Pavlof Harbor & Iyoukeen Inlet
We felt very lucky this morning as we came into Pavlof Harbor, dropped anchor and found a brown bear moseying along the opposite beach. Some of us weren’t sure if we should call it luck or trepidation when we sighted two more bears, a sow and her cub walking along our intended landing beach. The two wandered off into the forest, so we made our landing to explore the temperate rainforest and intertidal zone of Chichagof Island.
It is spring time in Southeast Alaska. The fiddle heads of lady ferns are unfurling, ready to bask in the radiance of the summer sun. In the shade of the forest, down around our ankles, we found diminutive yellow and purple violets in bloom. Salmonberry bushes are laden with delicate pink flowers, with a visit from a pollinator, the alchemy from fragile blossom to succulent fruit will soon be forthcoming. The brilliant yellow cloak of the skunk cabbage attracted our attention in an otherwise green forest palette. It is the scent, or perhaps more accurately described as an odor, that attracts a pollinator to this plant. The mantra of a skunk cabbage could be “If you stink, they will come.”
We carried our luck with us as we explored Chatham Strait in the afternoon. Barely peeking out of Pavlof Harbor we came upon a group of humpback whales. This wasn’t just luck, this was the jackpot. For the first time in the approximate six weeks the National Geographic Sea Bird has been in Southeast Alaska we found a group of cooperative bubble-net feeding humpback whales. We spent the entire afternoon with these ten whales, watching and listening as they repeatedly rushed to the surface with their mouths agape, gulping both water and herring. They used their baleen to sieve the herring and subsequently swallow, spitting out the water beforehand. With our hydrophone, we listened to an underwater humpback troubadour-wannabe. This was not singing. This was a boisterous underwater vocalization meant to frighten little herring into a tighter, more efficiently eaten mass.
On the periphery of the feeding group a humpback calf demonstrated the complete repertoire of aerodynamic possibilities a whale could contort its body into. We photographed and applauded as this youngster repeatedly breached and then crashed back into the water, tossed its peduncle about, slapped the waters surface with its humongous pectoral fins and performed two versions of lob tailing, upside down and right side up.
That wasn’t all. Black and white swimming bombs exploded at the water’s surface. Some call these Dall’s porpoises, we called them sheer fun. They zigzagged all around us and periodically rode the pressure wave created off our bow.
Just before dinner as we gathered in the lounge someone asked if this day had been “normal.” I think paranormal would be a more accurate description. The combination of non-rainy weather, wildlife sightings, species and numbers, whale behaviors and overall encounters will never be duplicated as we experienced them today. We feel privileged, and slightly exhausted, to have this as our first full day’s exploration of Southeast Alaska.
We felt very lucky this morning as we came into Pavlof Harbor, dropped anchor and found a brown bear moseying along the opposite beach. Some of us weren’t sure if we should call it luck or trepidation when we sighted two more bears, a sow and her cub walking along our intended landing beach. The two wandered off into the forest, so we made our landing to explore the temperate rainforest and intertidal zone of Chichagof Island.
It is spring time in Southeast Alaska. The fiddle heads of lady ferns are unfurling, ready to bask in the radiance of the summer sun. In the shade of the forest, down around our ankles, we found diminutive yellow and purple violets in bloom. Salmonberry bushes are laden with delicate pink flowers, with a visit from a pollinator, the alchemy from fragile blossom to succulent fruit will soon be forthcoming. The brilliant yellow cloak of the skunk cabbage attracted our attention in an otherwise green forest palette. It is the scent, or perhaps more accurately described as an odor, that attracts a pollinator to this plant. The mantra of a skunk cabbage could be “If you stink, they will come.”
We carried our luck with us as we explored Chatham Strait in the afternoon. Barely peeking out of Pavlof Harbor we came upon a group of humpback whales. This wasn’t just luck, this was the jackpot. For the first time in the approximate six weeks the National Geographic Sea Bird has been in Southeast Alaska we found a group of cooperative bubble-net feeding humpback whales. We spent the entire afternoon with these ten whales, watching and listening as they repeatedly rushed to the surface with their mouths agape, gulping both water and herring. They used their baleen to sieve the herring and subsequently swallow, spitting out the water beforehand. With our hydrophone, we listened to an underwater humpback troubadour-wannabe. This was not singing. This was a boisterous underwater vocalization meant to frighten little herring into a tighter, more efficiently eaten mass.
On the periphery of the feeding group a humpback calf demonstrated the complete repertoire of aerodynamic possibilities a whale could contort its body into. We photographed and applauded as this youngster repeatedly breached and then crashed back into the water, tossed its peduncle about, slapped the waters surface with its humongous pectoral fins and performed two versions of lob tailing, upside down and right side up.
That wasn’t all. Black and white swimming bombs exploded at the water’s surface. Some call these Dall’s porpoises, we called them sheer fun. They zigzagged all around us and periodically rode the pressure wave created off our bow.
Just before dinner as we gathered in the lounge someone asked if this day had been “normal.” I think paranormal would be a more accurate description. The combination of non-rainy weather, wildlife sightings, species and numbers, whale behaviors and overall encounters will never be duplicated as we experienced them today. We feel privileged, and slightly exhausted, to have this as our first full day’s exploration of Southeast Alaska.
