Dawes Glacier & Ford’s Terror, Endicott Arm
Just before breakfast we approached the Dawes Glacier, enveloped by water, ice, and magnificent cliffs. The ship carefully maneuvered through the sediment-laden fiord known as Endicott Arm, part of the Tracy Arm/Ford’s Terror Wilderness. Floating ice bumped the hull with unsettling clunking noises. The glacier itself appeared to have a dirt road running down the center, but this brown ribbon of debris was simply evidence of a medial moraine fed by two tributary glaciers far above. Zodiacs headed off after breakfast for closer looks at the jagged terminus. Harbor seals swam past the boats, eyeing our every move with curiosity. Other individuals lay scattered like gray sausages in the distance. Ice-blue bergie bits and growlers choked portions of the waterway, but the drivers nimbly picked routes that carried us into more open water near the glacier. Then we waited. Glacier watching takes patience and luck. Fortunately for us, the Dawe’s cooperated and provided some impressive calving events. An immense piece of ice called a shooter broke free underwater and surged up above the surface before rolling to find equilibrium.
By early afternoon the National Geographic Sea Lion had relocated to Ford’s Terror, a finger of water that juts away from the main channel that was filled with ice so long ago. Behind a small bay lies an opening to a hidden fiord, one that is accessible only at ideal times in the tidal cycle. When the tide rushes in or out, the narrow entrance becomes a raging mass of standing waves. We arrived to take advantage of a slack tide, the interval when tidal action pauses briefly before switching directions. The boats worked through the calm of this potentially hazardous site to carry us into the scenic region beyond. Walls of granite and gneiss embraced the blue-green water. Snowfields still linger in the highlands of this enchanted area and along with the rainfall, feed the ever-hungry streams. One waterfall after another delicately dripped or noisily hurled it’s bounty into the sea, endlessly spilling from the cliffs thousands of feet above.
As evening nestled in around us, the ship left the sheltering walls of Endicott Arm. With the ice behind us and Stephens Passage ahead, we forged our way towards Juneau, where we would bid farewell tomorrow and go our separate ways, taking with us vivid memories of bears, whales, and sea lions along with the glacial ice and waterfalls that are such a special part of Southeast Alaska.
Just before breakfast we approached the Dawes Glacier, enveloped by water, ice, and magnificent cliffs. The ship carefully maneuvered through the sediment-laden fiord known as Endicott Arm, part of the Tracy Arm/Ford’s Terror Wilderness. Floating ice bumped the hull with unsettling clunking noises. The glacier itself appeared to have a dirt road running down the center, but this brown ribbon of debris was simply evidence of a medial moraine fed by two tributary glaciers far above. Zodiacs headed off after breakfast for closer looks at the jagged terminus. Harbor seals swam past the boats, eyeing our every move with curiosity. Other individuals lay scattered like gray sausages in the distance. Ice-blue bergie bits and growlers choked portions of the waterway, but the drivers nimbly picked routes that carried us into more open water near the glacier. Then we waited. Glacier watching takes patience and luck. Fortunately for us, the Dawe’s cooperated and provided some impressive calving events. An immense piece of ice called a shooter broke free underwater and surged up above the surface before rolling to find equilibrium.
By early afternoon the National Geographic Sea Lion had relocated to Ford’s Terror, a finger of water that juts away from the main channel that was filled with ice so long ago. Behind a small bay lies an opening to a hidden fiord, one that is accessible only at ideal times in the tidal cycle. When the tide rushes in or out, the narrow entrance becomes a raging mass of standing waves. We arrived to take advantage of a slack tide, the interval when tidal action pauses briefly before switching directions. The boats worked through the calm of this potentially hazardous site to carry us into the scenic region beyond. Walls of granite and gneiss embraced the blue-green water. Snowfields still linger in the highlands of this enchanted area and along with the rainfall, feed the ever-hungry streams. One waterfall after another delicately dripped or noisily hurled it’s bounty into the sea, endlessly spilling from the cliffs thousands of feet above.
As evening nestled in around us, the ship left the sheltering walls of Endicott Arm. With the ice behind us and Stephens Passage ahead, we forged our way towards Juneau, where we would bid farewell tomorrow and go our separate ways, taking with us vivid memories of bears, whales, and sea lions along with the glacial ice and waterfalls that are such a special part of Southeast Alaska.
