Fox Creek & Inian Islands
From the calm mist of the morning to the wild surge of the afternoon to the silvered light of the evening, water determined today’s experiences. We set ashore this morning in Fox Creek, a salmon stream in Idaho Inlet. Ducking into the woods was like stepping into a world shaded by water—drips and drops and rivulets, the lush mosses of the forest soaked it all up. The streams here were so high that even the salmon were confused. We saw pink salmon not only in the main river, but also in the small, ephemeral tributaries and wondered whether their offspring would be successful when they returned a few years later. Would the stream be high enough? Only time will tell.
A low tide allowed us to poke along, over, and under the rocks of the beach’s intertidal zone. There we uncovered limpets, blennies, nudibranchs, chitons, and a variety of other creatures that live in this space exposed between tides. Once aboard ship, we fired up the microscope and examined both the fine points of the larger organisms and the hidden wonders of small things like a ring of snail eggs laid on a blade of kelp.
After lunch, we moved west to the Inian Islands. While the Sea Bird rested at anchor, we took Zodiacs out through kelp beds and wild currents. Although we hunched from the occasional rain squall and braced ourselves against the waves coming in from Cross Sound, the ride was well worth it. The group of Steller’s sea lions that occupy the rock in Middle Pass were in rare form. While the “sea broke its back” over the rocks (a definition of the word from which this state takes its name), the sea lions surfed the waves, sliding under our boats, twisting their flippers up into the air, and generally giving us a terrifying sense of their power and agility.
Luckily, Alaska gave us a chance to warm up before offering its next “you’ve got to come out and see this!” experience. While we were loading up our plates and glasses before dinner, a group of humpbacks at Point Adolphus surfaced. We stood in the evening’s pewter light, watching them rise and breathe, glad to again have a chance to travel these waters with such amazing creatures.
From the calm mist of the morning to the wild surge of the afternoon to the silvered light of the evening, water determined today’s experiences. We set ashore this morning in Fox Creek, a salmon stream in Idaho Inlet. Ducking into the woods was like stepping into a world shaded by water—drips and drops and rivulets, the lush mosses of the forest soaked it all up. The streams here were so high that even the salmon were confused. We saw pink salmon not only in the main river, but also in the small, ephemeral tributaries and wondered whether their offspring would be successful when they returned a few years later. Would the stream be high enough? Only time will tell.
A low tide allowed us to poke along, over, and under the rocks of the beach’s intertidal zone. There we uncovered limpets, blennies, nudibranchs, chitons, and a variety of other creatures that live in this space exposed between tides. Once aboard ship, we fired up the microscope and examined both the fine points of the larger organisms and the hidden wonders of small things like a ring of snail eggs laid on a blade of kelp.
After lunch, we moved west to the Inian Islands. While the Sea Bird rested at anchor, we took Zodiacs out through kelp beds and wild currents. Although we hunched from the occasional rain squall and braced ourselves against the waves coming in from Cross Sound, the ride was well worth it. The group of Steller’s sea lions that occupy the rock in Middle Pass were in rare form. While the “sea broke its back” over the rocks (a definition of the word from which this state takes its name), the sea lions surfed the waves, sliding under our boats, twisting their flippers up into the air, and generally giving us a terrifying sense of their power and agility.
Luckily, Alaska gave us a chance to warm up before offering its next “you’ve got to come out and see this!” experience. While we were loading up our plates and glasses before dinner, a group of humpbacks at Point Adolphus surfaced. We stood in the evening’s pewter light, watching them rise and breathe, glad to again have a chance to travel these waters with such amazing creatures.
