A Pigeon Guillemot on George Island
Today we explored Icy Strait and Cross Sound. With each tide, much of the northern Inside Passage fills and empties through this channel, and strong currents stir the sea into a rich biological broth. Creatures of every size gather to feast here.
We woke in Idaho Inlet. This is a favorite hang-out for sea otters. Following reintroduction, otters have prospered here. Though well-known for dining on urchins and crabs, the otters of Idaho prefer clams. It’s odd and impressive to think of these creatures diving 150 feet and then digging for dinner. Though often engagingly industrious, the otters we saw were, like us, just waking up, and seemed content to ponder their world in quietude.
We motored on to George Island. This tiny speck faces the Gulf of Alaska, and receives the brunt of the fury of winter storms. As a result, its seaside topography is towering and spectacular. Kayakers paddled from a protected cove to the exposed front of the island. Here they rode the open ocean’s gentle swell and admired a fine arch cut in the island’s side when the sea was in a less friendly mood.
Many saw the island by Zodiac. Seabirds of several sorts nest in the island’s craggy sides. We saw the bright red feet and heard the shrill whistles of guillemots. Cormorants croaked and wheeled through the air clumsily, or paddled the waves and dove with competent grace. The ocean around George Island was packed with birds. We also found whales here, perhaps enjoying the same food as the birds, though engulfing it on a completely different scale.
George Island seems isolated and peaceful, but once it bustled with activity. During World War II, a large gun was installed to guard this part of Alaska from potential Japanese invasion. Hikers saw the gun, tucked incongruously amongst the spruces, as well as the remains of many roads and buildings.
During lunch, we motored a short distance to the tiny town of Elfin Cove. Here the Captain maneuvered us up the town dock, and we stepped ashore without using boots! We walked the town’s “main street” – a cove side boardwalk – and considered life in this extraordinary isolated town.
Later in the afternoon, we anchored in a cove among the Inian Islands and dropped Zodiacs. The northwesternmost of the Inians is a favorite haul-out for Steller sea lions. We saw scores of these imposing beasts sprawling on the rocks. Many of the ‘lions here are no longer breeding, being past their prime, but one couldn’t tell by the look of them. They eyed us with stately reserve, regal despite their huge bulk. These are the originals, from which sea “lions” get their name. Golden in color and thick-necked as if maned, these creatures are also lionlike in their deep and throaty roars. Smaller sea lions, younger males, were as noisy as their elders, though their bleating was more pitiful than daunting. The sea lions were somewhat shy ashore, but once in the water they were curious and even daring. They approached our boats in gangs, soared effortlessly beneath our boats, or sprang suddenly out of the water in acrobatic leaps. One even tried an experimental nibble on the back of a Zodiac – don’t tell the boatswain!
Icy Strait and Cross Sound blaze with scenery and brim with life. Visiting here, we were part of the extraordinary richness of Southeast Alaska.
Today we explored Icy Strait and Cross Sound. With each tide, much of the northern Inside Passage fills and empties through this channel, and strong currents stir the sea into a rich biological broth. Creatures of every size gather to feast here.
We woke in Idaho Inlet. This is a favorite hang-out for sea otters. Following reintroduction, otters have prospered here. Though well-known for dining on urchins and crabs, the otters of Idaho prefer clams. It’s odd and impressive to think of these creatures diving 150 feet and then digging for dinner. Though often engagingly industrious, the otters we saw were, like us, just waking up, and seemed content to ponder their world in quietude.
We motored on to George Island. This tiny speck faces the Gulf of Alaska, and receives the brunt of the fury of winter storms. As a result, its seaside topography is towering and spectacular. Kayakers paddled from a protected cove to the exposed front of the island. Here they rode the open ocean’s gentle swell and admired a fine arch cut in the island’s side when the sea was in a less friendly mood.
Many saw the island by Zodiac. Seabirds of several sorts nest in the island’s craggy sides. We saw the bright red feet and heard the shrill whistles of guillemots. Cormorants croaked and wheeled through the air clumsily, or paddled the waves and dove with competent grace. The ocean around George Island was packed with birds. We also found whales here, perhaps enjoying the same food as the birds, though engulfing it on a completely different scale.
George Island seems isolated and peaceful, but once it bustled with activity. During World War II, a large gun was installed to guard this part of Alaska from potential Japanese invasion. Hikers saw the gun, tucked incongruously amongst the spruces, as well as the remains of many roads and buildings.
During lunch, we motored a short distance to the tiny town of Elfin Cove. Here the Captain maneuvered us up the town dock, and we stepped ashore without using boots! We walked the town’s “main street” – a cove side boardwalk – and considered life in this extraordinary isolated town.
Later in the afternoon, we anchored in a cove among the Inian Islands and dropped Zodiacs. The northwesternmost of the Inians is a favorite haul-out for Steller sea lions. We saw scores of these imposing beasts sprawling on the rocks. Many of the ‘lions here are no longer breeding, being past their prime, but one couldn’t tell by the look of them. They eyed us with stately reserve, regal despite their huge bulk. These are the originals, from which sea “lions” get their name. Golden in color and thick-necked as if maned, these creatures are also lionlike in their deep and throaty roars. Smaller sea lions, younger males, were as noisy as their elders, though their bleating was more pitiful than daunting. The sea lions were somewhat shy ashore, but once in the water they were curious and even daring. They approached our boats in gangs, soared effortlessly beneath our boats, or sprang suddenly out of the water in acrobatic leaps. One even tried an experimental nibble on the back of a Zodiac – don’t tell the boatswain!
Icy Strait and Cross Sound blaze with scenery and brim with life. Visiting here, we were part of the extraordinary richness of Southeast Alaska.
