis cruises. (See FPO, September/October 1998, pg. 20.) She and Pauline Carpenter, RN, stayed with the patients every minute they were on dialysis. Both Elisabet and I had wonderful chats with Juanita and Pauline. The nurses worked half or more of the daylight hours.

Fortunately, I did not need Elisabet's professional attention. At home, she stays as far away as possible from my medical case. I guess her policy is akin to the idea that anyone who is his own doctor has a fool for a patient. As at home, I was hors de combat (wiped out after dialysis), so tried to dialyze late in the day. By doing this, I missed three fabulous dinners and shows, but did attend one of the formal nights in my Emperor Penguin outfit. And Elisabet was stunning.

Last Stop—Ketchikan!

Leaving the fjords, the higher mountains and glaciers, we sailed the clearer, bluer waters among forested and rocky islands. Some small pods of half-dozen or so (gray?) whales and orcas were occasionally seen from the promenade deck—an eighth-mile and very popular walk (or run) on beautiful teak.

Our last stop before landing at Vancouver Island was in the Tlingit tribal village of Ketchikan. Young tribes-men and -ladies presented a very interesting historical cum culture program in a large hall built entirely of large red cedar timbers. A series of artisans' studies were devoted to sculpting totem poles and other useful, carved items.

Shipboard Odyssey

The ship had everything. The meals on board were numerous, bounteous, stupendous, and were the principal away-from-home occupation of many passengers. The service was superb and flavored with Romance languages.

The ship had live shows in large theaters, gambling, bars and saloons, hair and nail salons, hamburger and malt joints, shopping, spas, swimming pools, a library, day-care center, cooking classes, investment seminars, tennis courts, and mosaics from Herculaneum and Pompeii. Many times, the Promenade Deck served our fitness schedule fighting fatness!

While the area we traveled is typically foggy or overcast 90% of the time, we enjoyed sunshine and temperate clime all but the last day. We saw much wildlife, but none of the deer family. The vistas were long, panoramic, and beautiful. The ice and waters sparkled. So did we.

Ol' Gramps should have taken the coastal cruise route.

Curtis L. Atkin, PhD, is research associate professor of Internal Medicine and Biochemistry at the University of Utah, retired. He may be contacted at his e-mail address: Curtis_L_Atkin@compuserve.com