Homer’s Spit — Quintessential Seaside Town with Alaskan Twist

Day 20, 2024 Ultimate Alaska

Friday, June 28, 2024; Homer, Alaska

When I first stepped ashore in Homer this morning, it looked unfamiliar. We tendered to a dock near the end of the Spit – a 4.5-mile sandbar jutting into Kachemak Bay south of Anchorage. But once we got from the tender dock in a large marina to the main (and only) road, it all came back to me – the tiny gift shops, the Salty Dawg Saloon with its dollar bills stapled to the walls and ceiling, and the seafarer’s memorial near the beach.

Homer itself is at the head of the spit. Passengers who didn’t book a tour had the option of jumping in a taxi or pre-purchasing a shore excursion ticket for the hop on-hop off bus. Eloise chose that option, while Elaine and I decided to exploration the spit on our own.

A row of cute colorful buildings on each side of the road offered not just the usual souvenirs, but also a nice assortment of paintings, handmade jewelry and clothes. Eloise said she learned in town that Homer is something of an artist colony, which explains why we saw so many nice items.

Homer also claims to be the halibut fishing capital of the world, and successful fishermen can pose with their catch at one of several fishing companies.

The Salty Dawg was packed, so we moved on farther down the spit to a recommended restaurant. It had no inside seating, and we decided it was just a bit cold and breezy for sitting at a picnic table.

By now the lunch crowd had passed so we got a window table across the street and shared fish and chips. This time the fried halibut chunks were on a skewer. It seemed like a good idea until I discovered that the breading between the pieces was a bit soggy. Still, the fish was great.

The seafarer’s memorial is just as somber as it was in 2010, with a few more names added to lists on the pillars. On clear days with smooth seas – as we have enjoyed – it’s easy to forget the dangers of the sea and those who have been lost.

The memorial is in a beautiful location, surrounded by lupines in bloom (or bluebonnets, as they are known in Texas) with snow-capped mountains just across the bay. I watched boys playing with their dog on the rocky beach – just as my nephews did when we were her in 2010 (minus the dog).

Before returning to the ship, I stopped to sketch the Salty Dog. I’m pushing myself to make my sketches more interpretive than just replicas of what is in front of me. So I turned around and added mountains behind the dive bar. Purists will note it’s not exactly accurate, but it represents my memory of Homer.

This is the last of our tender ports, and I would say perhaps it is one too many, as many passengers are grumbling. When Holland America first announced this 28-day cruise, the itinerary only showed Nome as a tender port. In reality, Homer makes number six. Sometimes, as in Sitka and Kodiak, a tender can drop us closer to town. But the wait to get on can stretch to an hour or more, and using the tenders may be difficult for mobility-challenged passengers. We avoided a long line today in Homer by waiting until almost noon to go ashore.

The Bird Dogs – a favorite Everly Brothers tribute duo from the world cruise – entertained on the World Stage tonight, providing one of the most popular and rousing shows of the cruise.

Tonight also was the traditional Orange Party, a celebration of Holland America’s Dutch heritage on almost every sailing. What once was Orange Day, with people wearing orange all day long, has morphed to Orange Night and now just Orange Party at 9 p.m. in the Rolling Stone Lounge. Mine wasn’t the only orange wig, and I saw lots of boas, hats, glasses and even an orange suit sported by my friend Pete.

We are at sea the next two days, with the second one cruising through Glacier Bay. It’s usually a highlight, with U.S. National Park rangers coming onboard to provide commentary and special programs.