Chichagof Island, Alaska
Life in the wilderness of Alaska is often beautiful, and often harsh. Deer abound on Chichagof Island, since wolves, their major predator, have never reached it. Yet their very numbers make deer vulnerable to other forces. We’ve found snow astonishingly low on the hillsides this year, and locals tell us that last winter’s snowfall was particularly heavy. Snow is tough on deer, and it’s obvious that many didn’t make it. A bad year for deer is a good year for bears. Emerging from their dens, many found freshly dead deer – a valuable source of food in a time of general privation. Looking at the scavenged remains, we considered the bears’ good fortune. Nature is matter-of-fact. It’s for us to find meaning in her events. But the nature of Southeast Alaska, whether charming or repugnant, elegant or crude, never fails to stimulate our interest.
Our morning began in Idaho Inlet. Bright light alternated with rain showers, and we saw a series of rainbows. Sea otters are common here. We saw lots paddling through the emerald green water, or floating comfortably in groups called rafts. Otters need to keep their fur immaculately clean, and their constant grooming is entertaining. Still, it’s clear that the otters find the water chilly. Whenever possible they keep their feet out of the water, as if holding mittened hands up for our inspection.
Landing by Fox Creek, we crunched over striped and speckled beach rocks, traversed an undulating series of swales, and entered the forest. Wildlife sign at Fox Creek is particularly interesting. We walked along bear trails. In a few special places, bears place their feet in the same spots every time they use a trail, making a series of divots in a mossy bed. We followed such a trail, and saw where a bear, marking its territory, clawed a spruce tree. The resiny furrows were higher than any of us could reach. Deer tracks were scattered over beach and forest floor. No doubt these deer were relieved to have survived the winter. We found the remains of three deer nearby amongst the trees. Many of us climbed through the forest to reach muskeg. This park-like environment is a delight to explore.
By afternoon we were anchored in the Inian Islands. By Zodiac, we explored one of the channels of this archipelago. The Inians lie at the entrance to the open ocean, and big waves can pound their shores. Great tidal currents sweep by, forming swift rivers of saltwater. From the quiet lee of an island, we viewed the drama of frothy breakers wrought by Hokkaido’s storms. Stellar sea lions live in the Inians, and many swam by our Zodiacs, often thrillingly close. They rose, snorting. They rolled their goggly eyes at us in suspicious curiosity, grimaced, and slipped beneath the swirling water.
Tidal currents also stir the waters of Point Adolphus. The water here is so rich that you can often smell the phytoplankton. After dinner we found many whales here, including three that at times were so near the ship that we could practically jump off onto their backs. The profound, inexorable grace of the whales was counterbalanced by the goofy antics of young sea lions. They were clearly taking pleasure in a speedy frolic around their weightier companions.
Icy Strait is rich and wild. Exploring it by land or sea is an unforgettable event.
Life in the wilderness of Alaska is often beautiful, and often harsh. Deer abound on Chichagof Island, since wolves, their major predator, have never reached it. Yet their very numbers make deer vulnerable to other forces. We’ve found snow astonishingly low on the hillsides this year, and locals tell us that last winter’s snowfall was particularly heavy. Snow is tough on deer, and it’s obvious that many didn’t make it. A bad year for deer is a good year for bears. Emerging from their dens, many found freshly dead deer – a valuable source of food in a time of general privation. Looking at the scavenged remains, we considered the bears’ good fortune. Nature is matter-of-fact. It’s for us to find meaning in her events. But the nature of Southeast Alaska, whether charming or repugnant, elegant or crude, never fails to stimulate our interest.
Our morning began in Idaho Inlet. Bright light alternated with rain showers, and we saw a series of rainbows. Sea otters are common here. We saw lots paddling through the emerald green water, or floating comfortably in groups called rafts. Otters need to keep their fur immaculately clean, and their constant grooming is entertaining. Still, it’s clear that the otters find the water chilly. Whenever possible they keep their feet out of the water, as if holding mittened hands up for our inspection.
Landing by Fox Creek, we crunched over striped and speckled beach rocks, traversed an undulating series of swales, and entered the forest. Wildlife sign at Fox Creek is particularly interesting. We walked along bear trails. In a few special places, bears place their feet in the same spots every time they use a trail, making a series of divots in a mossy bed. We followed such a trail, and saw where a bear, marking its territory, clawed a spruce tree. The resiny furrows were higher than any of us could reach. Deer tracks were scattered over beach and forest floor. No doubt these deer were relieved to have survived the winter. We found the remains of three deer nearby amongst the trees. Many of us climbed through the forest to reach muskeg. This park-like environment is a delight to explore.
By afternoon we were anchored in the Inian Islands. By Zodiac, we explored one of the channels of this archipelago. The Inians lie at the entrance to the open ocean, and big waves can pound their shores. Great tidal currents sweep by, forming swift rivers of saltwater. From the quiet lee of an island, we viewed the drama of frothy breakers wrought by Hokkaido’s storms. Stellar sea lions live in the Inians, and many swam by our Zodiacs, often thrillingly close. They rose, snorting. They rolled their goggly eyes at us in suspicious curiosity, grimaced, and slipped beneath the swirling water.
Tidal currents also stir the waters of Point Adolphus. The water here is so rich that you can often smell the phytoplankton. After dinner we found many whales here, including three that at times were so near the ship that we could practically jump off onto their backs. The profound, inexorable grace of the whales was counterbalanced by the goofy antics of young sea lions. They were clearly taking pleasure in a speedy frolic around their weightier companions.
Icy Strait is rich and wild. Exploring it by land or sea is an unforgettable event.
