Glacier Bay National Park and Preserve
There are many scenic areas in Southeast Alaska, and many that are rich with wildlife. There are many tracts of land owned by the federal government, and some of them enjoy some measure of conservation status. But among them all, one stands out as particularly significant: Glacier Bay National Park, a several million acre preserve set aside for its exceptional beauty, productivity, and value as wildlife habitat. And for another reason: to preserve a record of rapid change in the wake of retreating ice sheets.
We saw a graphic demonstration of the region’s productivity as we pulled up alongside South Marble Island just after breakfast. While we were trying to watch hordes of nesting pelagic cormorants, glaucous-wing gulls, and black-legged kittiwakes, we were startled by a young humpback whale breaching 150 feet from our starboard rail. Continuing around South Marble, we readily found pigeon guillemots, black oystercatchers, and both tufted and horned puffins. Perhaps 120 Steller sea lions were piled up on rocky ledges.
As we proceeded up the fjord and the sun broke through the mist, we found proof that the Bay provides habitat for even quite large animals. This came in the form of a brown bear mother and cub. They were foraging through the band of barnacles and mussels that line the entire Bay like a bathtub ring. This was a spring cub, born last January or February as the mother slept in her den, but already getting big and gangly on the bounty that coastal Alaska provides. Later, we ran into a pod of five transient orcas, working the waters of the lower Bay for seals or otters.
As for the beauty of Glacier Bay, we had ample opportunity to experience that when we arrived at the end of the fjord in front of Margerie Glacier. We drifted along just off Margerie’s gleaming white face, in the shadow of 250-foot towers of ice (“seracs”, as they’re called), and watched a torrential brown river of meltwater gush out from beneath the ice. The mountains of the mighty Fairweather Range loomed all around us.
We saw an illustration of the process of geologic and biologic change when we walked after dinner in the lush forest that surrounds Bartlett Cove. There we found an environment that contrasts sharply with the barren countryside we had seen around the glaciers 65 miles away. The Bartlett Cove area was vacated by the ice only about 200 years ago, and in that short span of time, this almost-mature temperate rainforest has built itself up from scratch.
Beyond a doubt, Glacier Bay is a special place—special in terms of what it has to offer, and in terms of its designation as a national park. Long may that designation keep it safe.
There are many scenic areas in Southeast Alaska, and many that are rich with wildlife. There are many tracts of land owned by the federal government, and some of them enjoy some measure of conservation status. But among them all, one stands out as particularly significant: Glacier Bay National Park, a several million acre preserve set aside for its exceptional beauty, productivity, and value as wildlife habitat. And for another reason: to preserve a record of rapid change in the wake of retreating ice sheets.
We saw a graphic demonstration of the region’s productivity as we pulled up alongside South Marble Island just after breakfast. While we were trying to watch hordes of nesting pelagic cormorants, glaucous-wing gulls, and black-legged kittiwakes, we were startled by a young humpback whale breaching 150 feet from our starboard rail. Continuing around South Marble, we readily found pigeon guillemots, black oystercatchers, and both tufted and horned puffins. Perhaps 120 Steller sea lions were piled up on rocky ledges.
As we proceeded up the fjord and the sun broke through the mist, we found proof that the Bay provides habitat for even quite large animals. This came in the form of a brown bear mother and cub. They were foraging through the band of barnacles and mussels that line the entire Bay like a bathtub ring. This was a spring cub, born last January or February as the mother slept in her den, but already getting big and gangly on the bounty that coastal Alaska provides. Later, we ran into a pod of five transient orcas, working the waters of the lower Bay for seals or otters.
As for the beauty of Glacier Bay, we had ample opportunity to experience that when we arrived at the end of the fjord in front of Margerie Glacier. We drifted along just off Margerie’s gleaming white face, in the shadow of 250-foot towers of ice (“seracs”, as they’re called), and watched a torrential brown river of meltwater gush out from beneath the ice. The mountains of the mighty Fairweather Range loomed all around us.
We saw an illustration of the process of geologic and biologic change when we walked after dinner in the lush forest that surrounds Bartlett Cove. There we found an environment that contrasts sharply with the barren countryside we had seen around the glaciers 65 miles away. The Bartlett Cove area was vacated by the ice only about 200 years ago, and in that short span of time, this almost-mature temperate rainforest has built itself up from scratch.
Beyond a doubt, Glacier Bay is a special place—special in terms of what it has to offer, and in terms of its designation as a national park. Long may that designation keep it safe.
