Scenery Cove & Petersburg, Southeast Alaska
Even in periods of dryness, a rainforest is still a rainforest. We awoke this morning to be greeted by yet another promising day…calm water, sunny skies and pleasant temperatures. These are drying conditions, but just under the surface moss of this magnificent land, the sponge of the rainforest would remain very wet.
Sunrise found us moving toward the face of yet another massive glacier. However, over the past decade or so this one has retreated even more than those seen yesterday. It no longer reaches tidewater. Off its snout is a huge ridge of gravel, sand and rocks – the terminal moraine of this, the Baird Glacier. Looking not unlike a major construction zone, perhaps millions of tons of gray gravel have been deposited here in an elongated ridge, just above high tide line. Baird Glacier had advanced to this point some years ago, all the while moving like a conveyor belt to carry with it the scrapings from the high mountains over which it flowed. It has sculptured the land, and continues to do so. Like a giant rasp, the flowing river of ice continues to pluck rock, sand and glacial flour from the mountains, imbedding this hard material into its icy edges and reshaping its valley and the mountains themselves. Sharp peaks have been eliminated, leaving u-shaped valleys. Will Baird Glacier continue to retreat? Probably into the near future. But it is just as likely to advance to the water’s edge again some time. Planet Earth is ever-changing.
We slipped quietly into a narrow inlet, appropriately named Scenery Cove. Sea birds were here, many in the middle of a long northward migration. Their tiny wakes shimmered on the glassy water. Marbled murrelets, common loons, red-throated loons, Barrow’s goldeneyes and common mergansers (goosanders to those visiting from Europe) challenged our birding skills. Delicate Arctic terns lilted and screeched over the water, plunging occasionally to grab a small fish that had been driven to the surface by diving murrelets. This was truly a pleasant awakening.
Our first whale of the expedition generated mixed emotions. Few things can be more exciting to see and hear than a monstrous mammal as it arises out of the depths. But this individual, a medium sized humpback whale, showed the terribly unfortunate result of the conflict between nature and man’s commercial activities at sea. As the animal fluked up to dive, it was immediately apparent that something had completely severed most of its right fluke. A ship’s propeller? A twisting rope or fishing line? Although appearing otherwise strong and healthy, it is destined to struggle for survival with much of its propulsion system missing. Might it be able to feed normally and put on the thick layer of blubber necessary for it to migrate to Hawaii and back beginning next September? Or might it have to remain in the colder waters of Alaska for the rest of its life, however long that may be?
It was time to relax in Petersburg. Walking through the quiet village, shopping, cycling, a walk in a true Alaska sphagnum bog, or a casual stroll to learn about the very rich Alaskan fishery; all were options for the afternoon. This was followed by a fascinating talk by a local mother and fisherman’s wife. She has spent her life raising a family that earns a living from the bountiful sea.
A special treat was an evening presentation by Dr. Fred Sharpe, who has studied the humpback whales in Southeast Alaska for the past 22 years. His knowledge of this enigmatic species is exceptional. We were the beneficiaries.
Even in periods of dryness, a rainforest is still a rainforest. We awoke this morning to be greeted by yet another promising day…calm water, sunny skies and pleasant temperatures. These are drying conditions, but just under the surface moss of this magnificent land, the sponge of the rainforest would remain very wet.
Sunrise found us moving toward the face of yet another massive glacier. However, over the past decade or so this one has retreated even more than those seen yesterday. It no longer reaches tidewater. Off its snout is a huge ridge of gravel, sand and rocks – the terminal moraine of this, the Baird Glacier. Looking not unlike a major construction zone, perhaps millions of tons of gray gravel have been deposited here in an elongated ridge, just above high tide line. Baird Glacier had advanced to this point some years ago, all the while moving like a conveyor belt to carry with it the scrapings from the high mountains over which it flowed. It has sculptured the land, and continues to do so. Like a giant rasp, the flowing river of ice continues to pluck rock, sand and glacial flour from the mountains, imbedding this hard material into its icy edges and reshaping its valley and the mountains themselves. Sharp peaks have been eliminated, leaving u-shaped valleys. Will Baird Glacier continue to retreat? Probably into the near future. But it is just as likely to advance to the water’s edge again some time. Planet Earth is ever-changing.
We slipped quietly into a narrow inlet, appropriately named Scenery Cove. Sea birds were here, many in the middle of a long northward migration. Their tiny wakes shimmered on the glassy water. Marbled murrelets, common loons, red-throated loons, Barrow’s goldeneyes and common mergansers (goosanders to those visiting from Europe) challenged our birding skills. Delicate Arctic terns lilted and screeched over the water, plunging occasionally to grab a small fish that had been driven to the surface by diving murrelets. This was truly a pleasant awakening.
Our first whale of the expedition generated mixed emotions. Few things can be more exciting to see and hear than a monstrous mammal as it arises out of the depths. But this individual, a medium sized humpback whale, showed the terribly unfortunate result of the conflict between nature and man’s commercial activities at sea. As the animal fluked up to dive, it was immediately apparent that something had completely severed most of its right fluke. A ship’s propeller? A twisting rope or fishing line? Although appearing otherwise strong and healthy, it is destined to struggle for survival with much of its propulsion system missing. Might it be able to feed normally and put on the thick layer of blubber necessary for it to migrate to Hawaii and back beginning next September? Or might it have to remain in the colder waters of Alaska for the rest of its life, however long that may be?
It was time to relax in Petersburg. Walking through the quiet village, shopping, cycling, a walk in a true Alaska sphagnum bog, or a casual stroll to learn about the very rich Alaskan fishery; all were options for the afternoon. This was followed by a fascinating talk by a local mother and fisherman’s wife. She has spent her life raising a family that earns a living from the bountiful sea.
A special treat was an evening presentation by Dr. Fred Sharpe, who has studied the humpback whales in Southeast Alaska for the past 22 years. His knowledge of this enigmatic species is exceptional. We were the beneficiaries.
