The Willimers in America

Renewing our Wedding Vows - August 2008

I never got round to posting this. Or writing about the day. Or writing about lots of other things. So for your enjoyment...

Just Like That, only Later....!

I love to read biographies, but one problem I have here is that I'm not interested in baseball players or US politicians - I like to read about the TV personalities and sports heroes of my youth. So when Linda was in England to see the Osmonds, she kindly went book shopping for me and brought back two crackers, biographies of two slightly off the wall figures with interesting backgrounds - Tommy Cooper, one of the funniest men of British comedy who famously died on stage during a live TV broadcast, and the autobiography of Jools Holland, keyboard player with Squeeze, presenter of The Tube, and all round raconteur and musician. I saved these wonderful offerings for the Alaska trip.

I read the Tommy Cooper book first, and discovered that as well as a deceptively good magician, and being much loved and well-regarded by the highest figures in British comedy, he was also extremely mean, probably an alcoholic, and was increasingly unwell as he grew older. One incident in the book hardly stuck out until later. In the early 1980's, Tommy was asked to perform at an open-air concert at Clapham Common, as a support act for The Police. Not surprisingly, his act went down well with the first four rows, but terribly with the thousand's of festival-goers who couldn't see his slapstick magic or his comedic tics and facial expressions. Not a high spot in his illustrious career.

The Jools Holland book also recounts an episode - where Jools is asked to perform at an open-air concert at Clapham Common, topped by The Police, and when he is asked if he could accompany one of the other support acts, none other than Tommy Cooper ! Jools is asked to play Tommy's theme song, 'The Sheik of Araby' as he comes onstage, and perform a little 'Don't shoot the piano player' pantomime, in which Jools does indeed get shot. In his book, Jools describes this small incident with the honour and reverence reserved for one's true heroes. Tommy's book doesn't mention Jools at all...

Alaska Day 14 - Homeward Bound

Our last day in Alaska promised to be a full one, as our journey home began with a red-eye flight leaving at 9.30pm. From the outset, we had promised Tom that we would visit H2Oasis, which was a large indoor water park, and given his state of mind it was only fair we did not renege on this promise. In the event, while the description 'large' was wide of the mark, the place was fun, had one absolutely terrific water slide, and was not too busy, which made for a relaxed morning. Darlene (Jordan's girlfriend) had collected her boys from the airport the previous evening, and now her daughter Gwen arrived, so we had a group with five kids of varying ages. The tensions and tiredness of the long trip were washed away in the water, and it seemed such an appropriate way to end a trip like this. We did some last minute gift shopping on the way back, until we were fully stocked up with 'Alaska' tee shirts and sourdough starter. My favourite tee shirt is the one with a picture of a bear in the woods with a toilet roll in his hand - "Yes, they do" is the simple caption.

Tearful goodbyes, massed hugs and luggage packing at the Hicks house, but ultimately the six of us were alone at the airport. After returning the rental car, checking our bags, queuing for security, and grabbing some food we did not have a lot of time, but once on the plane it was time to reflect. I had thoroughly enjoyed pretty much everything we had packed into this trip - and boy did we pack it in ! I even managed to overcome my sometime natural tendency to overlook the 95% of good stuff and dwell on the 5% of less good things, but I easily put aside the punishing schedule, the sometime tired fractiousness, and Tom's growing grumpiness, and think only about the numerous marvellous sights we had seen.

Alaska is a fine place to visit, but it should also be regarded as a habitat - not just for the varied (and often dangerous) wildlife we heard so much about (even if I didn't see a bear !) - but also for a particular kind of person. We saw so many examples of people who have been drawn there from other parts of the country by something special - Ryan and Amy took such delight at being 'home' again that it is easy to see that Alaska has a big draw on those who do call it home. It is striking, particularly as so many Americans readily migrate around the country in the cause of jobs and family, that so many people are drawn here - it is impossible to resist the notion that there is something deep down inside a person that reaches out for the wildness and simpleness of life in Alaska. I know that thing is not inside me. It's not as simple as saying "I'm used to life's luxuries" or "I'm a modern person with modern tastes". I was inspired by the wonderful scenery and amazing beauty, and I would love to go back and see Alaska covered in snow. And I know that feeling - I felt it when I was in Australia, that wonderful rightness that you are in the right place. Maybe that's it - despite it's midnight sun, perhaps Alaska is just not sunny enough for me to make a home there. But I would certainly go as far as to say that everyone should see it once before they die - and given the multitude of ways to die in Alaska, maybe one sight is all you get...

Alaska Day 13 - Anchorage

It was back to Tina and Jake's for breakfast today, and what was intended to be an early start to a busy day slipped away to lunchtime. Jake had sorted out some rather decent fishing gear to allow Ryan to take us fishing for salmon this afternoon. Tom had mentioned this several times, not least because he and I are the self-declared 'worst fishermen in the world' after our escapades at Rosedale Park, where we managed to foul up the two fishing poles we had been loaned to practice with.

We went back to Ship Creek, where we had seen the salmon ladder earlier in the week, and with dire warnings about the riverside mud ringing in our ears, we set about hooking our supper. Ryan very clearly and patiently coached Tom in how to cast for salmon, and I watched amazed as Tom proceeded to spent the next 50 minutes patiently throwing out his cast, watching the hook float downstream, winding it back, resetting his line, and casting again - over and over, showing a patience and serenity I really did not know he possessed. Unfortunately there was no sign of any salmon on our stretch of the creek (truth be told, there were no salmon to be seen anywhere) so we moved to another location where Tom showed his true colours by ignoring Ryan's advice on where to stand, tumbling on his backside in the sticky mud, and having to be rescued before his boots disappeared from view.  Despite a further 20 minutes of patient casting (albeit downstream instead of upstream) we were no nearer hooking a fish, so decided to call it a day.

     

However our trip home was circuitous, since Jake quietly announced that he had got one of his father's float planes, and was offering to take us on a quick flight-seeing trip. This precipitated another meltdown - despite the attractions of the flight, this was another example of telling Tom what he was going to do next, and what had been perceived and intended as a nice surprise was interpreted by his tired 11 year old mind as more 'bossing around'. A concerted effort to understand his feelings, but make him understand everyone's good intentions came to nothing, when the ignition starter on Jake's plane came off in his hand, and the flights had to be aborted. Despite the earlier protestations about the care and attention lavished on these planes as compared to my and your car, I have to say I was in two minds about accepting a ride in a plane where pieces fell off so easily.

    

That evening, we ordered in some cracking pizza, and said goodbye to Shane and Missy, who were heading home to Eugene, Oregon via San Francisco. These brave souls had booked a flight which departed sometime after 1am.

       

More pictures here.

There really is no such thing as night flights from Anchorage in the summer, and given the time difference, flights often have to leave incredibly early to get to the East Coast before the end of the following day. One of our morning rituals has been the sight of Shane and I bent over our laptops with a mug of Bob's excellent coffee, trying to capture the previous day's events on our blogs. I admit defeat to Shane, who always kept up to date, always seemed to have his photos better organised, managed to capture the day's events in far fewer words than me, and managed to find internet connectivity in the most remote places (though not, of course, in the cabin at Rainbow Valley). You can read Shane's version of events here.

Alaska Day 12 - Back to Crow Creek

This morning we rose and headed back to Crow Creek. It's become increasingly important to try and give Tom some say in what we do. He is feeling a bit put upon, since most of the time the adults tell him where we are going next for his enjoyment, not expecting any reluctance. I think his ill temper has a lot to do with this. Despite the fact that everything we are doing is meant to be enjoyable, we are packing a lot in and there is often not a lot of room for debate.

Crow Creek was historically an active gold mine, but has now become a tourist attraction. There are several original mine buildings, and a path to the creek where visitors can pan for gold. On entry we were given a shovel, a pan, and a lesson in how to pan, as well as a small sample containing gold with which to practice. I am sure that many visitors, like us, lose even the small amount of gold in this packet without perfecting the panning technique. After about 40 minutes of fruitless panning, much of it in standing in a heavy downpour, we decided to leave. At the time I could not decide whether this was a quaint historical document being kept alive by dedicated enthusiasts, or whether there was a very clever marketing ploy, playing on people's instinctive desire to 'strike it rich'. Shane assured me that he knew the people who owned it, that his brother had been married there, and it was indeed a genuine landmark. The sight of a family of gold-diggers, returning from the creek with their generator, pumps and highly advanced filtering equipment also vouched for it's genuineness, if not the historical side.

         

There are more pictures here.

In the evening we headed to Tina and Jake's for a family barbecue, where we met several new members of Ryan's family, and sampled his efforts to grill salmon on cedar planks and a large prime rib of beef - not bad at all, Ryan ! I took Tom away for a while, as his mood had not improved. We went to Barnes and Noble to look for his summer reading books, but when we got back food was served, Frisbees came out and Tom had a thoroughly good time before we dragged him away, at what appeared to be an all-too-early hour.

In fact we have been thrown several times by the 'midnight sun' here in Alaska, even though we were warned about it. It's not the brightness in the night sky that is the problem. Soon after midnight, the sky gets dark and overcast - not truly night, but with the duskiness in the sky and quietness in the street you can tell it's late. No, the problem is the evening, when the light in the sky does not change from 4pm in the afternoon till after 11 o'clock and there is no sensation of time progressing. Often we have got up from our evening meal ready for the next activity, only to find that it is after 10.30pm and  certainly time for Tom to be in bed. Alaskans (like Bob and Mary) are obviously disciplined about this, and get themselves off to bed at 'normal' times. Not for the first time, it is after 1am before Linda and I settle down.