Paulette and I, married for nearly 50 years, awakened early on the fifth day of our Alaskan cruise aboard the Norwegian Encore. This was the day we had been looking forward to most—the highlight of our seven-day journey: Glacier Bay.

I’ve been fascinated by glaciers for as long as I can remember. My earliest memories of these ancient, majestic rivers of ice come from the pages of old National Geographic magazines I used to thumb through at my father’s parents' home in Wichita, Kansas, almost 70 years ago. Those glossy photos of immense blue ice and towering walls captured my imagination. Ever since then, I’ve dreamed of visiting Alaska to witness these wonders firsthand. Finally, in July 2024, Paulette and I decided to pull the trigger on this bucket-list adventure.

The Anticipation Builds

On the morning of July 4th, we were nearly there. We felt the ship moving slowly through the still waters, and out the balcony of our stateroom, I could see the shrouded mountains of Glacier Bay passing by, their summits obscured by a thick layer of cloud. It was a cool, cloudy day, the kind that makes you want to bundle up in a warm coat and savor a hot drink.

We decided to fuel up with our usual breakfast of fruit and hot cereal in the Savor dining room. As we sat there, the anticipation hung in the air—there was an excited hum among the other passengers. Everyone knew this was the day we had been waiting for. We quickly finished our breakfast and made our way back to our stateroom, eager to set up our video gear on the balcony.

Our stateroom was the perfect vantage point. We had a private little slice of the outdoors, protected from the wind yet with an expansive view of the bay. It felt like we had front-row seats to one of nature's most breathtaking shows.

The Glacier Bay Experience Begins

As we sailed deeper into Glacier Bay, the scenery grew more dramatic. Towering peaks framed the bay on all sides, their slopes thick with dense forests that seemed to cling precariously to the steep mountainsides. Waterfalls cascaded down in thin ribbons, fed by the melting ice above. The water was a deep, almost mysterious shade of green, reflecting the clouds overhead. The air was crisp, with just a hint of salt carried on the breeze.

It was like a twelve-hour personal tour of one spectacular view after another. The captain made announcements over the PA system, providing a gentle narration of the day's journey, pointing out notable features, and giving us a heads-up when we were approaching the glaciers themselves.

As we neared the first glacier, the ship slowed to a near standstill, and I felt a flutter of excitement. This was it! The massive glacier loomed in front of us, its surface riddled with jagged crevasses and deep-blue ice that seemed to glow from within. The captain rotated the ship a full 360 degrees, allowing everyone on board to get an unobstructed view of the glacier. It was mesmerizing.

While there was no grand calving—no thunderous splash of ice breaking away and crashing into the water—the sight was spectacular nonetheless. Watching the glacier from a distance was a humbling experience. These ancient ice masses have been sculpting the landscape for thousands of years, slowly advancing and retreating, leaving behind deep fjords and valleys.

The Magic of Hopkins Bay

Later in the afternoon, we entered Hopkins Bay. This section was quieter, more remote. The water was still, almost mirror-like, reflecting the stark beauty of the surrounding ice and rock. I noticed a small ship anchored near one of the glaciers, its white hull contrasting sharply with the blue ice. A raft with a half-dozen or so people was making its way back to the ship. I raised my camera, zooming in to capture the scene. Later, when I reviewed the photo, I could make out the name on the side of the ship—it was a National Geographic vessel.

My mind raced with images of what an adventurous day they must have been having, getting up close to the glaciers, perhaps even stepping onto the ice itself. I imagined them paddling around in kayaks, listening to the deep groans of the glacier and the occasional thunderous crack of ice shifting somewhere within. What a thrill that must have been! While we were content with our view from the comfort of our stateroom, I couldn’t help but feel a little twinge of envy for those explorers.

A Personal Connection

Throughout the day, I found myself reflecting on those early memories of glaciers from my childhood. How incredible it was to finally be here, nearly seventy years later, seeing these magnificent natural wonders with my own eyes. I thought about my father and grandparents, who had sparked my fascination with far-off places and wild landscapes. They would have loved this. I felt a deep sense of gratitude, not just for this trip, but for all the adventures Paulette and I have shared over the decades.

We spent most of the day on our balcony, wrapped in blankets, sipping hot tea, and marveling at the scenery. We took turns with the camera, capturing videos and photos of the ever-changing landscape. It was almost like a private, uninterrupted screening of a nature documentary, with nature itself as the star. Every turn of the ship offered a new, jaw-dropping perspective.

A Farewell to Glacier Bay

As we began to leave Glacier Bay and head back towards more open water, we decided to stretch our legs and take a walk down to Deck 8, where the promenade offered a wider view. We walked aft, to the back of the ship, and there, in our wake, we saw our sister ship, the Norwegian Bliss, miles behind us. It was silhouetted against the mountains that surrounded Glacier Bay, a tiny dot in a vast wilderness. It reminded me just how small we humans are in the grand scheme of things, how vast and untamed the world can still be.

By then, the light was beginning to fade, and a soft twilight settled over the bay. The mountains began to merge into the shadows, and the water took on a darker hue. The sense of tranquility was almost overwhelming. There was no sound but the gentle lapping of the water against the hull and the distant calls of seabirds echoing across the bay.

Evening Reflections

As the day came to an end, Paulette and I returned to our room, exhilarated but tired from the day's visual feast. We decided to skip the usual evening entertainment and instead ordered room service—a light dinner of soup and sandwiches—to enjoy on our balcony. Wrapped in each other's warmth and comfort, we watched as the last light of day slipped below the horizon. The sky turned a soft shade of pink, then deepened to purple as night fell.

We talked about our favorite moments of the day, laughed about the small things, and marveled again at how lucky we were to be experiencing this together. Paulette turned to me, a soft smile on her lips, and said, "I think this might just be the best day of our lives." I had to agree.

A Journey Worth Waiting For

That day in Glacier Bay was everything I had imagined and more. It was a reminder of the beauty of our planet and the importance of preserving these wild, untamed places. It was also a testament to the power of dreams and the joy of finally seeing them come true, even if it takes seventy years.

As we drifted off to sleep that night, lulled by the gentle rocking of the ship and the distant sound of waves, I felt a deep sense of peace. We still had a couple of days left on our Alaskan adventure, but I knew that Glacier Bay would remain the highlight of our trip—a day that would live forever in our memories, a day when a lifelong dream was finally realized.

A Final Glimpse

The next morning, I awoke early, hoping for one last glimpse of Glacier Bay before we sailed too far away. The sky was still overcast, but there was a certain softness to the light that made everything look almost dreamlike. Paulette was still asleep, so I quietly slipped out onto the balcony, wrapping myself in a warm blanket.

In the distance, I could still make out the faint outline of the mountains, shrouded in mist, slowly fading into the horizon as we sailed further south. I felt a pang of longing, wishing I could stay just a little longer in that magical place. But I also felt a sense of fulfillment and contentment, knowing that I had finally seen the glaciers that had fascinated me for so many years.

Paulette soon joined me, and together we watched as Glacier Bay disappeared from view, leaving us with memories we would cherish forever. As the Norwegian Encore sailed on to our next destination, I knew that this journey to Alaska was everything we had hoped for and more. It was a dream come true, a moment of a lifetime, and a testament to the adventures that still lie ahead for us, even after nearly fifty years together.