Glacier Bay
One of the requirements of Glacier Bay National Park is to have a Ranger as an observer on board every cruise ship. If you’re smart and the Ranger agrees, the pickup is done the night before your designated day in the park. That way, you can cross the boundary at midnight and cruise all night for an early morning wakeup at the head of the Bay. Our morning began in Johns Hopkins Inlet. As the sun cast its rosy rising glow on the surrounding peaks, a full moon was just setting behind the Fairweather Range. The overall result was a scenario of breathtaking beauty. It was hard to think of anything more impressive than this major photo opportunity landscape. However, the Johns Hopkins Glacier gave us a clue as we arrived at the glacier front by giving up to gravity a block of ice about the size of your average school bus. It hit the water with a tremendous crack and roar, generating a splash at least 200 feet high and a surge wave that definitely rocked our world on the Sea Bird a quarter mile away.
We experienced a similar calving experience on the Margerie Glacier; and then began our trek back to Bartlett Cove at the mouth of the Bay. Our first wildlife encounter along the way was at Gloomy Knob where we got a close-up view of five mountain goats climbing and grazing as goats do—but some were flat on the ground taking a nap, which we didn’t expect.
Our next locality was Tidal Inlet, which displays a scar on a near-vertical cliff that is the beginning stage of a potentially huge landslide that could involve 10 million tons of rock and generate a wave 700 feet high when the rock hits the water. Our geologist was especially nervous as we cruised into the fjord below the slide zone.
The avian enthusiasts were gratified at Lone Island, Geike Inlet and South Marble Island, where the birds observed included surf scoters, oystercatchers, kittiwakes, marbled murrelets, tufted puffins, pelagic commorants, mergansers, goldeneyes, pigeon guillemots and others too numerous to mention. Perhaps the most interesting sight was a parent eagle shunning a fledgling, encouraging the juvenile to just get on the task of independent flying and feeding. South Marble was also the gathering place of a fraternity of Stellar sea lions that were unsuccessful breeders this season. You could sense their frustration as they constantly battled for position on the rocks and occasionally sunk their teeth into a combative neighbor.
Our final destination was Bartlett Cove where we had three hiking opportunities. One was around some bog lakes in the forest and another was to some stumps on the beach that were the remnants of a forest covered by ice in the last major advance of the glaciers in Glacier Bay. The third was just supposed to be an aerobic burn up the road to Gustavus, but those who persisted to the end were rewarded with a view of a moose and two calves on the roadway. Thus ended our day in Glacier Bay, certainly one to be remembered.
One of the requirements of Glacier Bay National Park is to have a Ranger as an observer on board every cruise ship. If you’re smart and the Ranger agrees, the pickup is done the night before your designated day in the park. That way, you can cross the boundary at midnight and cruise all night for an early morning wakeup at the head of the Bay. Our morning began in Johns Hopkins Inlet. As the sun cast its rosy rising glow on the surrounding peaks, a full moon was just setting behind the Fairweather Range. The overall result was a scenario of breathtaking beauty. It was hard to think of anything more impressive than this major photo opportunity landscape. However, the Johns Hopkins Glacier gave us a clue as we arrived at the glacier front by giving up to gravity a block of ice about the size of your average school bus. It hit the water with a tremendous crack and roar, generating a splash at least 200 feet high and a surge wave that definitely rocked our world on the Sea Bird a quarter mile away.
We experienced a similar calving experience on the Margerie Glacier; and then began our trek back to Bartlett Cove at the mouth of the Bay. Our first wildlife encounter along the way was at Gloomy Knob where we got a close-up view of five mountain goats climbing and grazing as goats do—but some were flat on the ground taking a nap, which we didn’t expect.
Our next locality was Tidal Inlet, which displays a scar on a near-vertical cliff that is the beginning stage of a potentially huge landslide that could involve 10 million tons of rock and generate a wave 700 feet high when the rock hits the water. Our geologist was especially nervous as we cruised into the fjord below the slide zone.
The avian enthusiasts were gratified at Lone Island, Geike Inlet and South Marble Island, where the birds observed included surf scoters, oystercatchers, kittiwakes, marbled murrelets, tufted puffins, pelagic commorants, mergansers, goldeneyes, pigeon guillemots and others too numerous to mention. Perhaps the most interesting sight was a parent eagle shunning a fledgling, encouraging the juvenile to just get on the task of independent flying and feeding. South Marble was also the gathering place of a fraternity of Stellar sea lions that were unsuccessful breeders this season. You could sense their frustration as they constantly battled for position on the rocks and occasionally sunk their teeth into a combative neighbor.
Our final destination was Bartlett Cove where we had three hiking opportunities. One was around some bog lakes in the forest and another was to some stumps on the beach that were the remnants of a forest covered by ice in the last major advance of the glaciers in Glacier Bay. The third was just supposed to be an aerobic burn up the road to Gustavus, but those who persisted to the end were rewarded with a view of a moose and two calves on the roadway. Thus ended our day in Glacier Bay, certainly one to be remembered.
