“The further north the [ship] goes, the higher our spirit of adventure rises…Wild Alaska hums with activity and is alive with sound and color…The environment grows younger and fresher with every mile; it seems to generate a sense of anticipation. If there is a place to feel like pioneers, it is Alaska.” Ann and Myron Sutton, The American West
Awe. Joy. Hope. All words to describe our day filled with a combination of action-packed wildlife moments and reflective moments amidst wondrous landscapes as if time stood still.
South Marble Island amazed us shortly after breakfast with large numbers of Steller sea lions, which we could smell and hear before we could see, and with a cornucopia of birds: black-legged kittiwakes, glacous-winged gulls, common murres (penguins of the north!), black oystercatchers, pigeon guillemots, and of course, the prized spectacle of orange-billed miniature dive bombers—the tufted puffins!
The further north we traveled, newer and fresher worlds were revealed to us, as the glacial retreat continuously unveils the landscape, making room for new ecosystems, new life. Life regrows and is reinvented here. There is something new, something old, something giving life, something taking life, always in this timelessly beautiful, kaleidoscopically blue-gray wilderness of Glacier Bay. Amazing to think only 200 years ago these landscapes and seascapes were covered by nearly a mile of ice!
“Bridge, bow—brown and fuzzy 3 o’clock!” Chief mate on watch and naturalists exchange joy and excitement over the hand-held radios as we get closer to the biggest wildlife show of the day—a large brown bear approaching the coast, eyeing the jumping salmon, which are getting ready to go up the stream to spawn. After a bit of scouting, all of a sudden the bear plunged into the water and then stood up on its hind legs in frustration realizing it had still something to learn about how to catch those slippery salmon. The beach seemed a less challenging option, so the bear resumed its search for blennies and crabs under the rocks—at the intertidal food court.
We were still discussing the agility of the brown bear after lunch, as we approached Tarr Inlet to come face to face with Margerie glacier’s craggy ice towers. The glacier thundered and grumbled a little, with the occasional small calving. Shortly after, we stood just a few miles from the face of Johns Hopkins glacier, a healthy growing glacier, and we marveled at the 10,000-foot visibility above the glacier’s tidewater face. The 12,000-foot twin peaks named after the Wright brothers (Orville and Wilbur) were shrouded in the clouds above. Perhaps we would all like to be glaciers in one way or another—and carve out something that will stay and inspire future generations… For now, we end the day full of awe, joy, and hope here in Glacier Bay!
