Cruising Chatham Strait and Pavlov Harbor
Oh my. The morning began quietly enough. We cruised close to the shores of Chichagof Island because the fog was thick over much of Chatham Strait, the west side being the clear side. We were on a mission: to find marine life. However, right before breakfast was announced, a blond brown bear was spotted out on a rocky, blue-mussel-covered promontory. A hushed call over the public address system got everyone out onto the bow, sliding doors were closed silently, and with barely a whisper among us, we watched and paralleled the young bear as he trekked along the beach. He, himself, seemed to have a mission this morning, as he didn’t stop but once or twice to check out and munch quickly some intertidal goodie before continuing to make his way south. A couple of times he broke briefly into a run, as if late for an appointment, but then slowed once again to a fast walk. He must have covered almost a mile before we had to turn out into open water and were distracted by a humpback whale, cruising close to a purse seiner steering circles around salmon, either pinks or chums.
Late morning had us entering Freshwater Bay to peruse the shorelines for other wildlife along the shores, but we ended up instead with three killer whales, dead-heading for the mouth of the bay via a small rocky island with nervous harbor seals hauled out along the edges. We followed, even postponing lunch (thanks to the flexible galley crew on board!) to watch the saga of what might happen next. The three killer whales, which might have been a female with two young of differing ages, indicated they were probably what are known are “transient” killer whales with a penchant for red meat, as opposed to “resident” killer whales who feed mainly on fish. The way they did this was by showing extraordinary interest in the harbor seal colony. They veered in for a good look (perhaps hoping for a surprise seal snack), circled the small island, and then continued on their way. No lunch for the killer whales, apparently. At least not at that moment.
The afternoon was spent with adrenaline pumping as we walked the woods of Pavlov Harbor in the presence of bears. Named originally Gavan Pavlova by Russian explorer Michael Tebenkof, it was used by the Hudson Bay steamer “La Bouchère” for illegal trading with the local indigenous peoples back in the 1860’s. They, in turn, had established a fishing station there, and we understood exactly why, when we visited ourselves. The coho salmon are starting to run the stream up the falls into the lake, and a few get caught by the fish weir at the top of the man-made fish ladder. Three or four times a day they are counted, and then released from the cage to continue their way into the lake and further streams before spawning. We met two of the local fish and game people whose responsibility it is to do these counts over the summer. Their camp is actually floating on Pavlov Lake to keep the bears in the area at bay, but we wondered how effective this strategy was after a few people saw a hairy brown bear head swim the narrow opening of the lake…swimming to OUR side of the lake (but then it disappeared, and we don’t know how). Later it (the entire bear, not just the head) appeared next to the fish ladder, no doubt in hopes of getting a salmon tired from climbing the falls. Kayakers, hikers, Zodiac riders and all had a pretty fabulous day, considering we really didn’t know what to expect when it started.
Oh my. The morning began quietly enough. We cruised close to the shores of Chichagof Island because the fog was thick over much of Chatham Strait, the west side being the clear side. We were on a mission: to find marine life. However, right before breakfast was announced, a blond brown bear was spotted out on a rocky, blue-mussel-covered promontory. A hushed call over the public address system got everyone out onto the bow, sliding doors were closed silently, and with barely a whisper among us, we watched and paralleled the young bear as he trekked along the beach. He, himself, seemed to have a mission this morning, as he didn’t stop but once or twice to check out and munch quickly some intertidal goodie before continuing to make his way south. A couple of times he broke briefly into a run, as if late for an appointment, but then slowed once again to a fast walk. He must have covered almost a mile before we had to turn out into open water and were distracted by a humpback whale, cruising close to a purse seiner steering circles around salmon, either pinks or chums.
Late morning had us entering Freshwater Bay to peruse the shorelines for other wildlife along the shores, but we ended up instead with three killer whales, dead-heading for the mouth of the bay via a small rocky island with nervous harbor seals hauled out along the edges. We followed, even postponing lunch (thanks to the flexible galley crew on board!) to watch the saga of what might happen next. The three killer whales, which might have been a female with two young of differing ages, indicated they were probably what are known are “transient” killer whales with a penchant for red meat, as opposed to “resident” killer whales who feed mainly on fish. The way they did this was by showing extraordinary interest in the harbor seal colony. They veered in for a good look (perhaps hoping for a surprise seal snack), circled the small island, and then continued on their way. No lunch for the killer whales, apparently. At least not at that moment.
The afternoon was spent with adrenaline pumping as we walked the woods of Pavlov Harbor in the presence of bears. Named originally Gavan Pavlova by Russian explorer Michael Tebenkof, it was used by the Hudson Bay steamer “La Bouchère” for illegal trading with the local indigenous peoples back in the 1860’s. They, in turn, had established a fishing station there, and we understood exactly why, when we visited ourselves. The coho salmon are starting to run the stream up the falls into the lake, and a few get caught by the fish weir at the top of the man-made fish ladder. Three or four times a day they are counted, and then released from the cage to continue their way into the lake and further streams before spawning. We met two of the local fish and game people whose responsibility it is to do these counts over the summer. Their camp is actually floating on Pavlov Lake to keep the bears in the area at bay, but we wondered how effective this strategy was after a few people saw a hairy brown bear head swim the narrow opening of the lake…swimming to OUR side of the lake (but then it disappeared, and we don’t know how). Later it (the entire bear, not just the head) appeared next to the fish ladder, no doubt in hopes of getting a salmon tired from climbing the falls. Kayakers, hikers, Zodiac riders and all had a pretty fabulous day, considering we really didn’t know what to expect when it started.
