Glacier Bay National Park

When John Muir first saw Glacier Bay in 1879 he wrote, “Light streamed through the luminous fringes of the clouds and fell on the green waters of the fiord, the glittering bergs, and the crystal bluffs of the vast glacier, the intensely white, far-spreading fields of ice, and the ineffable chaste and spiritual heights of the Fairweather Range, which were now hidden, now partly revealed, the whole making a picture of icy wildness unspeakably pure and sublime.”

Margerie Glacier graced us with her colors and beauty this morning as Bertha Franulovich, a Huna Tlingit and our cultural interpreter, welcomed us to the very waters where her great-grandfather was born and fished. “I feel so privileged to be here with you today. Together we are exploring the Sit’ Eeti Gheeyi, The Bay in Place of the Glacier.” Bertha shared with us how her people believe everything has a spirit and that nature teaches us the importance of balance. To her grandparents, a harbor seal meant food for their family, intestines for rope, pelts for shoes and coats, bones for tools, and fat. Fat slowly rendered takes the consistency of virgin olive oil, and preserves meat and berries. Blueberries were lightly dipped in seal oil, stored in a bentwood box and preserved for winter eating. Her work now is to share the voice of her ancestors and their respect for the land and sea with those who travel to this World Heritage Site. Glacier Bay is a place that has value, immeasurable, for the entire world.

Johns Hopkins Inlet, Tsalxhaan Niyaade wool eex’I Ye, translates “The Passage that broke through towards Mount Fairweather.” Ice from Johns Hopkins kept National Geographic Sea Bird more than two miles from the face. Hopkins is one glacier that is advancing. Glaciers are dynamic forces. These rivers of ice carved out the valleys and coves where wilderness now meets the sea. Our Glacier Bay National Park Ranger, Andrew Gertge, shared insights and studies that reflect the balance of wilderness and science that the Park Service is committed to. Marylou Blakeslee, a seasonal ranger, who has returned for 17 seasons, said she is drawn back year after year because Glacier Bay is “…protected possibility…” It is precisely this balance, of visitors, interpretation, protection, wildlife, and grandeur that creates the balance we are each seeking in our own lives.

Mountain goats, a brown bear sow and her cub picking berries, and a black bear fileting salmon in Geike Inlet pulled us out onto the bow to fill up our senses and see for ourselves the balance of nature. Misty rain made us listen differently and look more carefully. South Marble Islands hosted water birds and sea lions. Sea otters wrapped in kelp were visible through our binoculars. Porpoise wandered the green waters, gracefully catching our eyes for only a moment. As Emily Dickinson said, “Glacier Bay leaves no scar, only internal difference, where meanings are.”

Erasmo Estripeaut, our hotel manager onboard National Geographic Sea Bird feels deeply that “details are ingredients that make an expedition last a lifetime.” These details, deftly balanced, are what make it possible to be present in this sacred place we are so privileged to take in.

We seek and find a balance here in our very own National Park. We wrap up in fleece and jackets, step outside and breath fresh mountain air off a glacier. We listen to the calls of puffins and kittiwakes. We gaze up at a land that was carved by water and that we want to share with our grandchildren. Perhaps Margaret E. Murie said it most eloquently. “My prayer is that Alaska will not lose the heart nourishing friendliness of her youth – that her people will always care for one another, her towns remain friendly and not completely ruled by the dollar – and that her great wild places will remain great, and wild, and free, where wolf and caribou, wolverine and grizzly bear, and all the artic blossoms may live on in the delicate balance which supported them long before impetuous man appeared in the north.”