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handled it like a motor-boat. He was a rough-hewn sort of man, not given to any
airs or graces (passengers were there to earn money for the company; I never saw
him evidencing any interest in socialising) and he thought that I was something
special, inasmuch as he believed that a deep-sea ticket was really worth more than
his coastal masters’, and that my being in law school demonstrated something
exceptional. My ego was not so overblown, however, as to think that I could ever
handle a ship with the facility that he demonstrated. To me, one of the finest of
Captains, in all respects, with whom I had been privileged to sail.

Equally important was my view of the other officers, all highly competent
and quite willing to impart to a callow youth like me all of the experience gleaned
on a coast of such complexity. Additionally, my view of the ‘Canadian Seaman’
changed dramatically. CPR employed for the long-term; everybody knew their
job, no drink or drugs, and all were completely professional. I could see why Yates
was a happy counterpart to the sombre Wiggins.

While she was away in Port of Spain a fortunate coincidence occurred and the
then Bishop (or Archdeacon, I know not which) of Trinidad, one and the same
man who might have married us, was now installed in Port of Spain and thus
able to christen David. Neither of us had any particular Christian predilections
(I had been to a school where we had to attend three services each Sunday, quite
enough to tire one of dogma) so, again, an insurance issue (just in case Pascal’s
Wager about God held water) for his future welfare, at least in the Hereinafter, if
not for this life.

While I enjoyed the experience of Patricia, I should say that I could not
see how that type of ship could really compete with the big white ships in this
arena. The vessel was small enough for passengers to be able to get to know
each other, but the facilities included in such ships could not compete with
the plethora of pleasures possible in the conventional cruise vessels. It could
not be ignored, either, that the Alaska climate was highly variable; of the forty-
five cruises that I undertook over the three summers, I could say that only
ten or so were accompanied by even good weather. Additionally, the cuisine
was unimaginative; for example, on the penultimate day of each cruise, the
main hot course at dinner was broiled ox-tongue. I myself had no problem with
this myself (Mother prepared the dish superbly) but for American passengers I
thought it akin to serving devilled kidneys or tripe and onions, hardly winners
in the land of hamburgers. But nobody asked my opinion; and I wasn’t going to
bite the hand that fed me.

I was greeted on the pier by Judith, again on our Anniversary, after giving due
thanks to Captain Harris, from whom I had learned much but never expected to
see again, as I thought that the next year would see the total dominance of the
big cruising vessels. In driving home, I found myself confronted by a startled

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