Glacier Bay National Park
It is said by some that one can judge how an entire day will unfold based solely off its sunrise. While clearly there are exceptions to this theory, today was not one of them. As a golden dawn broke upon our entrance to Glacier Bay, rays of light raced to warmly embrace the National Geographic Sea Lion over snowcapped mountains, eliminating any semblance of doubt that this day would be anything short of spectacular. Visibility was at an all-time high for the trip and it would have been quite the challenge to face a direction that did not include a peak towering in the distance.
Our meteorological good fortune was matched by all manner of wildlife, as our trusty vessel powered into the deservedly world-renowned Glacier Bay. This pristine National Park and Preserve, (created by the 1980 Alaska National Interest Lands Conservation Act signed by President Jimmy Carter), has maintained the distinct indefinable feeling of wilderness. The only time littering is used in common conversation to describe the multitude of bulky hauled out Steller sea lions that we pass in areas on South Marble Island. The deep brays and bellows of these behemoth marine mammals are almost drowned out by calls from the teeming masses of black legged kittiwakes and pigeon guillemots. Horned puffins, a rare but delightful sighting, are spotted by keen eyes on deck as we press further into the bay.
As promised, mountain goats are seen on the glacially carved sheer cliffs, several with undeniably adorable kids in tow. Their thick white wool is a stark contrast to the grey granite precipices of Gloomy Knob, which they adroitly navigate on a daily basis. A close view of a bear still invokes the same sense of awe as before, its thick fur an almost bronze sheen. Looking all around at the clean cuts of the rock faces we pass, feeds the anticipation for the glacier that assuredly lies ahead. Approaching glaciers that end in salt water, called tidewater glaciers, by ship is a truly moving experience, slaloming around large bergs that form a serene moving maze to maneuver through. Smaller chunks of ice, called growlers or bergy bits, float out towards more open waters, bobbing clues of what lies ahead just around the next turn. At last we are rewarded by the white masked cerulean-blue wall of Margerie Glacier, marbled with earth brown from the inland swathe it has sliced over hundreds of years to get to this very point. Deep fissures can be seen cracking the face of this slowly moving frozen barrier. Massive blocks, hang precipitously, simply awaiting their time to fall and bring to an end an epic journey, the passage of which, like this expedition, will remain etched in stone and memory.
