Icy Strait, Fox Creek, Shaw Islands
I’m exhausted. Today, Southeast Alaska’s wonders showed up early and just kept coming. How could so much happen in just one day?
We woke under silver-wet skies just off the shore of Lemesurier Island, humpback whales all around us. A group of six large females were rising and diving synchronously, their huge exhalations sounding out across the water—perhaps some of a core group of humpback females that frequent these waters and feed together year after year, quite an anomaly among humpbacks, which usually only associate with one another casually and are not often known to form or exhibit long-term bonds. A couple of rolls and slaps and leaps threw salt spray up into the air, and a calf dallied at the surface as its mom dove and foraged among the rich currents.
When we left these animals to head toward the hikes and kayaking expeditions that we’d planned, a big black-and-white monkey-wrench was thrown into the works, and we couldn’t have been more thrilled. Killer whales! A pod of about 25-30 resident killer whales allowed us to accompany them for well over an hour as they traveled through Icy Strait. A couple of the younger whales, still yellowish around the eye-spot, tail-lobbed, spy-hopped, and cavorted among their larger pod members. Even though we knew these were salmon-eaters and not marine mammal-eaters, we couldn’t help but imagine impending drama when the pod of sharp-finned orcas made their way into an area where the very same humpbacks we’d watched earlier were feeding.
After a bit of re-shuffling of our abandoned plans, we set ashore at Fox Creek in Idaho Inlet. There, hikers trekked along streams and wondered at the signs that another large mammal of Alaska—the coastal brown bear—had left behind. Near-ritualistic tracks and scratching trees at the edge of the forest led us to speculate what we might see if we could only disappear for a while among the hemlock.
After lunch, kayakers set off to circumnavigate the Shaw Islands, and Zodiacs took others to explore the mouth of Idaho Inlet. Humpback whales surfaced in the channels, sea otters raised their grizzled heads, and harbor seals slapped the kelp-smoothed water while bald eagles chattered and soared above.
Sated and saturated by the day’s wildlife, we returned to the Sea Lion, each of us with a memory of a sound or sighting that will be treasured, will be taken out once we’re home and shared as a story of this amazing place.
I’m exhausted. Today, Southeast Alaska’s wonders showed up early and just kept coming. How could so much happen in just one day?
We woke under silver-wet skies just off the shore of Lemesurier Island, humpback whales all around us. A group of six large females were rising and diving synchronously, their huge exhalations sounding out across the water—perhaps some of a core group of humpback females that frequent these waters and feed together year after year, quite an anomaly among humpbacks, which usually only associate with one another casually and are not often known to form or exhibit long-term bonds. A couple of rolls and slaps and leaps threw salt spray up into the air, and a calf dallied at the surface as its mom dove and foraged among the rich currents.
When we left these animals to head toward the hikes and kayaking expeditions that we’d planned, a big black-and-white monkey-wrench was thrown into the works, and we couldn’t have been more thrilled. Killer whales! A pod of about 25-30 resident killer whales allowed us to accompany them for well over an hour as they traveled through Icy Strait. A couple of the younger whales, still yellowish around the eye-spot, tail-lobbed, spy-hopped, and cavorted among their larger pod members. Even though we knew these were salmon-eaters and not marine mammal-eaters, we couldn’t help but imagine impending drama when the pod of sharp-finned orcas made their way into an area where the very same humpbacks we’d watched earlier were feeding.
After a bit of re-shuffling of our abandoned plans, we set ashore at Fox Creek in Idaho Inlet. There, hikers trekked along streams and wondered at the signs that another large mammal of Alaska—the coastal brown bear—had left behind. Near-ritualistic tracks and scratching trees at the edge of the forest led us to speculate what we might see if we could only disappear for a while among the hemlock.
After lunch, kayakers set off to circumnavigate the Shaw Islands, and Zodiacs took others to explore the mouth of Idaho Inlet. Humpback whales surfaced in the channels, sea otters raised their grizzled heads, and harbor seals slapped the kelp-smoothed water while bald eagles chattered and soared above.
Sated and saturated by the day’s wildlife, we returned to the Sea Lion, each of us with a memory of a sound or sighting that will be treasured, will be taken out once we’re home and shared as a story of this amazing place.
