George Island, Elfin Cove & the Inian Islands
An entirely different day awaited us today as we woke up on approach to George Island. We had entered Icy Straits during the early hours of the morning, yet did not encounter any of the ice bergs that Vancouver did in 1794. The sea was calm, the clouds low, yet high enough to see the Brady Glacier in the distance to the north.
George Island is a relatively small island just a few hundred meters from the much larger island of Chichagof Island. Mossy ground is slowly covering the remains of the World War II installations. Some of us hiked to one of the higher points on the island overlooking Cross sound and the Pacific Ocean, where a six-inch gun emplacement still peeked through the branches of overgrown Sitka spruce and hemlock trees.
Others kayaked and rode on Zodiacs over the kelp forests of the sea around the shoreline. The quiet was muffled by the light southeast Alaska liquid sunshine. We were prepared, though. We follow the Alaskan adage of “there is no such thing as bad weather, just inappropriate dress.” Pigeon guillemots and pelagic cormorants flew by, wingbeats noisy compared to other sounds nearby.
A visitor joined us for lunch, introducing her home of Elfin Cove to us in preparation for our visit. Mary Jo Lord looks after the museum on this boardwalk community where the history of these isolated and private people resides.
The final expedition of the day took us in Zodiacs to the Inian Islands where Steller sea lions provided us with a sensory extravaganza. By sight, these powerful marine mammals were impressive as they sparred with one another, climbed the almost vertical cliffs of their haul-out and leaped out of the water in graceful acrobatic arcs. By sound, they growled and roared as no-other creature in Southeast Alaska (but never “barked”). By smell we easily deduced their main prey item of fish, downwind of the rock on which they live.
Our grand finale this evening was humpback whales off Pt. Adolphus. The Captain of the Sea Bird sashays the vessel in the dusk of evening, so all in the dining room can see what we are missing outside. We are drawn out by the beauty of the moment.
An entirely different day awaited us today as we woke up on approach to George Island. We had entered Icy Straits during the early hours of the morning, yet did not encounter any of the ice bergs that Vancouver did in 1794. The sea was calm, the clouds low, yet high enough to see the Brady Glacier in the distance to the north.
George Island is a relatively small island just a few hundred meters from the much larger island of Chichagof Island. Mossy ground is slowly covering the remains of the World War II installations. Some of us hiked to one of the higher points on the island overlooking Cross sound and the Pacific Ocean, where a six-inch gun emplacement still peeked through the branches of overgrown Sitka spruce and hemlock trees.
Others kayaked and rode on Zodiacs over the kelp forests of the sea around the shoreline. The quiet was muffled by the light southeast Alaska liquid sunshine. We were prepared, though. We follow the Alaskan adage of “there is no such thing as bad weather, just inappropriate dress.” Pigeon guillemots and pelagic cormorants flew by, wingbeats noisy compared to other sounds nearby.
A visitor joined us for lunch, introducing her home of Elfin Cove to us in preparation for our visit. Mary Jo Lord looks after the museum on this boardwalk community where the history of these isolated and private people resides.
The final expedition of the day took us in Zodiacs to the Inian Islands where Steller sea lions provided us with a sensory extravaganza. By sight, these powerful marine mammals were impressive as they sparred with one another, climbed the almost vertical cliffs of their haul-out and leaped out of the water in graceful acrobatic arcs. By sound, they growled and roared as no-other creature in Southeast Alaska (but never “barked”). By smell we easily deduced their main prey item of fish, downwind of the rock on which they live.
Our grand finale this evening was humpback whales off Pt. Adolphus. The Captain of the Sea Bird sashays the vessel in the dusk of evening, so all in the dining room can see what we are missing outside. We are drawn out by the beauty of the moment.
