Chatham Strait, Kelp Bay and Pond Island
No doubt about it, we aren’t in Kansas anymore! By 10:30 in the morning we’d been swooped upon by two stately bald eagles flying in tandem, delighted by a rushing waterfall, and thrilled by nearly two hours of bubble-net feeding humpback whales. The naturalists lowered a hydrophone and we eavesdropped on our cetacean friends below. Again and again we watched – and listened – as a dozen whales performed a synchronous dive followed by a couple minutes of silence. Then came a “summoning” call while one whale (we’ll call him “Gabriele”) hit a high note and suddenly, whoosh, they all erupted to the surface with mouths agape, swallowing hundreds of fish. We weren’t sure which was a more feverish pitch, the call of the whale or the whir of our cameras. By the time we left, our day was already full, yet it wasn’t even time yet for the usual morning office coffee break.
Our geologist, Dr. Harold Stowell, had a tough act to follow, but he persevered nicely to explain plate tectonics, oceans and mountain ranges as they related to our travels.
After lunch, we had our first chance to put on those rubber boots that Alaskans call “Ketchikan tennis shoes” or “Sitka slippers.” They felt funny but worked well on the rocky shore and muddy trail on Pond Island, inside Kelp Bay. The trail was an exercise in over-the-log, around-the-tree, and through-the-woods hiking, laced in layers of green. At the end, we marveled at the craftsmanship of a beaver dam, and a lodge in the middle of a pond. Others took to the kayaks, sleek sea-going vessels, smooth and flat and relatively easy to paddle. They afforded us excellent views of the water below and the shore nearby.
Last but not least, back on board we enjoyed a “taste of Alaska,” the option to sample some local homemade treasures such as caribou sausage, kelp pickles, and salmon caviar.
No doubt about it, we aren’t in Kansas anymore! By 10:30 in the morning we’d been swooped upon by two stately bald eagles flying in tandem, delighted by a rushing waterfall, and thrilled by nearly two hours of bubble-net feeding humpback whales. The naturalists lowered a hydrophone and we eavesdropped on our cetacean friends below. Again and again we watched – and listened – as a dozen whales performed a synchronous dive followed by a couple minutes of silence. Then came a “summoning” call while one whale (we’ll call him “Gabriele”) hit a high note and suddenly, whoosh, they all erupted to the surface with mouths agape, swallowing hundreds of fish. We weren’t sure which was a more feverish pitch, the call of the whale or the whir of our cameras. By the time we left, our day was already full, yet it wasn’t even time yet for the usual morning office coffee break.
Our geologist, Dr. Harold Stowell, had a tough act to follow, but he persevered nicely to explain plate tectonics, oceans and mountain ranges as they related to our travels.
After lunch, we had our first chance to put on those rubber boots that Alaskans call “Ketchikan tennis shoes” or “Sitka slippers.” They felt funny but worked well on the rocky shore and muddy trail on Pond Island, inside Kelp Bay. The trail was an exercise in over-the-log, around-the-tree, and through-the-woods hiking, laced in layers of green. At the end, we marveled at the craftsmanship of a beaver dam, and a lodge in the middle of a pond. Others took to the kayaks, sleek sea-going vessels, smooth and flat and relatively easy to paddle. They afforded us excellent views of the water below and the shore nearby.
Last but not least, back on board we enjoyed a “taste of Alaska,” the option to sample some local homemade treasures such as caribou sausage, kelp pickles, and salmon caviar.
