From Sitka, Alaska, we headed to Ketchikan just in time to celebrate Independence Day.  

The town was preparing for their big July 4 parade. It would have been fun to join them, but our destination was the Tatoosh Islands for some kayaking.

What a beautiful place to kayak, and the weather was perfect. Well, it started out with a hint of rain, as always, but by the time we got in the tandem kayaks the sun was fully shining. The water was surprisingly clear, too, and that meant we could see sea stars, jellyfish, and other marine life pretty well. Above is a Purple Ochre Sea Star, a keystone species. It helps encourage marine life diversity by controlling populations of the Common Mussel.

This baby Harbor seal popped its head up as we headed through a mini channel between rocks. A bald eagle stood watch from a rock near one of the Tatoosh Islands. It truly is a majestic bird and quite big — an adult can weigh up to 14 pounds.  Bald eagles are stubborn birds. If they catch a fish too heavy to fly with, rather than drop it they’ll swim along awkwardly with their wings serving as paddles. Our final cruise stop was Victoria, British Columbia — a brief visit to Canada. I’d heard how beautiful this city is, but I’ll have to visit another time to truly see it. Our families voted to go look for killer whales, and so it was back to the ocean for us again. While boarding the tour boat, these Canada Geese swam over for a hello. It was nice getting to see Canada Geese while actually in Canada.

The waters near Vancouver Island are home to many killer whales, all 3 primary types. Resident pods specialize in fish, typically salmon. Offshore killer whales hunt large oceanic fish and sharks. Transient orcas are the mammal hunters, looking for seals, sea lions, porpoises, dolphins, and whales. The three groups don’t intermix and they have different communication signals.

We watched a small family of resident orcas. They were very focused on foraging for fish in the kelp-heavy waters. The killer whales were remarkably calm in their approach to getting food — swimming at easy speeds and occasionally curving into a deeper dive.
Who would have thought watching killer whales would prove to be a relaxing activity?

A beautiful sunset brought closure to our cruise. The next day, we spent a remaining tourist day in Seattle with our larger family group, and the boys and I prepped for the camping leg of our journey.

After Glacier Bay, our next Alaskan stop was Sitka, a very quaint fishing town. Originally settled by the Tlinget people, there was also a period of time in which Sitka was the capital of Russian America. After the United States purchased Alaska from Russia in 1867, the formal transfer and flag raising took place in Sitka. Lots of history to the town!

It was raining when we first arrived, but it didn’t affect how scenic the setting was. Foxgloves and other flowers added beautiful color, and many salmonberry shrubs offered plentiful fruit. The greenery surrounding us was enhanced by the dampness.

In Sitka, cedar totem poles record history or illustrate ancestry, folklore, or events of Southeast Alaskan native peoples. We found many of these along the Totem Walk at Sitka National Historical Park, a short distance from the center of town. Part of a coastal rainforest and filled with tall Sitka Spruce, the park also preserves the battlefield location of the 1804 Battle of Sitka, the last major armed battle between the Tlingit and Russians.

Though each totem pole is unique, the sculptures might use common symbols. One symbol found on many Tlingit totems is that of the Raven, an important spirit in Tlingit culture. The Raven is considered both a cultural benefactor and a trickster.

Thanks to the morning rain, large banana slugs found easy passage across the paths. Their slow pace make them pleasant photo subjects. This one was about 6 inches long.

On our way back, I found this beautiful eagle feather on the path. I took a picture of it before taking it into the visitor center to give to a park ranger (it’s illegal to keep such feathers unless you have a permit or are culturally exempt — I didn’t want someone else to pick it up and get in big trouble for having it). Then I promptly washed my hands, which I would have done anyway, but the park ranger stressed that eagles carry all sorts of yucky stuff they can spread. I noted that she didn’t hurry to wash her hands after taking the feather to the back room, however. I preferred to stay salmonella- and mite-free.

After seeing so many ravens depicted on totem poles at the park, I was amused that on our walk back into the main part of Sitka, several ravens greeted us with loud caws.

A landmark structure in Sitka is the Russian Orthodox Cathedral, rebuilt after a 1966 fire. See the two bald eagles hanging out on top?

I greatly admired this gray stone wall surrounding another church. At a modest height, the jagged top offers a slight deterrence to those who might climb over, while giving a unique quality to the perimeter.

We were amused at this intersection’s sign, bringing together the names of two of historic rivals. However, it’s likely that the Jeff Davis they are referring to is not the Confederate president but the first commander of the Department of Alaska, since he played a role in Sitka’s history. I don’t know whether Lincoln refers to the great Abe himself, but I’ll go with that.

Taking a boat in Sitka Sound, we enjoyed plentiful wildlife, and by this time the rain had ceased completely. Above is a friendly, well-known humpback whale named Domino.
Here’s what is known as a whale footprint, a slick spot that forms as a whale thrusts its fluke up and down underwater. Not only does Domino have distinct black spots on his fluke, the growth of barnacles at the tips is an additional identification mark for this handsome whale.
Near these tiny islands, mere rock outcrops, a large group of harbor seals basked, played, and fed.

There were a great number of bald eagles, almost every direction we turned.

This group of scoters included White-winged and Surf Scoters. We also saw lots of Marbled Murrelets and, of course, gulls.

The surrounding forested mountains were quite beautiful, with waterfalls cascading here and there.

Near this river’s mouth, salmon were practicing their jumps, almost ready to spawn.

A hungry harbor seal was clever enough to take advantage of the presence of so many fish.

A lone Sitka Black-tailed deer fed on a nearby shore.I can probably safely say, however, that despite the large variety of wildlife we saw in Sitka, our family enjoyed the sea otters most of all (though for some reason that harbor seal going after the jumping salmon still stays on my mind). They’d roll and preen and dive and eat, and they’d preen some more. I’m so happy their numbers have been going up — they were hunted almost to extinction by fur traders. Sea otters are still listed as endangered, however. Sea otters are a keynote species, keeping the population of sea urchins and other kelp-eaters under control and thus protecting the habitat that provides shelter and food for so many other marine animals.

The next stop on our journey was Ketchikan for some kayaking, followed by Victoria for some orca sightings. I’ll combine the two — far fewer pictures to share, as it’s hard to take a lot of pictures while kayaking!

After Juneau, our ship took us to Glacier Bay, an area that just 250 years ago was all glacier and no bay.

The massive river of ice reached its maximum extent by 1750, gouging the land as it moved along, and within 45 years it had melted back 5 miles, creating Glacier Bay. The glacier continued to retreat north, and what remain (now 65 miles into the bay) are several smaller tidewater glaciers flowing from mountain to sea.

The bay itself is filled with cold, nutrient-rich water and abundant marine life. Surrounding it are young forests, able to grow with the departure of massive ice, though of course pockets remain even throughout summer.

The bay’s tidewater glaciers are accessible only by plane or boat. Perhaps the most impressive is Margerie Glacier, seen in this panoramic image from my husband (click to enlarge). This glacier is about 1-mile wide, 21-miles long, and at its face 250 feet above the water (another 100 feet of the glacier extends down into the water). The glacier flows into the Tarr Inlet of the West Arm of the bay.

In areas of pure compressed snow and ice, the result was a breathtaking blue color that I couldn’t get enough of.

I also loved the jagged ice peaks, an effective contrast to the soothing colors.

Such jaggedness is not something one usually pictures when glaciers are typically described as slow moving rivers of ice. But there they are, formed as the ice fractures time and again.

As much as I loved the blue, even the patterns of debris-rich ice were beautiful.

Calving is the sudden breaking away of ice from a glacier, forming icebergs and the like. Margerie Glacier calves actively all year long. Sometimes, falling ice might simply be small chunks, and by that I mean ones the size of Volkswagon Beetles or school buses.

This larger chunk, on the other hand, was about 80 feet tall, the size of an 8-story building. Large ice sections produced massive splash and impressive waves.

Here’s the full sequence of shots as the chunk fell away.

I wish I could have added in sound effects. Cracking sounds, teasers of potential calving, are like rifle shots — loud and crisp. But an actual fall of ice is a thunderous roar combined with loud splashing and waves.

Where the glacier dropped ice with a big splash and also where the propellers from our ship churned up water, sea gulls, like this Glaucous-winged Gull, flocked to take advantage of the disturbed fish and other marine life coming closer to the surface. Note the gray wing tips and orange feet as it flies.

The Black-legged Kittiwake, on the other hand, has black wingtips and, of course, black legs. Many Kittiwakes joined their gray-tipped gull cousins as they foraged the cold waters for food.

In down time, the gulls rested on the floating ice chunks and preened their feathers. They are able to do this without frostbite to their feet, thanks to a remarkable circulatory arrangement, called a countercurrent heat exchange system, which minimizes temperature differences between the feet and the ice. The arteries and veins in the birds’ legs and feet are very near each other. This means that arterial blood from the body’s core is already cooled by the time it reaches the feet, while cooler veins are warmed by the arterial blood before it returns into the body. Pretty cool, eh — literally and figuratively.

As we headed to other glaciers, we spotted this Grizzly Bear walking up a hill. From the ship, it was a mere dot and almost impossible to see without a zoom lens or binoculars.

Lamplugh Glacier, 8-miles long and about 3/4-mile wide, is another glacier in the West Arm of the bay.

It had a large glacial cave, fascinating and beautiful in its own right.

Inside the cave, melting ice flowing through cracks in the glacier created a fast-flowing stream.

Another beauty was Reid Glacier, also found on the western arm of the bay.

I’m very grateful for the chance to see these amazing glaciers, as 95 percent of the 100,000 glaciers found in Alaska are actively thinning or retreating at unprecedented rates due to climate change. I wonder whether Alaska’s glaciers will even exist a few decades from now.

The remainder of the day and evening we traveled toward Sitka, our next port stop.

Two and half weeks of vacation. Zero caffeine. Success.

The family and I just got back from a two-part summer vacation. During the first week, we enjoyed a pleasant Alaskan cruise with my husband’s family. The boys and I then extended our fun by traveling and camping along the Pacific Coast from Washington to Oregon to California, then back again.

Our journey began in Seattle, but I’ll focus on that in a later post. Our first Alaskan destination was Juneau. Though the captain promised sunshine and warm weather, we arrived to find rain, fog, heavy clouds, and cool temperatures.

In fact, fog became the norm for our vacation, so much so that it became downright amusing. But that’s to be expected of the Pacific Coast in July.

Fireweed

At least I can say that the worst of the rain for the whole vacation happened on this day in Juneau for us. And by that, I mean it poured substantially the whole day. My hiking boots took 3 days to dry out.

Because our helicopter flight was cancelled due to the poor weather, we instead visited Mendenhall Glacier and went whale watching in Auke Bay. Whales and glaciers don’t mind the rain!

Mendenhall is a 12-mile long glacier that extends from the Juneau Icefield. Nearby are the powerful Nugget Falls. My son and I got fully soaked right down to our toes during our hike to the falls, but it was worth it.

The real cold and wet fun came when we went whale watching in Auke Bay. Several humpback whales were in sight. These three stayed close together, feeding and taking breaths in near sync.

A visible fluke indicates that a whale is diving deeper into the water and likely will stay down for a few minutes.

Across the bay, a solitary humpback breached several times. Oh how we wished our boat had been closer!Even across the bay, the sight was thrilling.

On the way back, our boat passed a channel marker that serves as a popular resting spot for bossy Stellar Sea Lion juveniles. The sea lion in the water kept trying to get on the platform, but those already on top kept pushing him back off.

Though our plans for the day had to be modified because of the weather, we still had a great time. Next up, glacier calving!