Glacier Bay National Park
As we peered out through gray overcast skies, two bullet-like dots grew larger. Their white faces, golden tufts, and whirring wings shot past us and disappeared in seconds. It’s not the mission they were on that’s important, but where they were coming from. Glacier Bay has the potential to produce everything from spectacular scenery to an abundance of marine life including tiny fish that feed the puffins that shot by the ship.
Marble Island is an ideal rocky outcropping for use by puffins, murres, cormorants, kittiwakes and other gulls. Most seabirds nest colonially. There are many advantages, including the stimulation of breeding activity, ease in finding mates, safety in numbers, potential for mobbing predators, transfer of information of important feeding areas and a favorable location. Northern sea lions also find protection here from land-based predators. They were draped in piles upon the more rounded rocks. Their low growling sounds were always in the background of noisy birds as we searched for new sightings.
During the midmorning we passed Gloomy Knob, a gray massive rock with cliffs that drop abruptly into the sea. These dolomite ledges offer places for mountain goats to find safety. Although they suffer mortality from falling, inaccessibility is a better alternative than predation from bears and wolves. We found at least ten goats including a nanny and kid.
Russell Cut is a channel noted for frequent wildlife sightings. It gave us first one, then two, then three bears. They all foraged together, perhaps on wild strawberries. Then one by one, they strolled into the intertidal zone to turn over rocks and selectively eat what lay below. They methodically scratched barnacles into a soup then lapped it up. Brown bears are not social creatures. They are normally brought together only if drawn to a good food source, if courting or mating, when a sow has cubs, or when there are recently weaned siblings like these. This trio is well known in the park and apparently has a skilled mom that has raised all of them to about the same size and health. Although they looked at us a few times, they never seemed to be concerned by our presence. Our fascination with bears seems boundless. It is a wealthy society that has made room for bears like these three in the absence of Goldilocks.
We wound our way along the Johns Hopkins Inlet to the glacier that bears the same name. It’s possible to look up a field of icy pinnacles called seracs and follow the glacier high into the peaks above. We were there barely a few minutes before ice came tumbling into the sea. It was so exciting we could hardly bear it. Many more pinnacles perched precariously, as if the glacier was baring its fangs. Cruising out of the inlet we couldn’t avoid seeing how the surrounding rocks had been scraped bare. Although the scenery was stunning, it was difficult to forget the bears.
We hiked a short trail in Bartlett Cove, enjoyed the forest and investigated the small museum at the lodge before drawing away from Glacier Bay.
As we peered out through gray overcast skies, two bullet-like dots grew larger. Their white faces, golden tufts, and whirring wings shot past us and disappeared in seconds. It’s not the mission they were on that’s important, but where they were coming from. Glacier Bay has the potential to produce everything from spectacular scenery to an abundance of marine life including tiny fish that feed the puffins that shot by the ship.
Marble Island is an ideal rocky outcropping for use by puffins, murres, cormorants, kittiwakes and other gulls. Most seabirds nest colonially. There are many advantages, including the stimulation of breeding activity, ease in finding mates, safety in numbers, potential for mobbing predators, transfer of information of important feeding areas and a favorable location. Northern sea lions also find protection here from land-based predators. They were draped in piles upon the more rounded rocks. Their low growling sounds were always in the background of noisy birds as we searched for new sightings.
During the midmorning we passed Gloomy Knob, a gray massive rock with cliffs that drop abruptly into the sea. These dolomite ledges offer places for mountain goats to find safety. Although they suffer mortality from falling, inaccessibility is a better alternative than predation from bears and wolves. We found at least ten goats including a nanny and kid.
Russell Cut is a channel noted for frequent wildlife sightings. It gave us first one, then two, then three bears. They all foraged together, perhaps on wild strawberries. Then one by one, they strolled into the intertidal zone to turn over rocks and selectively eat what lay below. They methodically scratched barnacles into a soup then lapped it up. Brown bears are not social creatures. They are normally brought together only if drawn to a good food source, if courting or mating, when a sow has cubs, or when there are recently weaned siblings like these. This trio is well known in the park and apparently has a skilled mom that has raised all of them to about the same size and health. Although they looked at us a few times, they never seemed to be concerned by our presence. Our fascination with bears seems boundless. It is a wealthy society that has made room for bears like these three in the absence of Goldilocks.
We wound our way along the Johns Hopkins Inlet to the glacier that bears the same name. It’s possible to look up a field of icy pinnacles called seracs and follow the glacier high into the peaks above. We were there barely a few minutes before ice came tumbling into the sea. It was so exciting we could hardly bear it. Many more pinnacles perched precariously, as if the glacier was baring its fangs. Cruising out of the inlet we couldn’t avoid seeing how the surrounding rocks had been scraped bare. Although the scenery was stunning, it was difficult to forget the bears.
We hiked a short trail in Bartlett Cove, enjoyed the forest and investigated the small museum at the lodge before drawing away from Glacier Bay.
