Crab Boats, Glaciers & a Queen’s Farewell to Alaska

Ingrid Lemme

9 hours ago

7 min read

Escape From Paradise with Ingrid Lemme-Chalut

Our Alaska Adventure: Crab Boats, Glaciers & a Queen

Published in the October 2026 issue of The Montauk Sun in print from Montauk through The Hamptons to Manhattan, and online at www.MontaukSun.com --- Edited by John Lomitola

One morning, Marcus and I bundled into raincoats aboard the Aleutian Ballad, an Alaska crab-fishing boat. A few days later, we flew over vast fields of ice and landed on a glacier. In between were afternoon tea, elegant dinners and the familiar comforts of Cunard’s Queen Elizabeth.

Alaska provided the adventure; our ship gave us a lovely place to return to each evening. Our eleven-night voyage began in Seattle on August 27, shortly after my husband Marcus celebrated his 81st birthday. The cruise was part of his birthday present and the beginning of our larger West Coast adventure.

From the moment we sailed north, the landscape made even these well-traveled visitors feel wonderfully small. It was also a farewell. ---- Cunard has confirmed that 2026 will be its final Alaska season, making our journey aboard Queen Elizabeth especially meaningful.

But first, Seattle, where we finally made it up the Space Needle!

Some landmarks remain on your list for years. Then you arrive, look out over the city and wonder why you waited so long. Built for the 1962 World’s Fair, Seattle’s famous tower still has its wonderfully optimistic, space-age silhouette.

Its expansive views were a fitting introduction to a trip that would repeatedly have us reaching for our cameras.

We stayed at Hyatt Place Seattle/Downtown and enjoyed the city before boarding. We especially appreciated the hotel’s close proximity to the Space Needle, downtown and the cruise terminal, which made exploring Seattle and getting to the ship wonderfully convenient—not to mention the fun breakfast crew.

Pike Place Market supplied delicious distractions, colorful flower bouquets, the famous fish throwing and a stop at the infamous Bubble Gum Alley. There was something wonderfully lively around every corner. At Le Panier, an insanely good almond croissant reminded us that sightseeing should always leave room for a bakery stop.

Boarding Queen Elizabeth felt comfortably familiar after our Caribbean sailing the previous year. Leah, our waitress on that voyage, recognized us, making the large ship feel personal. We settled into our balcony stateroom, delighted once again by the in-cabin kettle for tea.

Soon, Seattle was behind us and our attention turned north.

A Morning on a Crab Boat.

Ketchikan greeted us with rain and temperatures around 50 degrees. This was Alaska without the sunshine filter. After croissants and tea in our cabin, we boarded the Aleutian Ballad for the Bering Sea Crab Fishermen’s Tour. Raincoats were provided, and we were ready for a very different morning on the water.

For readers familiar with Deadliest Catch, the vessel’s name may ring a bell. Aleutian Ballad appeared in the television series and survived a dramatic rogue-wave encounter.

Today, she introduces visitors to Alaska’s fishing world in the protected waters of the Inside Passage. Despite the tour’s name, the excursion stays close to shore, away from the Bering Sea’s rougher waters.

Boarding a vessel with a working past was compelling. The boat, equipment and fishermen bring to life a world usually glimpsed on television or represented by the seafood on our plates. Fishing demonstrations, marine life and stories from experienced fishermen turn the deck into an outdoor classroom.

A viewing tank offers a close look at the catch before the animals are returned to the water, giving visitors an appreciation for both the creatures beneath the surface and the people whose livelihoods depend on them.

There is a close family connection for us as well. Our son, who grew up in Montauk, runs a crab boat on the North Carolina coast. Seeing Alaska’s version of that working world added a personal layer to the excursion

Fishing communities understand early departures, uncertain weather and the labor behind a beautiful piece of seafood. Alaska operates on an extraordinary scale, but respect for the water is a language that travels well from one coast to another. Our damp, chilly morning gave the outing character. We had come to see Alaska, and Alaska was under no obligation to look like a sunny brochure. We rather liked that.

At Icy Strait Point the following day, our walk brought us to the Historic Cannery District, where the salmon cannery dates back to 1912. We followed the waterfront boardwalk past weathered docks, a small cemetery and charming cottages with moss growing across their roofs. A fishing boat passed against a backdrop of misty mountains.

Inside the cannery museum, colorful vintage salmon labels and fishing displays offered a glimpse into the industry that helped shape Hoonah. We also noticed the large crab gear and immediately connected it with what we had seen aboard the Aleutian Ballad. From the working boat to the historic cannery, Alaska’s fishing heritage was becoming a recurring theme of our journey.

Ice, Otters and a Glacier Landing

Our time in Glacier Bay brought views of Margerie Glacier and a raft of sea otters near the ship.

On September 1, Hubbard Glacier rewarded us with clear weather despite an uncertain forecast. Seeing such immense ice from the ship was remarkable.

We also learned that Hubbard Glacier is not shrinking. In fact, it is advancing and growing, unlike some glaciers that are diminishing. Rising approximately 300 feet above the water’s surface, its towering blue-white face made an unforgettable impression as we viewed it from the ship.

The following day in Juneau, we experienced a glacier from a completely different perspective. A small bus collected us downtown and took us to the Coastal Helicopters base, where a friendly crew helped us into spiked boots and had us store our bags in a trunk.

Our pilot, Adam, would guide us through one of the defining experiences of our Alaska journey. A flight over this landscape would have been memorable enough. Knowing we would also land on the ice made it extraordinary.

From the air, “fields of ice” suddenly felt wonderfully accurate. The landscape stretched far beyond the view from a ship’s railing, on a scale difficult to absorb. Photographs could record it, but only suggest the sensation of flying above it. Here, we looked across a landscape that seemed to belong to another measure of time.

Then came the landing. There is a profound difference between admiring a glacier and standing on one, as we’d learned from our Montauk friends Christine and John McDonald. What had looked distant from the ship was suddenly beneath our feet. For a little while, we stood within the landscape we had traveled so far to see.

Sharing that moment with Marcus made it especially precious. My mountain man and I have enjoyed many beautiful places together, but this was something we would remember long after the suitcases were unpacked. We flew over Alaska’s ice fields and landed on a glacier. Sometimes the plain facts are extraordinary enough.

Thank you, Adam, for giving us an entirely new perspective on Alaska and explaining that some glaciers are actually advancing and growing, even as others are diminishing. ----- Back aboard Queen Elizabeth, we had plenty to talk about over dinner with the two interesting ladies at the neighboring table.

More Alaska Discoveries

In Haines, a photography outing with Karla Kenny of Rainbow Glacier Adventures brought scenery that would make any photographer’s heart sing. Of the ports we visited, this small town felt the least crowded with tourists, offering a welcome sense of everyday Alaska.

Sitka brought a morning harbor walk and the chance to watch a salmon run, another reminder of how closely life here is tied to the water.

There were so many salmon jumping up the ladder that Marcus joked there were enough of them for him to walk across their backs and make it to the other side. It was an incredible sight—and one we certainly won’t forget.

Lunch at Beak in town followed. Marcus chose a coho salmon salad sandwich with a dark Alaskan beer. I enjoyed blackened lingcod, along with pickled bull kelp rings. The kelp was a first for us!

On board, the days found their own gentle rhythm. A long breakfast in Britannia, a walk on deck and a few practice golf shots for Marcus fit comfortably around our sea days, while afternoon tea and warm scones became familiar pleasures.

The Masquerade Ball dinner included tuna tartare, a perfect Beef Wellington and, appropriately, Baked Alaska. We thank our head waiter, Savio Mendes, our waiter, Nilo, and his assistant for their impeccable service and patience throughout the voyage. After raincoats and outdoor layers, dressing for dinner had its own appeal. Cunard’s traditions added another dimension to the journey.

A Beautiful Farewell

Victoria and an excursion to Butchart Gardens provided a final change of scenery before our September 7 return to Seattle. Jennie Butchart began developing the gardens in 1904, eventually transforming an exhausted limestone quarry into the celebrated Sunken Garden. Seeing what her vision became was exceptional. Our highly informative and entertaining guide, Chris Coleman, made the visit even more enjoyable.

Our Alaska adventure was coming to an end.

I am grateful that we experienced Cunard’s final Alaska season aboard Queen Elizabeth. The memories I treasure most are wonderfully specific: raincoats on a crab boat, ice beneath our feet and Marcus beside me.

But our journey wasn’t quite over. After returning to Seattle, we rented a car and headed south through Washington, Oregon and Northern California. Our nearly three-week adventure—combining city sightseeing, cruising and a coastal road trip—eventually brought us to San Francisco and our flight home.

By the way, a little travel comfort tip from our flights: On the first leg of our journey to Seattle, we flew United in coach. After little sleep at the hotel the night before, I tried my FlyHugz travel pillow. We had tried earlier versions of similar pillows years ago, but they never quite did the trick. This time, to my surprise, I managed a couple of hours of sleep without my head dropping forward. On the way home, we flew American Airlines and upgraded to first class. The wider seats and extra space were welcome, but the seats didn’t recline very much. Once again, the FlyHugz came to the rescue!