Glacier Bay
Sunshine and sumdum is what we experienced when we came up onto the deck of the Sea Bird to find ourselves in Johns Hopkins Inlet, one of the most spectacular parts of Glacier Bay National Park. Sumdum is a Tlingit word, roughly translated as “white thunder.” This is the sound that a glacier makes when it “calves” 100-5000 ton blocks of ice that crash into the water, momentarily generating enough energy to turn on all of the lights in SE Alaska. As we watched the rising sun paint the high peaks around us with a rosy alpenglow, the sumdum rolled across the glacier front generating surge waves that rocked our ship and dumped a couple of dozing harbor seals off their comfortable iceberg perch for an unwelcome morning swim.
We saw no more calving on our visit to the Margerie and Grand Pacific glaciers, but we did observe the sometimes frantic antics of a colony of kittiwakes that has been established near the glaciers to take advantage nutrients stirred up by the glacial activity. It was here that we saw our first puffins of the trips, both the horned and tufted varieties.
Moving down the Bay to Gloomy Knob we spotted a couple of mountain goats taking their leisure on the rocks above. This was an excellent wildlife encounter; however, on the back side of the Knob, one of the highlights of the trip happened—a close-up view of a Brown Bear sow and cub. These animals were remarkably light in color—in fact they were blondes, the cub being almost platinum. As we watched, they grazed across a meadow, totally unaware of our presence on the sea nearby. The rambunctious cub dashed to and fro, eventually traipsing down to the beach where it found a bright orange Styrofoam tube. This was snatched up and carried into the trees, probably much to the consternation of mama bear who disappeared in pursuit of her unruly offspring.
We heard the inhabitants of South Marble Island before they could be clearly seen. First there was a low rumble from the 300 or so Stellar sea lions, soon joined by the high pitched screech of the sea birds. The sea lions are a disappointed male aggregate of unsuccessful breeders—mostly juveniles too young and too small to be part of the action plus a few grumpy old men that have given it all up. The seabirds included puffins, kittiwakes, glaucous-winged gulls, common murres, comorants, oystercatchers, and pigeon guillemots.
The last event of the day was certainly the most interesting. The distinctive pectoral fins of killer whales were seen cutting through the water just off South Marble. When we came closer we discovered that a Minke whale was in their midst. Were these mammal-eating transient whales looking for dinner? We followed them for more than an hour without getting a clear answer. They certainly seemed to be following the Minke and there were several close encounters, but there was no flat-out attack. The mother and calf pairs got the closest, so maybe it was a training session on hunting tactics for the juveniles.
Eliza Scidmore, one of the first women to visit Glacier Bay, described her trip in this brief phrase:
There was something, too, in the consciousness that so few had ever gazed upon the scene before us, and there were neither guides nor guide books to tell us which way to go, and what emotions to feel”
We departed the Bay in the evening, each with our own emotions, grateful for our experience and looking forward to more adventures on the seas ahead.
