As I write this, I’m at the Heron’s Rest B&B in Petersburg, Alaska, looking out the window at the weather. In about an hour, I’m going to board the Catalyst, a 76-year-old historic research vessel that now serves as a floating home to eco-cruises along the Inside Passage of Alaska. I’m going primarily to hang out in the galley, working alongside my Le Cordon Bleu alum Anne-Catherine, as research for my second book. (I can’t talk about the project very much yet, sorry.)
To call the weather disappointing would be a major understatement. I had expected crisp, clear days with stunning views of the mountains, kind of like the photo here. I arrived to pouring, cold rain that came down as steady as a spigot and a charcoal smudged sky. Deirdre, my host here at the B&B, drove me through the rain last night to a place called The Waterfront,
dodging small deer as we drove. I listened to guys working on the highway project as I sat at the bar and ate some marvelous halibut tacos made with fresh, tangy pico de gallo. The rain calmed this morning, and the wind picked up in its place. Deirdre says that it’s normally sunny this time of year, with temperatures in the high 60s, sometimes 70s. For some reason, I didn’t look at the weather
before I left. All I can say is that I am glad the Catalyst folks suggested to pack for rain, and that my husband insisted on getting me the good long underwear at REI.
More later this week, as net access allows…