Ideal Creek, Petersburg, and the LeConte Glacier
A day that begins with whales is a good day, indeed. We awoke heading south in Frederick Sound, the steam from our morning cup of coffee drifting off to join with the fog that draped the surrounding mountains, snagging on forests of spruce and hemlock. A long, dark object ahead of the Sea Lion drifted up and down in the gentle sea swell. One, who shall remain unmentioned, said with confidence “It’s a log.” And that is why they call it logging behavior. We were seeing the back of a humpback whale as it rose ever so languidly to the surface…exhale…inhale…and then settled back and disappeared from view, the process repeated over and over. What images pass through the mind of a sleeping whale, if, in fact it was sleeping? Some questions are beyond the reach of science. And then our whale changed its behavior to swim much more actively, lunging to the surface with mouth agape. Perhaps it had awakened to find itself in a swarm of krill – the relatively large (as plankton go) crustaceans that are the main food of humpback whales in Frederick Sound – and was seizing the moment to begin its day of feeding, replenishing the stores of blubber that were consumed during its previous winter in Hawaii.
Our morning destination was Ideal Creek on Mitkof Island. Here a U.S. Forest Service trail provides access into a magnificent stand of old-growth Temperate Rainforest. The soft moss of the forest floor would never stand up to the passage of many boots, so the trail is a narrow boardwalk balanced precariously on logs. It was just a wee bit slippery from the frequent rains (OK – it was a lot slippery!) but, with care, we managed well and we were well rewarded for our efforts. More than a few Alaska blueberries and the occasional salmonberry were picked for careful examination. The stream that flowed to our left as we ascended the trail will soon bring sockeye salmon from the sea into the lake above to spawn, and their nutrients will fuel the growth of the forest. A winter wren sang out its joy in a loud, liquid trill.
Our afternoon was spent in the community of Petersburg, where most families derive their livelihood, directly or indirectly, from fishing. We had opportunities for a walk up another boardwalk trail to reach a muskeg (a bog with scattered, stunted trees) to admire the sundews, bog orchids, and the lovely (?!) scent of the white flower of the deer cabbage. Or we could walk into the nearby town. Or we could stroll along the dock, sorting out the different types of fishing vessels and engaging the locals in conversation. (Or, for some, we could be reunited with our heretofore-missing luggage!) As we enjoyed our afternoon in Petersburg, boxes of fresh-from-the-ocean Dungeness crab came aboard for our dinner, an all-you-can-eat gustatory frenzy.
And still we were not done. As the crab was consumed (with more enthusiasm than delicacy), we sailed north into LeConte Bay. At its head the LeConte Glacier reaches the sea and calves an enormous amount of ice daily into the fjord. We found ourselves navigating delicately around icebergs of all sizes and phantasmagorical shapes. Many of them were floating platforms for harbor seals. The female seals come into the ice-choked fjords to have their pups where they will be safe from marauding killer whales. More seals looked up at us from the water with their big, dark eyes, the better to find their food in the depths of the fjord.
And so to bed, after a full and rewarding day in Southeast Alaska.
A day that begins with whales is a good day, indeed. We awoke heading south in Frederick Sound, the steam from our morning cup of coffee drifting off to join with the fog that draped the surrounding mountains, snagging on forests of spruce and hemlock. A long, dark object ahead of the Sea Lion drifted up and down in the gentle sea swell. One, who shall remain unmentioned, said with confidence “It’s a log.” And that is why they call it logging behavior. We were seeing the back of a humpback whale as it rose ever so languidly to the surface…exhale…inhale…and then settled back and disappeared from view, the process repeated over and over. What images pass through the mind of a sleeping whale, if, in fact it was sleeping? Some questions are beyond the reach of science. And then our whale changed its behavior to swim much more actively, lunging to the surface with mouth agape. Perhaps it had awakened to find itself in a swarm of krill – the relatively large (as plankton go) crustaceans that are the main food of humpback whales in Frederick Sound – and was seizing the moment to begin its day of feeding, replenishing the stores of blubber that were consumed during its previous winter in Hawaii.
Our morning destination was Ideal Creek on Mitkof Island. Here a U.S. Forest Service trail provides access into a magnificent stand of old-growth Temperate Rainforest. The soft moss of the forest floor would never stand up to the passage of many boots, so the trail is a narrow boardwalk balanced precariously on logs. It was just a wee bit slippery from the frequent rains (OK – it was a lot slippery!) but, with care, we managed well and we were well rewarded for our efforts. More than a few Alaska blueberries and the occasional salmonberry were picked for careful examination. The stream that flowed to our left as we ascended the trail will soon bring sockeye salmon from the sea into the lake above to spawn, and their nutrients will fuel the growth of the forest. A winter wren sang out its joy in a loud, liquid trill.
Our afternoon was spent in the community of Petersburg, where most families derive their livelihood, directly or indirectly, from fishing. We had opportunities for a walk up another boardwalk trail to reach a muskeg (a bog with scattered, stunted trees) to admire the sundews, bog orchids, and the lovely (?!) scent of the white flower of the deer cabbage. Or we could walk into the nearby town. Or we could stroll along the dock, sorting out the different types of fishing vessels and engaging the locals in conversation. (Or, for some, we could be reunited with our heretofore-missing luggage!) As we enjoyed our afternoon in Petersburg, boxes of fresh-from-the-ocean Dungeness crab came aboard for our dinner, an all-you-can-eat gustatory frenzy.
And still we were not done. As the crab was consumed (with more enthusiasm than delicacy), we sailed north into LeConte Bay. At its head the LeConte Glacier reaches the sea and calves an enormous amount of ice daily into the fjord. We found ourselves navigating delicately around icebergs of all sizes and phantasmagorical shapes. Many of them were floating platforms for harbor seals. The female seals come into the ice-choked fjords to have their pups where they will be safe from marauding killer whales. More seals looked up at us from the water with their big, dark eyes, the better to find their food in the depths of the fjord.
And so to bed, after a full and rewarding day in Southeast Alaska.
