Icy Strait & the Inian Islands
Yesterday’s Expedition Report tells of the beautiful, clear weather and outstanding wildlife sightings of the first day of our trip through Southeast Alaska. Our Naturalists all told how exceptional this was, and warned that we could not expect it to last. Well, what do they know?! The early-morning contingent gathered on the bow, steaming mugs of coffee in hand, to watch the morning mist lift from Icy Strait to reveal the Fairweather Range and Brady Glacier on mainland Alaska to the north, and the snow-capped peaks of Chichagof Island to the south. The view was stunning. The Inian Islands separate Icy Strait from Cross Sound and the Pacific Ocean. Here, water from the Pacific rushes in on each rising tide, and rushes out as the tide ebbs. Through this entrance fish must pass when they leave the open ocean and return to protected waters, rivers and streams to spawn. The area called for our closer examination and Zodiacs were the vehicles of choice. Our necks were on swivels as our attention was drawn to sea otters swimming on their backs busily grooming their fine fur but ever-vigilant of our approach; perhaps the passive genes were selected out of the sea otter population when they were intensely exploited by Russians and their Aleut hunters. All around us humpback whales blew columns of mist into the morning air as the huge animals rose to breath and then, with a show of their flukes, they returned to the busy work of feeding on Alaska's marine bounty. All summer long they feed to restore the layer of energy-rich blubber that that must carry them through the next winter in Hawaii. Unlike the wary otters, the whales ignored us, sometimes surfacing close to a Zodiac and allowing the excited occupants a close view. On a small islet at the mouth of Cross Sound we found a haul-out of Steller’s sea lions. Here young males bide their time for some years gorging on incoming salmon as they seek to grow large enough to compete for the right to breed. Here, also, huge old males who have been defeated on the breeding colony live out their post-reproductive lives. What tales they could tell the youngsters! But the young sea lions in the water around our Zodiacs seemed more interested in play then in the wisdom of their elders.
Our ship moved a short distance to George Island, where we had the chance to walk in the forest, explore the beach, and circumnavigate the island by Zodiac. Once again, close encounters with humpback whales were a highlight of the cruise. Ashore, some visited a World War II gun emplacement, a grim reminder of the time when we feared an invasion of North America through Alaska. Fortunately, the invasion that did occur petered out in the Aleutian Islands and the gun was never fired in anger. The beaches were rich in birds on their way to more northern breeding sites: bright yellow Wilson’s warblers and a flock of busy sanderlings exchanging their plain gray and white winter plumage for brighter colors more appropriate for breeding. A few bright flowers – cinquefoil, shooting star, and purple saxifrage – gave promise of more color yet to come. And then we returned to the National Geographic Sea Lion and Chris told us about barnacles.
Yesterday’s Expedition Report tells of the beautiful, clear weather and outstanding wildlife sightings of the first day of our trip through Southeast Alaska. Our Naturalists all told how exceptional this was, and warned that we could not expect it to last. Well, what do they know?! The early-morning contingent gathered on the bow, steaming mugs of coffee in hand, to watch the morning mist lift from Icy Strait to reveal the Fairweather Range and Brady Glacier on mainland Alaska to the north, and the snow-capped peaks of Chichagof Island to the south. The view was stunning. The Inian Islands separate Icy Strait from Cross Sound and the Pacific Ocean. Here, water from the Pacific rushes in on each rising tide, and rushes out as the tide ebbs. Through this entrance fish must pass when they leave the open ocean and return to protected waters, rivers and streams to spawn. The area called for our closer examination and Zodiacs were the vehicles of choice. Our necks were on swivels as our attention was drawn to sea otters swimming on their backs busily grooming their fine fur but ever-vigilant of our approach; perhaps the passive genes were selected out of the sea otter population when they were intensely exploited by Russians and their Aleut hunters. All around us humpback whales blew columns of mist into the morning air as the huge animals rose to breath and then, with a show of their flukes, they returned to the busy work of feeding on Alaska's marine bounty. All summer long they feed to restore the layer of energy-rich blubber that that must carry them through the next winter in Hawaii. Unlike the wary otters, the whales ignored us, sometimes surfacing close to a Zodiac and allowing the excited occupants a close view. On a small islet at the mouth of Cross Sound we found a haul-out of Steller’s sea lions. Here young males bide their time for some years gorging on incoming salmon as they seek to grow large enough to compete for the right to breed. Here, also, huge old males who have been defeated on the breeding colony live out their post-reproductive lives. What tales they could tell the youngsters! But the young sea lions in the water around our Zodiacs seemed more interested in play then in the wisdom of their elders.
Our ship moved a short distance to George Island, where we had the chance to walk in the forest, explore the beach, and circumnavigate the island by Zodiac. Once again, close encounters with humpback whales were a highlight of the cruise. Ashore, some visited a World War II gun emplacement, a grim reminder of the time when we feared an invasion of North America through Alaska. Fortunately, the invasion that did occur petered out in the Aleutian Islands and the gun was never fired in anger. The beaches were rich in birds on their way to more northern breeding sites: bright yellow Wilson’s warblers and a flock of busy sanderlings exchanging their plain gray and white winter plumage for brighter colors more appropriate for breeding. A few bright flowers – cinquefoil, shooting star, and purple saxifrage – gave promise of more color yet to come. And then we returned to the National Geographic Sea Lion and Chris told us about barnacles.
