George Island and Inian Island, Cross Sound, Southeast Alaska
One of the most interesting animals in these waters are nudibranchs, commonly known as sea slugs. Flaunting their toxicity with vivacious colors, many of these mollusks lead a pompously obvious existence in a world of cryptic coloration and meticulous camouflage. During our dive on the west side of George Island, we found three species of nudibranchs (Diaulula sandiegensis, Tochuina tetraquetra and Flabellina trilineata) within one square meter, with the less flamboyantly colored animals losing out to their vibrantly colored cousins, remaining forever unseen.
Attracted to the sound of our bubbles and lights from the camera, a school of black and dusky rockfish (Sebastes melanops and S. ciliatus) formed a living vortex of curious eyes. Often times the closest fish is the one staring at you from behind. Turn around and the fish will become flustered, maybe even embarrassed at being caught eyeing such an awkward creature. Spend enough time in a school of rockfish and individuals will stand out amongst the school of seemingly identical fish. Because it would be unfair to keep the fun all to ourselves, a high-definition video camera was used to capture video of this dive for the evening’s cocktail hour and recap. Although the thrill of exploring unknown waters teeming with colorful invertebrates and curious fish may translate well on video, being immersed in Southeast Alaska waters cannot be synthesized, it must be felt.
For the marine residents of the Inside Passage, Cross Sound is the area one must pass through to reach natal streams, feeding grounds or breeding locations. There are days when Cross Sound becomes a chaotic swirl of water, wind, birds, mammals, kelp and carnage.
After living for years in the productive surface waters of the Gulf of Alaska and Bering Sea, salmon bound for natal streams must pass through a gauntlet of supremely maneuverable and moderately intelligent hunters. Before ever experiencing their first, and maybe last, brown bear, salmon must first safely navigate the tight passage around Inian Pass, a favorite haul out for Northern (Steller) sea lions. Using their powerful fore flippers to fight an incoming tide of cold, fish-laden water the antagonists rely on sensitive vibrissae and keen eyesight to spot, track and capture their lustrous quarry. With such a repertoire of skills, it’s a wonder that any salmon make it through this gauntlet of pinnipeds. Heavier and far more swift than any brown bear, these ultimate sea lions made short work of their prize with a shake of the head and a few large gulps. The most diabolical salmonid divination belies the true horrors and rigors facing these fish; a knowing salmon would likely look upon such a set of hurdles with utter despondency. At least death-by-sea-lion is a nobler one than ending up as a main course with a squeeze of lemon. Maybe the real miracle is that enough salmon even make it for the sea lions. Or do they?
