Glacier Bay
Today was a day to be blinded by sunbeams glinting off white ice. Cruising through Glacier Bay, growlers grinding against the hull of our ship, we could appreciate the immense icefields that filled this area 250 years ago. Approaching Johns Hopkins Glacier, hats and gloves were a necessity despite the full sun, as the glacier created its own microclimate. Kittlitz’s murrelets rafted in groups of six and harbor seals did their best to look like rocks on the floating ice chunks. We sailed so close to a cascading waterfall that those leaning on the bow barely missed becoming dampened by the spray. Crooked hag fingers of ice pointed accusingly as Pacific loons with their silvered heads winged over them. We were riveted by the majestic vision of two individuals of our nation’s bird poised side by side on a single block of ice. As we passed, one took flight, its seven-foot wingspan and powerful pectoral muscles showcased against the azure sky while the other bald eagle remained steadfast, its eye critically assessing our ship.
The sheer mountain cliffs must be strict learning grounds, as one false step could result in a disastrous slip down a precipice. We happened upon a nursery area, with a mountain goat and her kid (likely only a few days old) and a brown she-bear with two cubs. While many of us feared a predatory pursuit, the mother bear merely pulled down tree branches and the cubs practiced tree climbing (relatively unsuccessfully). Further along, mountain goats clustered on rounded bluffs, wandered through the gullies; some merely snoozed in the full sun, their coats a bright beacon on the slate-colored rock. At South Marble Island, the growls and grunts of the sea lions were echoed by the surprised utterings of our guests as the wind shifted and the smell of sea lion social gatherings wafted across the water. Our attention was drawn next to the screams of the kittiwakes that flew up in alarm as a bald eagle pillaged their nests. The smaller birds were helpless to protect their offspring and watched in dismay as the larger predator had its pick of the nests. While the perched eagle looks regal, in reality it is willing to eat any easy food item, dead or alive, and even to steal food from other birds. Hmm, perhaps this kleptoparasitism is an effective feeding strategy that we should try at dinner tonight!
Approaching a kelp bed, over fifty sea otters played together and fed among the algae. Our gasps were audible as a large number of these smallest marine mammals approached the ship, necks craning to get a better view. Sights like these prove that curiosity about the greater world, and a drive to explore, are not solely human traits, but ingrained animal instincts. Explore on!
Today was a day to be blinded by sunbeams glinting off white ice. Cruising through Glacier Bay, growlers grinding against the hull of our ship, we could appreciate the immense icefields that filled this area 250 years ago. Approaching Johns Hopkins Glacier, hats and gloves were a necessity despite the full sun, as the glacier created its own microclimate. Kittlitz’s murrelets rafted in groups of six and harbor seals did their best to look like rocks on the floating ice chunks. We sailed so close to a cascading waterfall that those leaning on the bow barely missed becoming dampened by the spray. Crooked hag fingers of ice pointed accusingly as Pacific loons with their silvered heads winged over them. We were riveted by the majestic vision of two individuals of our nation’s bird poised side by side on a single block of ice. As we passed, one took flight, its seven-foot wingspan and powerful pectoral muscles showcased against the azure sky while the other bald eagle remained steadfast, its eye critically assessing our ship.
The sheer mountain cliffs must be strict learning grounds, as one false step could result in a disastrous slip down a precipice. We happened upon a nursery area, with a mountain goat and her kid (likely only a few days old) and a brown she-bear with two cubs. While many of us feared a predatory pursuit, the mother bear merely pulled down tree branches and the cubs practiced tree climbing (relatively unsuccessfully). Further along, mountain goats clustered on rounded bluffs, wandered through the gullies; some merely snoozed in the full sun, their coats a bright beacon on the slate-colored rock. At South Marble Island, the growls and grunts of the sea lions were echoed by the surprised utterings of our guests as the wind shifted and the smell of sea lion social gatherings wafted across the water. Our attention was drawn next to the screams of the kittiwakes that flew up in alarm as a bald eagle pillaged their nests. The smaller birds were helpless to protect their offspring and watched in dismay as the larger predator had its pick of the nests. While the perched eagle looks regal, in reality it is willing to eat any easy food item, dead or alive, and even to steal food from other birds. Hmm, perhaps this kleptoparasitism is an effective feeding strategy that we should try at dinner tonight!
Approaching a kelp bed, over fifty sea otters played together and fed among the algae. Our gasps were audible as a large number of these smallest marine mammals approached the ship, necks craning to get a better view. Sights like these prove that curiosity about the greater world, and a drive to explore, are not solely human traits, but ingrained animal instincts. Explore on!
