Fox Creek and the Inian Islands
We accept the fog in the morning. We accept the cool day and zero wind, and the slowly moving ship, quietly making its way into Idaho Inlet. Every so often the water explodes: a pair of small marbled murrelets takes off and flies away in a hurry. Or some other small water bird such as a pigeon guillemot or a small group of phalaropes appear out of the fog. And then! Yes, we slowly approach a sea otter, drifting in the calm waters near Icy Strait, looking at us and then diving down in search of food. Out of view!
Eventually we anchor off Fox Creek, where we have difficulties finding the correct landing site in the mist, and the beach already occupied by a small flock of Bonaparte’s and glaucous-winged gulls. They fly. As we land we begin the day's adventures: hikes up into the Sitka spruce and western hemlock forest, and into the adjacent bogs; walks along the shallow river to see desperate salmon swimming and pushing against the so-shallow waters, upstream to their spawning place, to send their genes into the future.
After lunch we sailed further west into the open-ocean limits of the Inian Islands, where, in quiet Zodiacs, we slowly approached sea otters busily eating sea urchins to fuel their high metabolism. They rolled and spun their bodes to wash away inedible shells and to fluff their incredible fur, which sports up to a million fine hairs per square inch. The fur is what fends off the cold. We moved seaward to the last small island in the group where a powerful animal-smell assailed our noses: the rookery of hundreds of Steller’s sea lions, those monsters so agile and playful. They have a charisma that makes one want to spend hour after hour watching them. A continuous grumble assailed our ears. Curious individuals swam near us. Others caught large salmon, surfaced and thrashed them violently, tearing, shaking and whipping them into bite-sized pieces. Down the hatch! Whatever was left was instantly snatched up by the many gulls attracted to the frenzy.
Our day ended with a pleasant visit to an old homestead and museum on Lemesurier Island. The history of a well-respected pioneer couple is preserved here.
Yes, it drizzled on us all day, on land and on the sea, but we considered it a very small price to pay for the pleasures offered us by Southeast Alaska.
We accept the fog in the morning. We accept the cool day and zero wind, and the slowly moving ship, quietly making its way into Idaho Inlet. Every so often the water explodes: a pair of small marbled murrelets takes off and flies away in a hurry. Or some other small water bird such as a pigeon guillemot or a small group of phalaropes appear out of the fog. And then! Yes, we slowly approach a sea otter, drifting in the calm waters near Icy Strait, looking at us and then diving down in search of food. Out of view!
Eventually we anchor off Fox Creek, where we have difficulties finding the correct landing site in the mist, and the beach already occupied by a small flock of Bonaparte’s and glaucous-winged gulls. They fly. As we land we begin the day's adventures: hikes up into the Sitka spruce and western hemlock forest, and into the adjacent bogs; walks along the shallow river to see desperate salmon swimming and pushing against the so-shallow waters, upstream to their spawning place, to send their genes into the future.
After lunch we sailed further west into the open-ocean limits of the Inian Islands, where, in quiet Zodiacs, we slowly approached sea otters busily eating sea urchins to fuel their high metabolism. They rolled and spun their bodes to wash away inedible shells and to fluff their incredible fur, which sports up to a million fine hairs per square inch. The fur is what fends off the cold. We moved seaward to the last small island in the group where a powerful animal-smell assailed our noses: the rookery of hundreds of Steller’s sea lions, those monsters so agile and playful. They have a charisma that makes one want to spend hour after hour watching them. A continuous grumble assailed our ears. Curious individuals swam near us. Others caught large salmon, surfaced and thrashed them violently, tearing, shaking and whipping them into bite-sized pieces. Down the hatch! Whatever was left was instantly snatched up by the many gulls attracted to the frenzy.
Our day ended with a pleasant visit to an old homestead and museum on Lemesurier Island. The history of a well-respected pioneer couple is preserved here.
Yes, it drizzled on us all day, on land and on the sea, but we considered it a very small price to pay for the pleasures offered us by Southeast Alaska.
