Chapter 34
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Tracy Arm—Stephens Passage, AK
Radio Flyer inched ahead, slipping smoothly between two icebergs the size of houses. Marco tapped forward gear. As soon as the stern was clear of those, he spun the wheel to the left, turning the boat to port where he had spotted a narrow opening through the next big chunks of ice.
The glacier-carved fjord walls that surrounded them were skyscraper high. The entire water surface was covered with countless floating icebergs and bergy bits, and Marco had been picking his way carefully through the pack for the better part of an hour.
Bill cleared his throat and paced back and forth in the pilothouse. “First you try to get me mauled by bears, and today we’re doing a remake of Titanic?”
Marco was a little tired of Bill’s whining-for-sport. “Bill, Alaska isn’t a Disney park, and grizzlies and glaciers were not engineered with your safety and enjoyment as the highest priority.”
Bill stopped pacing.
Marco popped the gearbox into neutral and waited for an iceberg to drift across their bow, then tapped forward again, aiming the boat through a skinny gap.
“Nature doesn’t give a shit about us. This is the wilderness, and you have to be ready to deal with that if you’re gonna explore this place. We’re being appropriately cautious.”
Bill laughed. “Says the man who fell off a cliff just…how many days ago?”
Touché.
“Yeah, okay, you have a point there. No matter how much you prepare, you can’t be ready for everything.”
“I’ve heard those fast-moving cliffs can really sneak up on a person.” Bill was not backing down. “Wait, did you say grizzly? Were those grizzlies that almost had us for lunch?”
“Well, technically, the smaller bears in the interior and the Lower Forty-Eight are called grizzlies. The larger bears here in coastal Alaska are usually called brown bears. Same species.” Marco tapped reverse to stop the boat, then regretted it.
He didn’t want the prop backing into the bottom of a bergy bit and getting damaged.
“Coastal brown bears feed on salmon, so they grow a lot bigger than the mostly plant eaters farther inland.”
Bill crossed his arms. “So the next time I’m about to get mauled by a bear, at least I’ll know the genus and species.
Thanks, Science Guy.” Bill always laughed at his own jokes, funny or not.
It was part of his charm. He had always been one of Marco’s dearest friends and they’d always sparred.
It was their favorite sport, apparently.
Radio Flyer was just rounding a bend, and the spectacular South Sawyer Glacier came into view, its towering ice cliffs stretching high into the sky.
The glacier’s face was marked by the recent calving of numerous icebergs, which now floated in the water, creating a surreal and awe-inspiring sight.
Marco could almost sense the constant movement and shifting of the glacier, making it seem like a living and breathing entity.
Bill whistled. “Wow…Wow!”
Marco turned off the SSB radio. The static had become a nuisance now, making it hard to have a conversation. He was surprised Bill hadn’t asked more about it. Any real radio guy would have at least turned up the squelch to get rid of the hiss.
He continued to maneuver the boat through the giant sea of floating ice toward the glacier. “It looks like we’re close, but notice on the radar here, we’re still a mile away from the face. It’s not safe to get much closer than this. That wall of ice is several hundred feet high.”
Bill stared straight ahead, his eyes wide. “What about the glacier ice you promised for our cocktails?”
“We’ll grab ourselves a chunk of glacier ice much more safely from one of these floating…” Marco was distracted by a huge flock of seagulls rising frantically into the air. “Look! Watch, watch!” He pointed toward the glacier.
A wide swath of the glacial face began to slide downward, chunks the size of office buildings breaking off and plummeting into the water.
One vertical spire began to tilt forward, broke loose, and hit with a huge splash.
About that time, the sound of the glacier calving reached the boat—like a jet plane taking off.
As thousands of tons of ice continued to cascade into the water, the surface of the sea warped upward into an enormous dark dome.
A column of ice the size of an oil tanker broke loose deep below the surface and emerged violently, reaching for the sky then crashing forward toward them.
The water dome broke into a giant wave headed their way.
Bill stood mouth agape, staring straight ahead, the phone he had been using to take video hanging at his side. “Are we about to die?”
“I don’t think so, but hold on, this could be exciting.
” Marco pushed the throttle and turned Radio Flyer directly toward the approaching wave.
The boat began to ascend, as if someone had just pushed the top-floor elevator button in a high-rise.
They reached the peak of the swell. Marco’s heart rose into his throat and his stomach lurched as they began the roller-coaster ride downhill on the other side.
The boat veered and began to heel to starboard. Marco turned the wheel right and bumped the throttle up. A loud bang echoed through the vessel as the hull struck a floating chunk of ice.
“That sounded like a car crash!” Bill stood, gripping the back of the helm chair as Marco steered Radio Flyer between two more bergies.
“Don’t think we broke anything, but I’ll go below and check in a bit. Hang on.” Marco spun the wheel again and backed off the throttle.
After a few more seconds, the wave had passed. Marco put the boat into neutral, and looked around to be sure they were not about to hit anything else. His knees were shaking. He willed his fingers to release their grip on the wheel.
Marco donned his protective earmuffs, opened the engine room hatch, and banged his knee as he climbed down into the bilge.
He shouted back toward Bill. “I’m gonna go make sure everything is okay. Holler if we are about to bump anything. Those three switches on the bottom right in front of you are for the emergency bilge pumps. If you hear me yell, turn them all on.”