Idaho Inlet, Elfin Cove, and the Inian Islands
The mouth of Idaho Inlet was the location of our morning’s outings. Fox Creek (don’t think we’ve ever seen a fox there…) is a gorgeous forest with old-growth stands of spruce and hemlock, moss-covered tree trunks fallen by the ages, ancient museum quality bear tracks are sunk in the soft ground, preserved by time. We found scratching trees with bear hair in the bark, and just a few salmon in the salmon stream. Plenty of gulls and eagles, however, were watching the stream mouth with focused attention as the small fan of deposited material became ever more exposed with the approaching low tide, and the few returning salmon found it more difficult to hide in the shallows.
We left Fox Creek and cruised into Idaho Inlet in an attempt to sneak up on rafts of sea otters, which we successfully managed to do with the crafty steering of our Second Mate on the bridge. Although they kept an eye on us all the while, the group remained calm, grooming, doing their barrel rolls, paws rubbing ears, eyes and mouth in an unexpected parody of see, hear and speak no evil.
The afternoon found us in Elfin Cove, home to very few year-round residents, but to many fishermen during the spring, summer, and fall months. The sky cleared as we headed home to the ship, exposing the Fairweather Mountains and their brilliant white blanket of snow-capped peaks.
The final ride of the afternoon took us through the Inian Islands, around the corner from Elfin Cove. The normally strong and tenacious current was lazy today around the ebb tide, allowing us to hove too when a Sitka black-tailed deer was spotted grazing precariously above a sheer rock face. Steller sea lions were raucous in their gangs as they cruised “main street” down the Inian channel. Sea otters were seen, though hidden well in kelp beds, and drawing us out into Cross Sound were the flukes of a humpback whale.
The mouth of Idaho Inlet was the location of our morning’s outings. Fox Creek (don’t think we’ve ever seen a fox there…) is a gorgeous forest with old-growth stands of spruce and hemlock, moss-covered tree trunks fallen by the ages, ancient museum quality bear tracks are sunk in the soft ground, preserved by time. We found scratching trees with bear hair in the bark, and just a few salmon in the salmon stream. Plenty of gulls and eagles, however, were watching the stream mouth with focused attention as the small fan of deposited material became ever more exposed with the approaching low tide, and the few returning salmon found it more difficult to hide in the shallows.
We left Fox Creek and cruised into Idaho Inlet in an attempt to sneak up on rafts of sea otters, which we successfully managed to do with the crafty steering of our Second Mate on the bridge. Although they kept an eye on us all the while, the group remained calm, grooming, doing their barrel rolls, paws rubbing ears, eyes and mouth in an unexpected parody of see, hear and speak no evil.
The afternoon found us in Elfin Cove, home to very few year-round residents, but to many fishermen during the spring, summer, and fall months. The sky cleared as we headed home to the ship, exposing the Fairweather Mountains and their brilliant white blanket of snow-capped peaks.
The final ride of the afternoon took us through the Inian Islands, around the corner from Elfin Cove. The normally strong and tenacious current was lazy today around the ebb tide, allowing us to hove too when a Sitka black-tailed deer was spotted grazing precariously above a sheer rock face. Steller sea lions were raucous in their gangs as they cruised “main street” down the Inian channel. Sea otters were seen, though hidden well in kelp beds, and drawing us out into Cross Sound were the flukes of a humpback whale.
