Point Adolphus/Idaho Inlet
We spent the day in one of the wildest parts of Southeast Alaska. Icy Strait is bounded by the grand peaks of Chichagof Island and the icy wilderness of Glacier Bay. It connects the comparatively placid waters of the Inside Passage to the storm-swept open ocean of the Gulf of Alaska.
We awoke near Point Adolphus. Strong tidal currents flow past this promontory, stirring nutrient-laden bottom waters up to the sunlit surface. The result is a briny broth of extraordinary productivity. Plankton is so thick here that we could actually smell it – an odor neither fair nor foul, and impossible to describe, but it must be like sticking your nose in Neptune’s beard! Not surprisingly, all sorts of creatures make their way to this submarine dining room. We saw harbor porpoises wheeling along the surface. Steller sea lions rose and snorted like salty choo-choos. They tumbled over each other in boisterous play, or neared us, as if considering how to use the ship in some mischievous frolic. Eagles whirled in veritable flocks around us, suddenly swooping down to snatch a fish, or dashing away in acrobatic pursuit of some more successful hunter. But we came hoping for humpback whales. Sure enough they were abundant, spouting near and far, and lifting their elegant tails in motions that seemed at once delicate and inexorable. While the many great whales were impressive, they were far outshined by one little calf. This fellow, comparatively diminutive at ten or so tons, seemed bored with his mother’s steady feeding, and so worked off his dissatisfaction in a series of spectacular breaches. Some of these jumps were mere chin splashes, but others were aerial pirouettes of astonishing athleticism. We were gleeful and agog at this spectacle, and the real excitement had not yet begun! A short while later, long black fins were seen in the distance. Killer whales had arrived! For the next hour or so, several groups of whales traveled with us, their fins rhythmically slicing the surface. We often saw them swimming beneath the green water, but they still managed to surprise us by surfacing right beside the ship. Though fairly common in Southeast Alaska, killer whales are quite unpredictable. Every sighting is a lucky one, an experience to be greeted with joy.
After lunch we anchored by Chichagof Island. Kayakers continued their marine mammal experience as the killer whales swam by again. From the stillness of the kayaks, the whales’ breaths sounded loud, and perhaps not every paddler was hoping for a closer encounter! Hikers were guests in the house of the brown bear. The forest was laced with bear trails. Perhaps most interesting were deep divots in the forest’s mossy floor, where brown bears have trodden in the same spots for years, if not generations. Freshly eaten skunk cabbage showed that bears had been in the area perhaps just a few hours before, and tracks were not the only tokens that the bears had left behind! Carefully laid out trails conducted us conveniently from the shore to the stream and thence on to wide-open muskeg. Here we sampled the sweet and spicy scent of white bog orchid, and found the delicate violet-like blossoms of carnivorous butterwort. From the seemingly contradictory heights of this wetland we surveyed Icy Strait.
From the depths of the sea and the depths of the forest, we enjoyed the sights, sounds and scents of sumptuous Icy Strait.
We spent the day in one of the wildest parts of Southeast Alaska. Icy Strait is bounded by the grand peaks of Chichagof Island and the icy wilderness of Glacier Bay. It connects the comparatively placid waters of the Inside Passage to the storm-swept open ocean of the Gulf of Alaska.
We awoke near Point Adolphus. Strong tidal currents flow past this promontory, stirring nutrient-laden bottom waters up to the sunlit surface. The result is a briny broth of extraordinary productivity. Plankton is so thick here that we could actually smell it – an odor neither fair nor foul, and impossible to describe, but it must be like sticking your nose in Neptune’s beard! Not surprisingly, all sorts of creatures make their way to this submarine dining room. We saw harbor porpoises wheeling along the surface. Steller sea lions rose and snorted like salty choo-choos. They tumbled over each other in boisterous play, or neared us, as if considering how to use the ship in some mischievous frolic. Eagles whirled in veritable flocks around us, suddenly swooping down to snatch a fish, or dashing away in acrobatic pursuit of some more successful hunter. But we came hoping for humpback whales. Sure enough they were abundant, spouting near and far, and lifting their elegant tails in motions that seemed at once delicate and inexorable. While the many great whales were impressive, they were far outshined by one little calf. This fellow, comparatively diminutive at ten or so tons, seemed bored with his mother’s steady feeding, and so worked off his dissatisfaction in a series of spectacular breaches. Some of these jumps were mere chin splashes, but others were aerial pirouettes of astonishing athleticism. We were gleeful and agog at this spectacle, and the real excitement had not yet begun! A short while later, long black fins were seen in the distance. Killer whales had arrived! For the next hour or so, several groups of whales traveled with us, their fins rhythmically slicing the surface. We often saw them swimming beneath the green water, but they still managed to surprise us by surfacing right beside the ship. Though fairly common in Southeast Alaska, killer whales are quite unpredictable. Every sighting is a lucky one, an experience to be greeted with joy.
After lunch we anchored by Chichagof Island. Kayakers continued their marine mammal experience as the killer whales swam by again. From the stillness of the kayaks, the whales’ breaths sounded loud, and perhaps not every paddler was hoping for a closer encounter! Hikers were guests in the house of the brown bear. The forest was laced with bear trails. Perhaps most interesting were deep divots in the forest’s mossy floor, where brown bears have trodden in the same spots for years, if not generations. Freshly eaten skunk cabbage showed that bears had been in the area perhaps just a few hours before, and tracks were not the only tokens that the bears had left behind! Carefully laid out trails conducted us conveniently from the shore to the stream and thence on to wide-open muskeg. Here we sampled the sweet and spicy scent of white bog orchid, and found the delicate violet-like blossoms of carnivorous butterwort. From the seemingly contradictory heights of this wetland we surveyed Icy Strait.
From the depths of the sea and the depths of the forest, we enjoyed the sights, sounds and scents of sumptuous Icy Strait.
