LeConte Icebergs and Petersburg
Our Zodiacs wound their way through chunks of ice and bergie bits stranded in the shallow water as the tide flowed out from the LeConte Glacier’s fiord. Most showed their flat white tops and deep blue roots after being abandoned by the receding tidal water that flowed past them. Ice draws our attention, especially when it’s blue, or when it towers above us, or if it represents some sculptural form. Floating bergs can be riveting, possibly with the scary thought of what we can’t see beneath the water that may erupt like some monster to carry us up and away as the berg rolls.
We were in a bay that bore the marks of past glaciers everywhere. The steep forested slopes had been carved by ice, and many of the bergs lined an end moraine that resulted from a once stationary glacier that transported and dumped rock debris at its terminus like a conveyer belt. Tree-covered portions of the moraine were across the fiord and beyond the channel where the outgoing tide carried more pieces of ice. Horns poked into the blue skyline above us. These pointy peaks were above the rounded glaciated hills and did not experience the abrasive force of ice and rocks.
Our afternoon was spent in Petersburg, a fishing town with an annual income of about $34 million just from seafood products. Practically all other businesses are tied to that income source. That fact dominates everything about this place from the sidewalks inlaid with brass halibut to the hardware store that sells line, cable, flashers and hootchies, to the pickups that are in vogue as they always have been, to the monument that honors those lost at sea. No one on the street carries white plastic bags full of T-shirts. The main season hasn’t started, so the docks are crowded with purse seiners for pinks, tenders to buy from the boats, long liners for halibut and black cod, trollers for kings and cohos, gill netters for a variety of salmon, and crabbers for Dungeness crab. It rains over 100 inches a year here, but today the mountainous backdrop of this town was stunning.
Quarks, kwachs and gongs but mostly coarse caws are some of the sounds from other Petersburg residents—the ravens. They act like they own the place. They seem to watch everything, walk with a determined gait, perch where they want, hold informal conferences and amuse anyone who watches. It is a rare soul who frowns while watching the antics of ravens.
Many activities were available including bicycling, walking around town, hiking to a muskeg, or looking at fishing boats. A muskeg is a fairy-tale place dominated by peat moss, where trees take on bonsai shapes and carnivorous plants abound. It was a clear warm day, so guests were buzzing about their float plane trip over the LeConte Glacier. This complex and deeply dissected landscape is truly apparent from the air. Much of the snow cover has not yet melted. Crevasses dominate much of the surface of glaciers that weave a torturous route down and into the iceberg-choked fiords.
Becky Knight is the one of the most popular guest speakers we have in Alaska, and we were lucky to have her visit for the evening recap. Her cheerful nature and fascinating stories really gave us an insight into what it’s like to be in a fishing family here. Soon we were devouring Dungeness crab as the National Geographic Sea Bird moved on to more adventures. After dinner we were treated to a spectacular sunset, partially seen in one of today’s photographs.
