Fox Creek, Idaho Inlet; Inian Islands & Point Adolphus, Icy Strait
On the still waters of Idaho Inlet we embarked in our rainbow fleet of kayaks, and later, by Zodiac, explored a swift flooding tide, enfolded in fog, surrounded by Steller sea lions – big, robust animals that were as curious about us as we were about them. And finally, we found ourselves surrounded by breaching humpback whales as we steamed east toward Juneau.
The day dawned early and bright, beginning with a pink pastel sky at 3:00am. Not a cloud overhead as we made the short run southeast from Glacier Bay to Shaw Island, in Idaho Inlet. Unlike the State of Idaho, brown with drought, this Idaho belonged to a well-watered rainforest, and wore handsome shades of green. Sunrise brought mirror calm waters, and the trilling of a thousand marbled murrelets. We motored ashore and split into groups, some to hike into the forest to admire bear tracks, others to paddle one final time in kayaks, the highlights of low riding.
Afternoon found us on the edge of Pacific fog, with cloudfalls spilling over the Inian Islands. Long white tendrils of moist air raced through the treetops. We loaded into the Zodiacs and zipped into the weather – first whitecaps, then a vortex of tidal currents – to reach a small islet that belonged to a rowdy bunch of bachelor Steller sea lion bulls. In prides of ten and twenty they swarmed our Zodiacs, their bear-like heads gleaming wet, their watchful eyes above long elegant whiskers. As we left, they returned to their feasting, sustained by tides of salmon.
Humpback whales awaited us at Point Adolphus as we prepared for Captain’s Farewell cocktail hour. Drinks in hand, we watched them breach and blow. One whale slapped its tail more than seventy times. Why? We may never know.
John Steinbeck said that you don’t take a trip, a trip takes you. He was right.
On the still waters of Idaho Inlet we embarked in our rainbow fleet of kayaks, and later, by Zodiac, explored a swift flooding tide, enfolded in fog, surrounded by Steller sea lions – big, robust animals that were as curious about us as we were about them. And finally, we found ourselves surrounded by breaching humpback whales as we steamed east toward Juneau.
The day dawned early and bright, beginning with a pink pastel sky at 3:00am. Not a cloud overhead as we made the short run southeast from Glacier Bay to Shaw Island, in Idaho Inlet. Unlike the State of Idaho, brown with drought, this Idaho belonged to a well-watered rainforest, and wore handsome shades of green. Sunrise brought mirror calm waters, and the trilling of a thousand marbled murrelets. We motored ashore and split into groups, some to hike into the forest to admire bear tracks, others to paddle one final time in kayaks, the highlights of low riding.
Afternoon found us on the edge of Pacific fog, with cloudfalls spilling over the Inian Islands. Long white tendrils of moist air raced through the treetops. We loaded into the Zodiacs and zipped into the weather – first whitecaps, then a vortex of tidal currents – to reach a small islet that belonged to a rowdy bunch of bachelor Steller sea lion bulls. In prides of ten and twenty they swarmed our Zodiacs, their bear-like heads gleaming wet, their watchful eyes above long elegant whiskers. As we left, they returned to their feasting, sustained by tides of salmon.
Humpback whales awaited us at Point Adolphus as we prepared for Captain’s Farewell cocktail hour. Drinks in hand, we watched them breach and blow. One whale slapped its tail more than seventy times. Why? We may never know.
John Steinbeck said that you don’t take a trip, a trip takes you. He was right.
