Thursday | June 23

YES BAY

“INTO THE SUBLIME”

Rainy day in the upper reaches of Yes Bay. In the morning, I lead a rainforest walk described as a “fast, technical hike”. We land at the dock of the Yes Bay Lodge, a comfortable fishing lodge with beautiful cabins overlooking the bay and Wolverine River.

We follow the river about 1.5 miles up to McDonald Lake where a forest service cabin lies on a tiny island. All of us are sopping wet from the overhanging vegetation and have mud covering our shoes, but we are happy to be in the verdant riparian corridor.

The trail is actually quite technical with lots of slippery roots and rocks, turns and short climbs up and down along the river.

 

We finally arrive at Lake McDonald and meet some folks renting the Forest Service cabin. They travelled from the draught-ridden state of Texas. They love the verdant countryside and the excellent fishing opportunities. We also meet a couple of forest service rangers that have orange inflatable kayaks for patrolling the shoreline.

On our way back, we pass a couple of fly fisherman and later at the dock, see deep-sea fisherman returning with King Salmon, lingcod, greenling, rockfish and halibut. Many guests at the lodge do catch and release, but several pay the significant cost of shipping ($250, minimum) the fish home.

 

In the afternoon, I lead four guests on a quiet kayak up the fiord. The only sound is paddle strokes, the occasional cry of an eagle or call of a thrush. The water is as smooth as glass, except for the tiny concentric circles that emanate from the light, falling rain. This is as close as one can get to perfection…for entering into the sublime—the heart of the Wilderness.

 

Late in the evening, we send off more than a half dozen double kayaks and 4 stand-up paddleboarders for an after-dinner paddle. The steady drizzle did not deter anyone today, nor did it dampen the spirit of the gung-ho snorkelers. The twin hot tubs on the back of the 300 deck were in full use throughout the day and evening.

Wednesday | June 22

Wrangell is a good day for us guides. Our usual 12 to 14-hour day is cut down to only 10 or so hours. We work on projects and accompany guests on walking tours. We enjoy two hours of our own time in town to visit a coffee shop or a trip to the library.

My favorite spot is a toss-up between Chief Shakes Tribal House or the Nolan Center Museum. I get great vibes from the totem poles and absolutely love the performance by singers and dancers at the tribal house.

The Nolan Center is where I can duck my head into the bookstore and peruse good books and interact with visitors and staff.

Just after lunch, Luis and Justin, our chefs, have a fine time cleaning two garbage cans worth of Dungeness Crab on the dock below the main pier in Wrangell. We are excited about our dinner later tonight!

Kids in town sell garnets that come from a local spot in the mountains. The Boy Scouts and Girl Scouts benefit from the proceeds. It’s fun interacting with the kids that are hawking the garnets at the base of the pier.

Tonight it is Bar Trivia Quiz night w/ guides Kim and Megan. Most of the questions concern natural history facts. Some pertain to ship statistics such as: “How long is the vessel?” Answer: 170 feet.

“Geez”, I say to a fellow guest, “that sure is a small area to live in for 60 some odd passenger-guests and 26 crew.” That is 57 yards, the equivalent of a long field-goal in American football. We are 38 feet wide or almost 13 yards.

I start thinking of the size of my home. The crew quarters cabin I live in is 4 steps long by two steps wide. The bathroom or “head” is a place where if you put your arms akimbo, they hit walls no matter which way you turn. Sitting on the “royal throne”, shaving and showering can be done all at once…that way you don’t miss any wildlife or scenery highlights out on the decks!

Our maximum speed is not much more than 9 knots or 10mph…the speed of a bicyclist at a leisurely pace. We are anchored more than half the week, i.e. we are motoring about 10 hours or 100 miles a day. That’s less than 2 miles per day per passenger. The large cruise ships travel at least 18 hours a day and cover a much longer distance, from Seattle, Washington to Ketchikan, Sitka, Juneau, Glacier Bay and/or Skagway and all the way back down in 7 days. That’s close to 2000 nautical miles and at least 4 full days out of the week motoring 24/7.

Tuesday | June 21

Happy Summer Solstice, Everybody!

I am happy to be leading an all-day kayak trip with only 5 takers (hiking options are almost too good to pass up). We decide to circumnavigate Ruth Island in Thomas Bay. Thomas Bay is less than 15 miles northeast of Petersburg, Alaska.

The paddling affords one with the most serene moments. For me, kayaking is a primal urge. It’s very representative of the ineffable nature of time. The present moment is occupied with movement. Your eyes and paddle strokes look toward a nearby or distant future. You get into a pace and try and maintain speed and direction toward a waypoint. Behind you a wake is left, ripples on an endless sea. Your path has been etched upon the canvass of your ever-evolving soul.

 

Indeed, a paddling trip in the Alaskan Wilderness is a most enriching experience that will fill you with a youthful vigor that will last a long time. Memories are made with each paddle stroke because all of our senses are engaged. Our blood is transporting carbohydrates and oxygen to our thirsty tissues. We are keen on finding the perfect stroke and pace. Is there any outdoor sport more ideal than kayaking?

I give thanks for the Greenlander Inuit and the Aleuts for inventing the perfect craft 1000s’s of years ago.

We paddle in a counter-clockwise direction and have many highlights today.

We see Sitka black-tailed deer...

A Mink...

Not to mention a baby seal hauled out on rocks, moose scat, a bald eagles nest, family of merganser ducks, and fields of colorful flowers dancing in a breeze beneath a cerulean sky.

About half-way through our trip, I notice on my map a very narrow opening to what looks like a lake. It happens to be a marine lake that is accessible only at a high tide! However, we are not sure that we can make it through the very narrow passageway.

We paddle up and discover walls thick with mussels and a channel bottom covered with sea anemones.

We park the kayaks on a mud beach nearby and are able to walk at the high-tide line to the 500 meter long lake. The rainforest around it is very lush.

We name the lake “Silver” for our silver anniversary couple!

Back on the ship everyone is pumped-up from so many adventures to share with fellow shipmates. We lift anchor and motor past the town of Petersburg (population 3600) and enjoy the Summer Solstice sunset while transiting the Wrangell Narrows on our way to our anchorage near Wrangell.

 

Monday | June 20

Thomas Bay and the Baird Glacier

Everyone is very excited for the opportunity to walk up to and on a glacier. First, however, guests have to endure a cold ride on small boats for 30 minutes up the glacial melt-water river to a steep bank drop-off. We disembark on basketball-sized boulders and make our way up to a sandy area where plants are recolonizing the deglaciated landscape.

I draw a large circle in the sand with a stick and receive some quizzical looks from my group of 18 hikers. I explain: “This large circle I’ve drawn is planet earth. I draw some lines north and south of the equator and semi-circles just below the North and South poles.”

I jam my stick into one of the dashed lines on my make-shift earth. “Tomorrow at 12 noon at this location 23-degrees north of the equator there will be no shadow cast. What is the name of this geographical position? Right you are, the Tropic of Cancer! What will happen at this circle just below the North Pole? Yes, exactly 24-hours of daylight…no sunset will be seen at the Arctic Circle at 66-degrees north latitude.”

“The long daylight is the reason the humpback whales swim from Hawaii and the gray whales from Mexico. With such long days in the northern hemisphere, plankton blooms are fed upon by krill and schooling fish which provides sustenance not only for whales but other marine mammals and seabirds as well.”

“The Arctic Tern flies up from Antarctica along with millions of migratory birds from central and south America. The long days provide just the right conditions for insects to multiply by the billions. They in turn allow our avian friends to raise not just one brood but two or three with the ability to feed young around-the-clock. If there is a term to describe Alaska and the Far North at this time of year it is “fecund”.”

Just a little bit higher from my scratchings-in-the-sand we are pleased to see so many gorgeous flowers blooming on the moss and lichen-covered rocks.

It’s about a mile walk past the recently colonized outwash plain. Small alders are the next seral stage of plant succession after the mosses and lichens. A few out-of-place sapling conifers such as the spruce and hemlock were seen. They are doomed because there is far too little nitrogen in the soil.

I mention that it will take more than a century from now before the alders give way to the conifers: “We’ll have to make reservations now and come back with our artificial hearts, brains and limbs to see the changes a century or two from now….”

Indeed, glacial rubble to temperate rainforest is a 200-year process from a recently deglaciated landscape. In the wake of the receding glaciers, forests advance and following the greening landscape are mammals, first the herbivores and then the carnivores.

 

I spot inter-stadial stumps in the terminal moraine. Otherwise known as “fossil wood” which John Muir described in his book “Travels in Alaska”. He actually burned it during his campfires with his Tlingit Indian guides and Presbitarian Missionary friend Samuel Hall Young. Carbon dating techniques in Glacier Bay National Park and Preserve put some of these non-decomposed stumps at 1000’s of years old…at least up until the point where they are exposed to air from erosion, after millennia buried in rubble.

Our trek across the glacier is a favorite activity for our guests. There is the boot-sucking mud that grabs at our boots during our walk. Also, many features of the glacial surface and moraine just in front of the snout keeps you contemplating, for example: What forces are at work to produce such bizarre sand-covered pyramids? They stand several feet high and are covered with fine sand. Most seem to be along a transverse and sutured closed crevasse.

We head back elated from our days adventure for our small boat trip back to the mother ship.

Sunday | June 19

Tracy Arm and the Sawyer Glaciers

Terns and Eagles On Ice!

Today is the first of several days visiting up to 7 different glaciers in the Coastal Mountains of Southeast Alaska. The seven glaciers our guests have choices to see emanating from the Stikine Icefield: Sawyer, South Sawyer, Dawes, Baird, Patterson LeConte and Shakes (the latter two are in ice-choked waters and require a 3rd party shore excursion operator that uses special boats or float planes).

The Stikine Icefield is approximately 100 miles long from the Whiting River in the north to the Stikine River in the south and about 30 miles wide from tidewater up and over the crest of the Coast Range past the international boundary into British Colombia, Canada.

We lift anchor on the outside of Holkham Bay and make our way 21 nautical miles up Tracy Arm to the Sawyer glaciers, one of the most extraordinary fjords in the world. I spend the morning on the forward deck where guests congregate on two levels to take in the outstanding scenery.

Guests are taken aback by the sudden appearance of a large Silversea cruise ship named the M/S Silver Shadow. We could count only 10 people out on decks (port side). Perhaps they were all on the starboard side taking-in the massive granitic walls. It’s amazing how small and how few decks we have in comparison.

Further up the fjord, it’s exciting to see the long-distance champion of all the 9,200 species of birds on the planet: the Arctic Tern. It flies up to Alaska to breed from as far south as the Antarctic continent.

I figure it has to be flying 12,000 miles up here to breed and another 12,000 to return for feeding in the Austral Summer. With all the extra flying they do searching for food, particularly during the northern summer to find food and feed the young, I’m guessing they do close to 30,000 miles a year, which equates to 2500 miles a month or over 80 miles a day.

Arctic Terns join the Mew and Glaucous-winged gulls plying the waters for hand-sized shrimp and schooling fish at the face of the glacier. When tons of ice fall during calving events, all sorts of prey is churned up to the surface, arriving discombobulated or dead for easy pickings.

We offer small boat tours that prove to be productive for watching calving events with thunderous sounds and significant swells generated. On our way back to ship, we see and welcome two Tongass National Forest Rangers aboard who arrive via kayak to our stern.

The highlight of the early afternoon is a significant number of Bald Eagles perched on several ice-bergs.

I’ve rarely seen more than one on a berg. To see a dozen or more on the blue ice was thrilling and it was only a minute or two before everyone was alerted to get outside on the decks to see the spectacle at Holkam Bay. The waters are very productive for birds and marine life due to the joining of the Tracy Arm and Endicott Arm fjords. Here the underwater terminal moraine separates the Holkam Bay from the deeper Stephens Passage. My guess is that the eagles were waiting for seals to give birth to pups. The afterbirth provides a needed nutritious supplement. The other possibility is that there is an abundance of schooling fish such as the eulachon or capelin and/or Pollock right now.

We motor south through Stephens Passage to Frederick Sound. I give a marine radio call to the good folks of the Alaska Whale Foundation who are stationed at the Five Fingers Lighthouse. Captain Andy of the Research Vessel Evolution accepts our invitation to come aboard for an evening lecture about his research on the threatened Humpback Whale. He comes aboard with 4 college student research assistants, who join me for dinner before moving up to the top deck. Andy regales us with a fascinating talk on whale ecology. He entertains us with his wit and charm and answers at least a doze questions on his research interests.

 

 

 

Saturday | June 18

Juneau

I update the map and wildlife list for our week-long voyage.  I draw a profile of the intertidal zone (ITZ) on the grease board and have a couple of guests help me look-up a few of the creatures seen during our snorkeling session yesterday.

 

Friday | June 17  

“I DATED YOUR SISTER!”

This is what I jokingly tell my guests on my 2nd small-boat tour after meeting Tongass National Forest wilderness ranger Solan Jensen.  We could see his food hanging in a tree above his camp adjacent to where we drop off guests for a low-tide circumambulation. Solan greets us and introduces us to fellow ranger Iris Neary. I knew Solans’ name had sounded familiar!  I met his sister back in the mid-90’s in Juneau.  We worked for the Glacier Bay Tours and Cruises (bankrupt since 2006) and I have not had the good fortune to work with her since that bygone era.

 

Aleria now works as the NOAA marine mammal stranding coordinator for the Alaska region.  Her brother Solan is an expert naturalist and is working another year as a kayak ranger.  One of our guests recognized Solan as the naturalist he had on a vacation to the Antarctic region years earlier.  During the northern hemisphere winter (Austral summer), Solan works for Quark Expeditions.  Feels like a small world today!

We tour the biologically diverse tide-pools.  Folks are mesmerized watching the standing waves of the outgoing tide that passes through this narrow part of the fiord.

Later we cruise up to the Dawes Glacier, a tide-water glacier that discharges 1000’s of tons of ice each day during calving events.  Harbor seals “surf” the bergs as they are carried away from the 250-foot wall of ice on the outgoing tide.

Thursday | June 16

Red Bluff Bay

Snorkeling Expedition and Cruising for Marine Mammals

An early morning scout in a small boat to the entrance to Red Bluff proves fruitful.  I find two excellent sites to lead my group of snorkelers.  What I look for in a site is an area where tremendous amounts of water cycles by during the ebb and flow of tide-waters.  This is found at the entrance to bays and headlands in larger channels.  One of the exposed rocky reefs is covered with the scrotum-like bodies of bright orange sea anemones.

Back in the ship I help the snorkelers get into their 6 mm wetsuits and ask them to carry boots, gloves, hood, snorkel, mask and fins into the waiting mono-hull. We head to the outside of the bay and land on a Caribbean-like small, white-sand beach! Starfish (not really fish, better to call them sea stars!) are everywhere, exposed by an extremely low tide.

I lead everyone across a small bay through thick kelp forests of Laminaria and Nereocystis to more sheer walls of intertidal goodness.  Every square inch is covered with moving and attached creatures vying for a niche in these biologically productive waters.  I’d have to say, of all the scuba diving and snorkeling I’ve the years in Alaska, this day has to top them all for pure fun.

On our way back to the ship, I ask our driver Jen to pull over toward the shore (where a patch of snow comes down close to waters edge) for a group photo.  Yes, we are all certifiably crazy.

We feel hypo-thermic and take the opportunity to become hyper-thermic in one of our two hot tubs at the stern of the 300-level deck.  Oh, the tingling sensations of capillary re-fill were numbing.

In the afternoon, we enjoy spotting several humpback whales, two of them “logging” at the surface for a mid-day nap.

Dozens of Steller’s Sea Lions swim toward our ship from a haul-out site on the Brothers Islands.  They are very playful and curious and we excited to snap a few pictures of these animals that are Federally listed as “threatened” with extinction.

Wednesday | June 15

Patterson Bay &  Baranof Island

Everybody onboard is excited and express how their vacation has far exceeded their expectations.

Today is a fabulous day for a kayak, and I have the privilege of leading a small group.  There is so much to see and so much to explore in this pristine wilderness area on South Baranof Island.

 

Following are a few notes jotted-down in my “rite-in-the-rain” waterproof journal:  “During the last mile or so of my kayak I was pondering how it is possible that each and every day seems to top the last day in terms of excitement.  I have often heard folks say that they don’t understand how we can possibly have a better day than the day we just had, and yet, invariably, it happens…day, after day, after day.”

“Undoubtedly, each day brings newness and surprises.  Due to the small size of the ship and our collective enthusiasm for being where we are, we have ample opportunities to get to know our fellow travelers.  Stories are swapped in the lounge, at the dinner table, in the hot tubs or out on the viewing decks.  Everybody seems to be relaxed, in a mood for a great time and certainly not caught up with appearances.  Preconceived ideas are dropped from our minds and we allow ourselves to get lost in each and every moment”

“After a certain amount of time hanging-out and getting to know each other, it seems as if we all become exposed to some kind of magic potion that gives us the capacity to be more receptive to the beauty and the power of the place that surrounds us.”

“Certainly we forget unimportant things like what day of the week it is, have little interest in current events in the world and have little time to think about what the boss back home might be thinking.  We let go of all worrisome, nagging doubts and become connected to something greater.  Is it possible that we are absolutely “in the present”?  Have we all arrived at the state-of-being where all that matters is the here and now? I am certain that a significant transformation takes place.”

Tuesday | June 14

Big Port Walter & Baranof Island

Today I have the pleasure of leading a half-day hike in the dazzling rainforest at Lover's Cove in Big Port Walter.

Check out the video below:

Most of the hike is bush-whacking through 5 to 10-foot tall salmon-berry shrubs.  Huge sitka spruce and western hemlock trees towered above us.  Rows of large trees grow on fallen nurse logs as we follow a meandering salmon stream.  

We find fresh bear scat full of teeth and hooves of a sitka black-tailed deer.

People are in a Zen-like state of awe.  While snacking, I address our group of intrepid travelers and say:  “This is it folks…the way the rest of the world used to be.  Prime salmon spawning habitat beneath surrounds us on all sides.  Streams in California used to be chock-full of salmon with grizzly bears feeding on them.  Now the streams are mostly empty and degraded.  The last brown bear in California was shot in 1924.  Extirpated…extinct.”

We have time for a group photo in front of a fallen giant and head back to the shore where a waiting small boat takes us back to the comforts of the “mother ship”.

Tonight we cruise a couple of dozen nautical miles to the north in Chatham Strait to another beautiful fiord.  Guests and crew come out on the decks for the ever-changing scenery and a chance to see wildlife.

The lighting, coupled with the fresh smells and the sounds of waterfalls cascading down the cliffs is very stimulating.  The gentle hum of the engine cruising at 4 to 5-knots is rather soothing.  Coming into a bay or fiord for the first time is sublime.  So new, so fresh…the water looks like oil, especially the reflections of sky and clouds.  The smallest waves create oblong circles reflecting blue sky and streams by like a moving Monet painting.

The songs of the crepuscular animals—the thrushes--serenade us as we move deeper into Patterson Bay to our anchorage.

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