Pavlof Harbor, Iyoukeen Cove and Chatham Strait
After leaving Glacier Bay last night we turned south down Icy Strait, skirting the northeastern coast of Chichagof Island, until we came to Pavlof Harbor, both named by early Russian explorers. Our intrepid naturalists went ashore early and came back breathless: “Bears at the falls!” In less than 10 minutes we had everyone into either a fleet of kayaks, a couple of Zodiacs or a pair of boots, and were moving cautiously to the head of the creek. Here a stunning scene awaited, classic Alaska: rushing rapids with salmon splashing in the riffles, and striding among them like kings at a banquet were the brown bears. On the salmon-splashed terraces was a female with two second-summer cubs, and a larger female sat on a polished rock dining table splattered with the remains of several fish suppers. She squatted on her haunches at the base of the falls where salmon were jostling for the high jump. After staring intently for several minutes, she pounced, to emerge, dripping, with a male humpback salmon twisting in her jaws. Huge claws pinned its head as she bit into the rich red back muscles. The female with cubs meanwhile was more choosy: she caught and discarded several male salmon until she had hooked one of the slimmer, female fish. These contain a richer feast: thousands of bright orange eggs, ready for spawning in the shallow gravel bars further upstream. It was a scene as old as time, the river, the forest, the bears and the salmon. Our video chronicler, Kirk, captured the whole spectacle on film for us all, as the above picture shows.
Still stunned by the excitement of our bear encounter, we rejoined the Sea Lion and moved south to Iyoukeen Cove where Tormod, our second mate, had spotted distant whale blows. But this was no ordinary group of leisurely feeding whales. We had chanced upon one of the greatest spectacles in Alaska, a group of bubblenet feeding whales. As we watched, the whales bunched close to the shore where they had located a shoal of herring, then in carefully choreographed sequence, raised tails to dive deep. Larry Hobbs, our whale wizard, knew exactly what to expect and lowered a hydrophone into the water. “Listen!”, he hushed: and we could hear a shrill tremolo, rising in pitch, which stopped abruptly. “Now watch the gulls!” 30 seconds later, the birds swooped down towards the sea, as the surface erupted with a dozen huge, black, gaping whale maws. This is a feeding technique unique to the Pacific northwest: a practiced team of adult whales collaborate to corral, spook and drive herring into a rising spiral of blown bubbles, until they punch through the trapped shoal of fish to gorge in unison. An incredible end to an unforgettable day, out here in the wonderful wilds of Chatham Strait, southeast Alaska.
After leaving Glacier Bay last night we turned south down Icy Strait, skirting the northeastern coast of Chichagof Island, until we came to Pavlof Harbor, both named by early Russian explorers. Our intrepid naturalists went ashore early and came back breathless: “Bears at the falls!” In less than 10 minutes we had everyone into either a fleet of kayaks, a couple of Zodiacs or a pair of boots, and were moving cautiously to the head of the creek. Here a stunning scene awaited, classic Alaska: rushing rapids with salmon splashing in the riffles, and striding among them like kings at a banquet were the brown bears. On the salmon-splashed terraces was a female with two second-summer cubs, and a larger female sat on a polished rock dining table splattered with the remains of several fish suppers. She squatted on her haunches at the base of the falls where salmon were jostling for the high jump. After staring intently for several minutes, she pounced, to emerge, dripping, with a male humpback salmon twisting in her jaws. Huge claws pinned its head as she bit into the rich red back muscles. The female with cubs meanwhile was more choosy: she caught and discarded several male salmon until she had hooked one of the slimmer, female fish. These contain a richer feast: thousands of bright orange eggs, ready for spawning in the shallow gravel bars further upstream. It was a scene as old as time, the river, the forest, the bears and the salmon. Our video chronicler, Kirk, captured the whole spectacle on film for us all, as the above picture shows.
Still stunned by the excitement of our bear encounter, we rejoined the Sea Lion and moved south to Iyoukeen Cove where Tormod, our second mate, had spotted distant whale blows. But this was no ordinary group of leisurely feeding whales. We had chanced upon one of the greatest spectacles in Alaska, a group of bubblenet feeding whales. As we watched, the whales bunched close to the shore where they had located a shoal of herring, then in carefully choreographed sequence, raised tails to dive deep. Larry Hobbs, our whale wizard, knew exactly what to expect and lowered a hydrophone into the water. “Listen!”, he hushed: and we could hear a shrill tremolo, rising in pitch, which stopped abruptly. “Now watch the gulls!” 30 seconds later, the birds swooped down towards the sea, as the surface erupted with a dozen huge, black, gaping whale maws. This is a feeding technique unique to the Pacific northwest: a practiced team of adult whales collaborate to corral, spook and drive herring into a rising spiral of blown bubbles, until they punch through the trapped shoal of fish to gorge in unison. An incredible end to an unforgettable day, out here in the wonderful wilds of Chatham Strait, southeast Alaska.
