Day of the Swimming Bear:
We woke early to liquid sunshine and two new faces on board: Park Ranger Caiti Campbell and Cultural Interpreter Leona Santiago of the Tlingit People had joined us on National Geographic Sea Lion to share the wonders of Glacier Bay National Park. Bundled in rain gear we joined them on deck to watch gulls, puffins and cormorants soar and Steller sea lions battle at South Marble Island. It was a stunning introduction to Glacier Bay.
We made our way North on a waterway, which two hundred years ago was covered by glacier, our spirits lifting with the fog. Stepping out on deck felt like entering a dream, gliding on waters still as a lake, surrounded by steep cliff walls shrouded in mists. At Gloomy Knob we admired mountain goats defying gravity and learned about the newly discovered cold-water coral communities below.
When entering the narrow channel between Russell Island and the eastern Mainland, we noticed a dark shape floating in the waters ahead and immediately tried to figure out what we saw – was it a sea otter? A sea lion? A log? The shape continued to defy definition until super naturalist Lee Moll suddenly yelled “it’s a swimming bear!”
Everyone froze, stood and stared. And suddenly we could see that distinct furry head with fluffy ears on top and a long snout just above the water line. It was a brown bear and it was slowly swimming towards Russell Island.
Once that realization set in, every instinct urged us to scream “IT’S A SWIMMING BEAR!!!” loud enough for all of Glacier Bay to hear. After all, how often do you get to see a swimming bear? Never, that’s how often. If you spot a swimming bear, you want to share that wealth. Thank goodness we’d been well taught in proper bear etiquette, which is “Be quiet as not to disturb the bear”, so we restrained ourselves to furious whispering. Even without sound, news of the swimming bear spread like wildfire through the ship and brought just about everybody out to watch as the bear finished its crossing.
Non-perturbed by its human audience, the bear swam by a floating sea otter, was mobbed by three angry ravens, made its way out of the water and ambled up the shore towards the brush line. Once again everybody onboard wanted to hoot and holler and applaud its valiant effort. Once again, it took every ounce of restraint to keep quiet. Eventually we had to continue on our way north, but as we pulled away, we could still watch the bear walking along the beach on Russell Island.
The following hours passed in a flurry of activity. We stood in awe at Margerie Glacier and admired the colors, shapes and sounds, as she demonstrated her power, calving icebergs. As we had to make our way back south, our young explorers buckled down to earn their Junior Ranger Badge. Everybody marveled at the stunning vistas of Johns Hopkins and Lamplugh Glaciers. An inspired group of young and mature explorers used melted ice to capture the beauty of Glacier Bay in watercolor paintings.
The painting was in full swing, when our creative groove was suddenly interrupted by a loud announcement of “the bear is swimming again!!!”
That news was received just like the boy who cried wolf. Swimming bears are special. You do not encounter them just willy-nilly cruising through Glacier Bay, and certainly not twice the same day. After a round of serious skeptical scoffing, someone finally bothered to look outside and saw something awfully familiar. It was the swimming bear. Again.
He had apparently made his way around Russell Island and found it wanting, so he jumped right back in and was now swimming from Russell Island towards the western Mainland. He looked tiny and just a little lost in the great watery expanse between terra firma, and some of us found ourselves worried whether he could finish his great crossing. At that stage no bear etiquette in the world could keep us from cheering him on loudly until he stepped out of the freezing waters and safely onto dry land.
Our Bridge Team timed the swimming bear and found he spent about an hour to cover about two miles, which means he clocked a speed of two miles per hour. Why he chose to make his journey we will never know. Maybe he was looking for greener pastures. Maybe he was searching for a mate. Some fellow travelers speculated he was training for the Rio Olympics. Whatever his reasons, we feel privileged to have witnessed his quest and hope he’ll thrive in his new habitat.
An extraordinary day ended on a high note with the induction of a team of Junior Rangers, who worked hard to earn their badge. One of them, Ellie Hardegree, summarized Glacier Bay Day in a poem:
Glacier Bay has lots of trees,
Look around and you might see
a bear swimming right past me.
Glacier Bay has sea lions,
Ask me, I’m not lying.
Glacier Bay has lots of birds,
Some dive deep while others leap.
Glacier Bay has Glaciers Galore,
Just watch out they can fall on the floor.
Glacier Bay is the place to be.
Looking for me, you’ll know where I’ll be!
