On Tuesday, July 29th, we sailed into Glacier Bay.  It was a beautiful sunny day with spectacular tidewater glaciers up ahead.  All eyes on board were turned toward the Margerie Glacier.  The bay was still.  The ship was quiet.  The air was cool.  Chunks of floating ice were evident from the calving glacier, which we were hoping to see and hear.
A picture or paragraph cannot tell the story adequately, but there were amazing reflections on this blue-sky day as another of nature's magnificent monuments was, like a magnet, drawing us closer and closer to it.  We were told that this, the Margerie Glacier, is over a mile wide, several miles long, and hundreds of feet high.
Then there was a sharp crack, like a gunshot or a
bolt of lightning ... and we saw where a piece of
glacier was breaking off ... and it seemed to fall into the bay in slow motion ... but it happened fast ... and the sound was like a roar of thunder when it hit the water ... and it was all over while we were still holding our breath.
It seemed to be our own private glacier when viewed from our own private deck, rather than on the Sports Deck or Navigation Deck with others, but we couldn't reach out and touch it.  It loomed so large, yet it remained over a mile from our ship.
We learned that glacier ice is extremely dense, much more dense than our refrigerator ice cubes, and that the glacier surface gets all cracked up into huge crevasses because it's not elastic.  It splits and spreads as it turns corners and maneuvers through the mountainous region like a crawling caterpillar, and it is all quite grand.
One evening we celebrated a friend's birthday, and some of the crew members were happy to join the festivities.  Then we danced to ballroom music in the Ocean Bar and sang at the Piano Bar.  Some nights we attended live entertainment shows at the Van Gogh Theater and danced at the Crow's Nest.
Our ship anchored off the City of Sitka on Wednesday, July 30th, where we disembarked onto "tenders," smaller boats that ferried us between ship and shore.  Sitka was the Russian capital of Alaska from 1808 to 1867.  We learned that the original people to this area were the Tlingit Indians who came to break off into several other tribes, some peaceful, some noted for being rather contentious. 
Allan and I signed up for a "Sea Otter and Wildlife Quest" on a small cruising boat that held about 30 people and we observed whales, otters, sea lions, a rare colorful "puffin" bird -- even a deer, bear, and eagles' nest on shore.  We were served a delicious smoked salmon canape, for which I've now got the recipe. 
It was a warm and balmy day for delving into these more secluded corners of Alaska.  We made it back to the Statendam just in time for our 5:45 dinner seating.  I chose beef tenderloin.  The previous night I had picked prime rib and crab cocktail.
At other times of the day we often browsed the ship's bountiful buffets, which were available many times in a 24-hour period, and that's when we probably ate too much, but it was all extremely scrumptious.
At Juneau, the current capital of Alaska, our cruise ship pulled up directly to the city's deep docks and we didn't need tenders.  Allan and I headed off to board the Mount Roberts Tramway which rose 2,000 feet for an incredible view of this landlocked port.  The cable cars each held approximately 20 people.  At the top we watched a narrated drama as performed by a descendant of the Tlingit people.
We learned that cruise ships (formerly steamships) began arriving in Juneau in 1884.  There was no other way to get to this place prior to air travel.  We enjoyed shopping in Juneau and met our travel friends at the Red Dog Saloon for lunch.
St. Nicholas Orthodox Church, which we then visited, is the oldest original Russian Orthodox Church in Southeast Alaska.  Allan and I also enjoyed a trolley around town where it seems that most people are tourists just like us.  We were told that if it weren't for tourism and government, most Alaskans would be mostly unemployed.
Some of us signed on for a helicopter ride over the mountains along Juneau to the Mendenhall Glacier where "out of this world" became more than a catchy phrase.  There were six of us on the helicopter, plus the pilot.  Allan used our camcorder and I used my digital camera, but no video or photograph can capture or compare to the real thing.
Crystal blue was a dominant color, especially in the deep crevasses of the jagged glacier surface.  Views were astounding as we surveyed the greatness of the uninhabitable territory.
I was sort of frightened by the possibility of slipping into one of the crevasses, which could have swallowed me whole, and I was surprised that our helicopter pilot would land in such treacherous terrain and allow us to walk everywhere that we did.  He said the surface of the glacier was like "velcro" on this particular day, that our boots would stick to it and that it was not a slippery surface.  Slippery or not, I was timid on its top and glad to be back in the copter.
On our whirlybird flight back to Juneau I got to sit in the front seat.  Every moment begged for another snapshot.  Unbelievably breathtaking.  Otherworldly. 
Pretty amazing.
From this ethereal vantage point we could easily see how a medial moraine was formed.  A medial moraine is a black line that is visible down the center of some glaciers, and it develops when two glaciers that are advancing down through the mountains meet each other to form an even larger glacier.  The black line results from the meeting of the two glaciers' "dirty" edges.
We were told by our young pilot that only six times this year has he experienced a day so perfect that the top of the spectacular mountains were so visible, so clearly protruding so high into Alaskan sky.
Again, we made it back to the ship in time for our 5:45 p.m. dinner seating, where moist and meaty mussels melted in my mouth.  Then we watched a musical performance put on by the many young people working on the ship.  Andy, our own table waiter, happened to be the master of ceremonies so we felt especially connected.
We learned that all the ship's waiters were from the Philippines and all the kitchen helpers were from Indonesia and never the twain shall mixt.  At the conclusion of the performance, the entire audience from around the world stood up and joined them in a solemn rendition of "American the Beautiful."  It gave me the shivers.
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