We spent today surrounded by nature’s late summer largess. At this time of year, the whole hemisphere seems hurrying to prepare for winter, and this impression is most intense in the far north.
We began the day in the company of whales. Though fortune had delivered many whales to us already, we were all hoping to witness the most spectacular of Alaska’s whale behavior – bubble-net feeding of humpback whales. Most baleen whales, dull cowlike creatures, seem to lack both the intellectual rigor and the social skills to become particularly gregarious. Even the remarkable humpback is often solitary. But a few, perhaps the geniuses of the baleen-bearing tribe, gather to hunt fish cooperatively in intricate and well-coordinated maneuvers. This involves one whale blowing a rising cylinder of bubbles, through which ascends a pack of humpbacks. Whales manipulate their hapless prey not only with air, but also sound. Imagine the terror of the herring as they are surrounded by an inescapable ring of scintillating bubbles, then the horrifying screams of the approaching whales, the eerie flash of pale pectoral flippers, and at last the all-encompassing maw! We were thrilled to watch this spectacle of gluttony. With a hydrophone, we heard the rising screams of the whales, gulls sprang into the air in anticipation, and where, where were the bubbles? At last the telltale ring announced the whales just before their awesome arrival. Great gaping jaws bristling with baleen, stretched in a five-yard yawn. Throats bulged, as if those of giant submarine pelicans. Rubbery pleats distended, as if those of nightmarish, gargantuan, piscivorous accordions. And over all wheeled and screeched hundreds of hungry gulls.
Meanwhile, bears prowled the shoreline. After so many great sightings, we viewed them almost with nonchalance. We saw one scavenging salmon at the mouth of a stream, and another prospecting the intertidal and munching seaside grasses.
For the afternoon, we traveled to Baranoff Island. Anchoring at Hanus Bay, we hiked the trail leading to Lake Eva. The trail ran along a stream filled with pink salmon. We saw them in great grey schools in the stream’s depths, and battling the rapids in their iconic struggle against the elements. Dead salmon, exhausted by their migration or dispatched by predators, lay everywhere, and a rich reek often wafted from the shallows. Many creatures had gathered to feast on the salmon. Watchful eagles flew out from the trees; their feathers littered the grass under favored perches. And bear tracks were everywhere- some dauntingly enormous, others charmingly diminutive.
Some of Southeast Alaska’s most interesting mammals are pictured above. Though comparatively rare in this region, they can be locally common. Their colorful pelage seems to be social in function, and may relate to breeding behavior. Vocalizations, such as the “Oooos” and “Aaahs” made whenever whales appear, may be a primitive form of communication. They are opportunistically omnivorous, with a diet that suggests that they may be related to bears. Like bears, many appear now to be fattening for winter, though they do not hibernate. Instead, most disperse and migrate southward. Some may be seen as far away as Baja California and the Galápagos Islands. Though the rigors of migration can take its toll, lucky individuals may return to enjoy the richness of Southeast Alaska.
