Glacier Bay National Park, Alaska
Waking up on any day of a vacation is wonderful, but waking up in the heart of the largest wilderness area in the world is something very special. Today was such a day.
Midnight found Sea Lion crossing into Glacier Bay National Park for an all-night run north into Tarr Inlet, the northern-most arm of this magnificent series of fjords. We peered out of our windows to the stunning view of the clear blue ice of Margerie Glacier. Always thought to be named in honor of a gentleman geologist, historians are now saying that it was probably named in honor of a woman - a certain Mademoiselle Margerie. We will stand by for more details. Off our starboard and connecting with Margerie was Grand Pacific Glacier, the parent river of ice which, up to 208 years ago, filled all 65 miles of what we now call Glacier Bay. In 1794 Captain George Vancouver was stopped by the snout of the glacier and its calving icebergs just five miles into this fjord. Icy Strait at the south end of the bay was appropriately named in those years.
Times change and ice melts, and the beauty and spectacular scenery here have perhaps never been better. Recent government decisions in two countries have been on the side of conserving wild lands. The St. Elias-Tatshenshini World Wilderness Reserve - the largest in the world - encompasses almost 20 million contiguous acres. It includes Glacier Bay National Park and Wrangell-St. Elias National Park (both in Alaska), Tatshenshini-Alsek Provincial Park in British Columbia, and Kluane National Park Reserve in Yukon. It is home to grizzly bears, black bears (including the rare "glacier" form of this species), mountain goats, Dall sheep, King Eiders, Steller's Eiders, Trumpeter Swans, Gyrfalcons, sea otters and even humpback and killer whales. Early morning scenes such as shown here at Johns Hopkins Inlet make one proud that foresight has been used in designating the uses of at least some of our remote and harsh lands.
We cruised throughout the day in this park, watching glaciers as they calved into the cold waters; spotting bears, mountain goats and both Tufted and Horned Puffins; searching along the shores of side inlets; and smiling at the antics and guttural sounds of a large group of northern (Steller's) sea lions. They were basking on the rocks of South Marble Island. One young male had managed to get himself much higher up on the rocky slopes than the rest. He was scrambling among the grasses and Glaucous-winged Gull nests, some nests still with young nearby. The drop-off was too steep and high for him, but he managed to find a slippery slope, took aim and slid down the 20 to 30 feet, only to crash like a bowling ball into his pals below.
Another sea lion, pictured below, was also in jeopardy. The sight if a tasty salmon, no doubt struggling on the hook of a commercial troller somewhere outside of Glacier Bay, was too tempting. In grabbing the fish, this unlucky individual hooked himself. His fight at the end of the line was probably short-lived. The line broke, but above the herring dodger that trollers use to attract salmon. The dodger, seen here dangling from his mouth, will probably affect his ability to eat. With luck, though, the hook will rust away in the corrosive salt water and a sore jaw will be the only damage done. On a world scale, though, the unintentional damage to marine animals as a result of our commercial activities is something about which we must all be concerned.
