LeConte Bay, Petersburg and Snow Pass

Although life in the rain is the norm in Southeast Alaska and enjoyable in its own sort of way, it is still nice to have a day without it….and this day was one of those days. The National Geographic Sea Bird dropped anchor just outside the bar at LeConte Bay at 0700 and the first group was away on their adventure among the ice before breakfast.

We spent the morning in Zodiacs cruising among the beautiful blue icebergs that break off the LeConte Glacier miles upstream and break into hundreds of stunning shapes, many appearing as if they were lit from the inside by the most intense and stunningly deep blue light imaginable. The diffused light from the partial overcast added depth and vividness to the iceberg colors. Most humans being pareidoliacs, we could not help ourselves from seeing every imaginable animal shape formed in the ice, from dinosaurs to seals to ballet dancers and swans (not easy to work that word into a written piece but I thought it was rather well done!). Since many of the icebergs were actually sitting on the bottom, they became destabilized with the tide changes and some of them rolled over or broke apart as we ooed and awed and watched them from a safe distance.

We were all onboard and fed by 1000 and headed back northward to Petersburg, a picturesque town of Norwegian ancestry that is primarily a working fishing community. Our Chief Mate, Lucy, very skillfully parallel-parked the ship in a tiny little spot on a floating dock near the town center and we had time to explore the town and/or wander the docks, filled with colorful fishing boats of all kinds and colorful fishermen as well.

By mid-afternoon we were on our way southward in the narrow, circuitous and beautiful Wrangell Narrows. Mid-way down the narrows we were in Christmas Tree Alley, a place where the red and green navigation markers and buoys are so numerous and confounding that they look like randomly decorated Christmas lights.

And then “My Oh My” (as the Seattle Mariners baseball announcer says when a huge play happens)!!!!

As we approached Snow Pass, we spotted cooperative-feeding humpback whales in the narrow section of the pass and spent the remaining hours of the day, into the moonlight, watching at least 20 magnificent whales in their beautifully choreographed feeding dance. At first there were four whales simultaneously coming to the surface and then four others joined them.

We put our hydrophone into the water and heard the otherworldly sounds that they make as they concentrate the fish into tight balls, blow a bubble net around them and then explode to the surface all at once, mouths open 90 degrees and fins and bodies emerging in every imaginable configuration. One time they even surfaced within feet of our fine ship to the great joy and amazement of us all.

Then the moon rose and the sun set in a full palate of color as we watched three separate groups of cooperative feeders crashing to the rosy-hued sea surface and also listened to the soft, sweet blows of whales all around us in the stillness of the evening. It just doesn’t get better than this day and a deep sense of connection and gratitude came over our little ship as we again headed south to tomorrows adventures.