Contrast is the degree of difference between two qualities or settings. While this term is used quite commonly in regards to photography it also applies very effectively to life aboard an expedition vessel. One moment you are waking up in the cozy and warm comfort of your bed and the next finds you out hiking through crisp and cool Alaskan temperate rain forests. Enjoying an informative lecture and conversation in the lounge regarding various forms of energy in the region contrasted with sitting atop a boulder on the shoreline reflecting on the complete quietude of the intertidal zone. Having all the luxuries one could hope for from hot showers to an espresso machine on National Geographic Sea Bird to the pristine wilderness of Southeast Alaska really allow for the best of both worlds. Walking along mist shrouded trails, steps carved right into and through the otherwise impassable rocks, allowing easy access deep into the woodland that would in different circumstances take considerable effort to navigate through. Here, one is able to go trekking into an unknown ecosystem, unenlightened of the nuances of how exactly the plant life is struggling to out compete each other, just taking pleasure in the aesthetically stunning sights. But on the way back, thanks to informative naturalists, eyes (and minds) have been opened and now the trees have names and stories that help us to decipher the beautiful mystery of this place.
The main juxtaposition of the day is from morning to afternoon, where we go from the rugged backcountry to comparative metropolis of Petersburg. The contrast of being in a remote wilderness area in the morning and a bustling fishing town (albeit a remote one) is a pleasant experience to bounce between. But even here there is a delightful polarity. Exploring along the docks one might find an adorable puppy living aboard one of the robust and weathered trawlers. The Norwegian heritage of the founders is proudly displayed throughout the town, with a dramatically higher regularity of Viking helmets and axes in windows than most small villages would contain. The irony now that our vessel, full of predominantly Anglo-Saxons, has sailed through fjords to raid (and lightly pillage) the various gift shops is not discussed. But while ships (and crew) are quite comfortable in a port, it is not where they belong, so before too long we cast our lines and bid civilization yet another temporary farewell. Our expedition is still truly just beginning, with so many more unknowns (and analogies) ahead of us to experience, like a new memory card, just waiting to be filled.
