Enjoying The Craic On An Alaskan Cruise

By Gwen Orel

April Verch nearly missed the boat. Literally. Booked as a performer on Pat Moran's 1st annual Celtic Music Cruise to Alaska, a glitch in airport radar had her still in transit an hour before the boat was to sail.

Pat checked the schedule and said her evening concert wasn't for a few days. He had forgotten for a moment that we were not at a Festival, but on a boat.

How long would it take for her drive to Juneau, our first port of call? Too long.

We were scheduled to stop there, at the mining town of Skagway, and at salmon capital Ketchikan, before returning to Vancouver. In between there were days at sea.

When we walked into dinner we saw the bespectacled, petite Ottawa Valley fiddler/singer/dancer at our table before us.

When she performed at the opening night concert, she wore borrowed clothing and tap shoes she found backstage.

It was a fantastic way to kick off a terrific experience. Things are just a little different out on the ocean (loved playing "out on the ocean" onboard). If you get a chance to go on a Celtic music cruise: do it.

Joanie Madden is running her first in 2012; Andy Cooney sails every year; Debra Casey books many beloved performers and Gertie Byrne charters the whole ship.

The Alaska cruise, which will be repeated next year, focused on playing; others focus more on singing.

I went as an "embedded journalist," having interviewed Pat for a round-up of Celtic Music cruises for Irish Examiner USA back in January (www.irishexaminerusa.com/mt/2011/01/04/ceilidh_on_the_carribbean_why.html).

About 150 Celtic music players and family joined the Holland America ship the Zuiderdam in June.

Alasdair Fraser, Scottish fiddler and the driving force behind the Valley of the Moon Fiddle Camp, among others, was the headliner and artistic director, joined by co-performer, cellist Natalie Haas. His students and fans were among the first to sign up.

The other performers were Irish flutist Shannon and Matt Heaton, and the April Verch Band.

Some people found out about the Cruise from artist mailing lists, others from flyers at Sebastopol Festival.

People came who had cruised before, and some, like me, who had never cruised.

Some wanted to go to Alaska, some didn't care where they went so long as there was music and dancing.

I was glad to have the Heatons there, because I found myself at sea in more ways than one.

I play Irish fiddle and don't know a lot of Scottish tunes. Thank you Shannon for asking me to start one, and we'd go into "Cup of Tea" or "Swinging on the Gate."

I learned some new to me tunes in sessions, as well as in Alasdair's morning classes. But I learned more than tunes.

Alasdair's teaching asked us to find "fiddle-do," and opening up into "the groove part of your life."

He explained, "There are so many people in our society that have never grooved."

And they are even told not to, by teachers, at sessions. Alasdair encouraged us to find that part of ourselves, to use harmonies and counterpoints.

"Dolphin!" "Rainbow!" people shouted as he spoke, on the deck by the swimming pool.

As people shouted "ooh!" and "look," Alasdair said "should I just shut up?" Not too many teachers get upstaged by the spout of a whale.

For 17-year-old Wesley Hardisty, observing teachers was the best part of the cruise. "As tired as I was in the mornings, it was totally worth getting up."

He found out about the cruise at a folk club in British Columbia where he happened to see April Verch.

He has already performed at the Four Host First Nations Pavilion in the 2010 Olympic Games, and has been selected as one of ten emerging Aboriginal artists by the Aboriginal People Television Network.

Originally Pat had only scheduled workshops for three of the eight days, but that quickly changed.

People who came on board with their instruments wanted to play them. Soon the performer-teachers were leading classes every morning.

I found a group of intermediate players that met to play together in the afternoons. It wasn't yet at "Paul Keating" scheduling levels for Catskills Irish Arts Week, with different session levels and leaders.

Of course, in the Catskills you don't also have to work around port of call days.

Excursions are a key feature of a cruise. They can be sight-seeing or adventure.

A pair of cellists who study with Natalie went on a Zip line. I don't mind not having done that, or taken a raft down a river, but if I return to Alaska I definitely want to go to the bobsled camp and cuddle a husky puppy, as did Larry Tobias.

He came with his girlfriend Janette Duncan, who teaches in Alsadair's camps.

Larry took a "blackmail photo" of me asleep in the hot tub on the last sailing day.

At our first port of call in Juneau, I literally bumped into Shannon and Matt.

I had booked a sightseeing excursion to a hatchery and Mendenhall glacier, and had time left over.

There's something about strolling around a sunny town in Alaska, wearing your cruise lanyard, that's just relaxing.

Yes, I'm a tourist, the lanyard declares. I can't pretend not to be, so I'll just enjoy it!

Shannon and Matt came with family-their 9-month old baby Nigel, of course, but also Shannon's mom and stepdad, and Matt's sister, brother and aunt.

For Shannon, the marriage of the relaxation and restorative nature of a cruise with the intense instruction was a major draw (and the vacation part is why so many people brought their non-playing family along).

"A teaching week can be so all consuming in its teachingness, and getaways can be boring," she said. "Here there was more emphasis on having a fun week and making music, vs. just making music all the time."

Shannon has sailed with Debra Casey and the Makem brothers before. The instrumental emphasis on this one appealed to her.

Of course, it is a cruise, and that means vacation. There is unlimited food, menus with no prices (drinks are separate, but surprisingly reasonable); towels folded into animal shapes at night; a casino; the Crow's Nest bar at the top of the ship with a sweet guest library next to it.

Every night you get a schedule with suggested excursions for last minute reservations in the mail slot outside your room (for some reason the cruise ships push you to buy jewelry; they own jewelry shops in town and have "workshops" about it on board).

For traveling musicians, it's wonderful to be in a different place every day and not have to pack and unpack. For anyone, it's amazing to watch the gorgeous scenery go by.

Spending downtime with teachers and friends on a train in the mining town of Skagway, seeing black bears in the distance, is something special.

I went on the "Skagway Ghosts and Goodtime Girls" walking tour with Scottish country dancer Geri Stuart and others from the boat.

Joyce Beaton brought her mum, who turned 82 the first day of the cruise.

Craig Hammer and his wife had tickets for Hawaii and their 25th wedding anniversary to go on the Celtic Music cruise to Alaska. And she doesn't even play.

"It wasn't even hard," said Craig, to make that decision. He really wanted to see whales - and he did. And, "my ears are full," he said.

The wall of sound from the sessions was inspiring, with cellos and guitars playing rhythm, and strong melodies from fiddle and flute.

As I listen to recorded interviews to confirm quotes, I miss it all. But then again, I can be reminded of it when listening to Alasdair and Natalie's new album 'Highlander's Farewell', which includes "The Pitnacree Ferryman," one of the tunes he taught us, or the new April Verch album, 'That's How We Run', or Shannon Heaton's 'The Blue Dress'.

Our group had a private party and session in the Crow's Next, and the Scottish country dancers took the floor.

Clay Ross, who is in April Verch's band, sang some Brazilian songs and had us all play percussion on tables (bolted down, since we're at sea) and glasses.

For Clay, and for many others, the high point of the cruise was the "Fiddle raid on Ketchikan."

Alasdair planned it. We met on the gangplank at two and, playing, marched through the town.

If we played "Wind that Shakes the Barley" once, we played it 20 times; "St. Anne's Reel," ditto.

A cop shouted "Play The Devil goes Down to Georgia!" Alasdair walked us through gift stores; we went into small malls and rode the elevators; we crossed the street; people began to join in and follow us, including some local musicians.

Everyone smiled. "Come here!" shouted proprietors as we passed by. Tourists buying sweatshirts took our picture. We ended up in a bar.

Val Newsom of Washington couldn't help thinking of The Titanic, since Alasdair was a featured artist in it. When April got up on the trunk/coffee table of the bar, "how much better does it get than that?"

"It brought me back to Charleston, when I used to play in a jazz band there," Clay said.

"We used to go into little places and play unsuspectedly, watch peoples' little frowns turn into smiles. That's the power of music."

On our final night we had a session and party by the pool on the Lido deck. While Pat soaked in a hot tub, Alasdair went into a jig.

"I wasn't sure I was a cruise person," April told me that night. "I think I am." C

Gwen Orel publishes the blog and podcast New York Irish Arts, newyorkirisharts.blogspot.com