Inian Islands and Fox Creek
Today we explored the north entrance to the Inside Passage called Cross Sound. This constriction point has become a favorite haul-out for northern sea lions. In Southeast Alaska, large tidal ranges result in strong currents to the point of creating standing waves in some places, which northern sea lions use to their advantage.
Using the National Geographic Sea Bird’s fleet of Zodiacs, we deftly maneuvered through the small islets and kelp to watch these impressive pinnipeds in their element. Their effortless swimming belies the torrent of water rushing between the islands, carrying with it nutrients, oxygen and food. Bringing their piscine loot to the surface for consumption, the sea lions used their flexible, muscular necks and strong jaws to shake each fish into manageable pieces to swallow whole.
A ratfish, an odd cartilaginous fish often found at the darkest depths, was seen in the talons of a bald eagle. How could a fish that lives so deep find itself in the grasp of a flying bird confined to a gaseous medium? Could a sea lion have brought the ratfish to the surface as a prey item only to lose it? Or did the ratfish get caught in the rush of upwelling water and become disoriented by a sudden change in water pressure and blinding light? No one will ever know.
Utilizing the best technology available, our Hotel Manager, Chief Mate and I donned dry suits and scuba gear to explore Cross Sound from an angle seen by very few humans. Not for lack of trying, we still must breathe air which we carry in a metal container on our back like a giant, life-giving lunchbox for our lungs. The chilly (or cold, depending on your proclivities) water being propelled by both sun and moon runs through the delicate fronds of curtain kelp (Alaria sp.) and bull kelp (Nereocystis sp.) like wind through the canopy of a forest. Smooth kicks and deliberate movements aid a diver when soaring through a kelp forest. Thinking back to our sea lion encounter, maybe our underwater movements should never be considered “smooth.” No matter how hard we try, we will never compete with the marine adapted mammals.
Thinking back to this morning, we witnessed a show of grace and power unlike any other. What may first appear as waves breaking on distant rocks was actually the result of tens of thousands of pounds of whale flesh falling from the sky. The self-propelled whale rocket, also known as a humpback, repeatedly launched its body into the sky only to fall back to sea in a shower of foam and spray.
It’s likely that this whale first entered the Inside Passage via Cross Sound. Could this be a show of elation after completing a marathon voyage from Hawaii without the use of compass or GPS? Could this be an exclamation “I’ve made it!”? By breaching has this whale just announced “I’m here, I’m starving, let’s eat”? We can take a camera into only a tiny fraction of the sea’s depths and we shine lights into holes while using life support systems like we’ve entered another planet. But why does a whale breach? I don’t know, but I’m glad they do.
