Pond Island and Whale Watching
For most of us the day started when the Sea Lion slowed down in a small inlet facing the spectacular Kasnyku Falls. As we came onto deck, we faced a swath of cascading white water crashing down a near-vertical rocky cliff in the middle of a large forested hill. It must have been fed by a river, but whatever water body led to the falls remained out of view, creating the magical impression of a waterfall starting de novo near the top of the hill. In contrast to the falls, the small bay was a jewel of tranquility in the early morning light, with a small flock of harlequin ducks preening themselves on a little rocky island, a few eagles resting quietly in the top branches of shoreline trees, and a pair of marbled murrelets diving for their breakfast. Slowly, the Sea Lion approached the foot of the falls, until they totally dominated our environment. Being able to stand on deck, seeing the waterfall only yards in front of us, feeling the moisture-laden downdraft in our faces, and hearing the roar of the water deafening all other sounds was a truly awesome experience.
Shortly after breakfast the Sea Lion dropped anchor off Pond Island, just inside Kelp Bay, and our morning excursions got under way. Soon the brightly colored rafts of kayaks added a vibrant touch of cheer to the bay, and the Zodiacs were shuttling guests wearing orange life vests, from the Sea Lion to the beach. A partly cloudy day developed into one of the prettiest, sunny days ever. Under the pale blue cloudless sky we threw ourselves with gusto onto the morning's activities. I took a group of hikers on an exploratory walk into the interior of the island, where we found ourselves in a fine old-growth forest, with some absolutely magnificent Sitka spruce trees, lots of hemlock, including some giant ones, and a number of red cedars which had been partially stripped of their bark many years ago by the native people of the region. Standing still, and listening carefully, we heard the sweet, melodious song of a golden-crowned kinglet emanating from the dense foliage of a nearby hemlock, and more distantly the plaintive whistle of a hermit thrush. Otherwise, the forest spoke to us in silence. We stopped by a shallow pool, in which the trees of the opposite side were perfectly reflected. At first enchanted by the magical beauty of the moment, we soon started to notice the details of our immediate environment. Small crustaceans of a type I had not expected in a forest pond were moving around just under the surface, which alerted us to an anomaly. This was solved by tasting the water, which turned out to be quite brackish.
Whereas the flora of the forest floor had few flowering plants, a meadow we entered had some wonderful flowers scattered among the grasses. We immediately focused on the small bunches of bright red flowers of small-flowered paintbrush, which is a partially parasitic plant, which attaches its roots to the roots of other plants, robbing them of sap. But we soon discovered the more abundant miniature white starflower, which is unique in the world in having a seven point symmetrical flower. Other favorites were the yellow, buttercup-like flowers of the silverweed, and the incomparable chocolate lillies.
One of the other groups spent a fair amount of time exploring the intertidal zone, where they found an abundance of different forms of invertebrate life. One of the most exciting finds was a large olive green isopod , which is a crustacean in the same order as our garden pillbugs or sowbugs. This intriguing animal goes by several common names such as rockweed isopod or kelp roach. It lives and feeds on seaweeds that have the same olive green color, and are an important food source for fish.
From what I hear, it is obvious to me that the kayakers had an equally fascinating time. For some, it was their first time ever paddling one of these mini-watercraft. To me, kayaking is the closest one can come to walking on water.
The afternoon was spent sailing towards tomorrow's destination, but with a number of spectacular detours into hidden coves and inlets, or for the purpose of cheering as Dall's porpoises rode the bow of the Sea Lion, or humpback whales provided us with a breaching show. In Red Bluff Bay we spotted three brown bears, one ambling around high up on a mountain, the other two grazing in the large green pasture at the head of the bay.
Thus ended our first day of this trip. The sun set among some streaky pink clouds behind the mountains of Baranof Island.
For most of us the day started when the Sea Lion slowed down in a small inlet facing the spectacular Kasnyku Falls. As we came onto deck, we faced a swath of cascading white water crashing down a near-vertical rocky cliff in the middle of a large forested hill. It must have been fed by a river, but whatever water body led to the falls remained out of view, creating the magical impression of a waterfall starting de novo near the top of the hill. In contrast to the falls, the small bay was a jewel of tranquility in the early morning light, with a small flock of harlequin ducks preening themselves on a little rocky island, a few eagles resting quietly in the top branches of shoreline trees, and a pair of marbled murrelets diving for their breakfast. Slowly, the Sea Lion approached the foot of the falls, until they totally dominated our environment. Being able to stand on deck, seeing the waterfall only yards in front of us, feeling the moisture-laden downdraft in our faces, and hearing the roar of the water deafening all other sounds was a truly awesome experience.
Shortly after breakfast the Sea Lion dropped anchor off Pond Island, just inside Kelp Bay, and our morning excursions got under way. Soon the brightly colored rafts of kayaks added a vibrant touch of cheer to the bay, and the Zodiacs were shuttling guests wearing orange life vests, from the Sea Lion to the beach. A partly cloudy day developed into one of the prettiest, sunny days ever. Under the pale blue cloudless sky we threw ourselves with gusto onto the morning's activities. I took a group of hikers on an exploratory walk into the interior of the island, where we found ourselves in a fine old-growth forest, with some absolutely magnificent Sitka spruce trees, lots of hemlock, including some giant ones, and a number of red cedars which had been partially stripped of their bark many years ago by the native people of the region. Standing still, and listening carefully, we heard the sweet, melodious song of a golden-crowned kinglet emanating from the dense foliage of a nearby hemlock, and more distantly the plaintive whistle of a hermit thrush. Otherwise, the forest spoke to us in silence. We stopped by a shallow pool, in which the trees of the opposite side were perfectly reflected. At first enchanted by the magical beauty of the moment, we soon started to notice the details of our immediate environment. Small crustaceans of a type I had not expected in a forest pond were moving around just under the surface, which alerted us to an anomaly. This was solved by tasting the water, which turned out to be quite brackish.
Whereas the flora of the forest floor had few flowering plants, a meadow we entered had some wonderful flowers scattered among the grasses. We immediately focused on the small bunches of bright red flowers of small-flowered paintbrush, which is a partially parasitic plant, which attaches its roots to the roots of other plants, robbing them of sap. But we soon discovered the more abundant miniature white starflower, which is unique in the world in having a seven point symmetrical flower. Other favorites were the yellow, buttercup-like flowers of the silverweed, and the incomparable chocolate lillies.
One of the other groups spent a fair amount of time exploring the intertidal zone, where they found an abundance of different forms of invertebrate life. One of the most exciting finds was a large olive green isopod , which is a crustacean in the same order as our garden pillbugs or sowbugs. This intriguing animal goes by several common names such as rockweed isopod or kelp roach. It lives and feeds on seaweeds that have the same olive green color, and are an important food source for fish.
From what I hear, it is obvious to me that the kayakers had an equally fascinating time. For some, it was their first time ever paddling one of these mini-watercraft. To me, kayaking is the closest one can come to walking on water.
The afternoon was spent sailing towards tomorrow's destination, but with a number of spectacular detours into hidden coves and inlets, or for the purpose of cheering as Dall's porpoises rode the bow of the Sea Lion, or humpback whales provided us with a breaching show. In Red Bluff Bay we spotted three brown bears, one ambling around high up on a mountain, the other two grazing in the large green pasture at the head of the bay.
Thus ended our first day of this trip. The sun set among some streaky pink clouds behind the mountains of Baranof Island.
