Dundas Bay to Inian Islands
Those of us responding to our early wakeup call found the Sea Lion in the fog-shrouded Dundas Bay on the outer coast of Glacier Bay National Park. Up until a few days ago, this area was restricted due to the hazard of a jokuhlaups. This is a unique kind of mega-flood that occurs when pent-up glacier meltwater suddenly bursts out in a torrent that can be devastating to anything in its path. Not so on this trip, as we enjoyed complete tranquility in the mist filtered light of early morning. The only thing that burst out was a squadron of red-necked phalaropes patrolling the sea in front of our ship.
After breakfast, we arrived at George Island, which was home to an artillery brigade during World War II. Although the rain forest is gradually eliminating all signs of human occupancy, there are a few relicts remaining. The most impressive is a 6” gun that sits brooding in rust on a bluff overlooking Cross Sound, still waiting to sink any ship that might dare to invade Southeast Alaska by this route. There is also a spruce-lined pit about six feet deep that purportedly was the hiding place of booze illegally obtained by the notorious quartermaster of the camp. In addition to hiking among the ruins, we also kayaked past towering granite cliffs and spotted charismatic species such as a mink running along shore and puffins floating offshore during our Zodiac tours.
The afternoon Zodiac excursion provided another highlight of our trip. Dozens of Sea Lions hauled out on a small rock in the middle of Inian Pass tumbled into the water as we cruised by and vigorously competed for our attention with aquatic and aerial gymnastic displays. One even nibbled on the pontoons of the Zodiac, hoping that it was something good to eat. The spectacular solo sideshow was a very bold sea otter that drifted within a few feet of our watercraft, floating on its back and focusing all of his (or her) attention on consumption of a sea urchin picked up on a dive to the bottom of the channel.
The uninitiated might call the weather of the past couple of days “dreary”. Alaskans refer to it as their “silver skies”, something to be cherished when they travel to other climates--as we all shall when we return from this memorable voyage.
Those of us responding to our early wakeup call found the Sea Lion in the fog-shrouded Dundas Bay on the outer coast of Glacier Bay National Park. Up until a few days ago, this area was restricted due to the hazard of a jokuhlaups. This is a unique kind of mega-flood that occurs when pent-up glacier meltwater suddenly bursts out in a torrent that can be devastating to anything in its path. Not so on this trip, as we enjoyed complete tranquility in the mist filtered light of early morning. The only thing that burst out was a squadron of red-necked phalaropes patrolling the sea in front of our ship.
After breakfast, we arrived at George Island, which was home to an artillery brigade during World War II. Although the rain forest is gradually eliminating all signs of human occupancy, there are a few relicts remaining. The most impressive is a 6” gun that sits brooding in rust on a bluff overlooking Cross Sound, still waiting to sink any ship that might dare to invade Southeast Alaska by this route. There is also a spruce-lined pit about six feet deep that purportedly was the hiding place of booze illegally obtained by the notorious quartermaster of the camp. In addition to hiking among the ruins, we also kayaked past towering granite cliffs and spotted charismatic species such as a mink running along shore and puffins floating offshore during our Zodiac tours.
The afternoon Zodiac excursion provided another highlight of our trip. Dozens of Sea Lions hauled out on a small rock in the middle of Inian Pass tumbled into the water as we cruised by and vigorously competed for our attention with aquatic and aerial gymnastic displays. One even nibbled on the pontoons of the Zodiac, hoping that it was something good to eat. The spectacular solo sideshow was a very bold sea otter that drifted within a few feet of our watercraft, floating on its back and focusing all of his (or her) attention on consumption of a sea urchin picked up on a dive to the bottom of the channel.
The uninitiated might call the weather of the past couple of days “dreary”. Alaskans refer to it as their “silver skies”, something to be cherished when they travel to other climates--as we all shall when we return from this memorable voyage.
