Glacier Bay
We awoke to a brilliant day in Glacier Bay. Even in somber weather, Glacier Bay can be great, but sunny weather adds another layer of wonder. The Fairweather Range, with peaks of up to 15,000 feet, forms a stunning backdrop to the rest of Glacier Bay’s beauty and fascination.
The lower part of Glacier Bay, often overlooked, is packed with life. Before breakfast we saw harbor porpoises, humpback whales, sea otters, puffins and many other seabirds. Soon we reached South Marble Island. This isolated island is abundant with sea lions. Its steep sides are studded with kittiwake nests. Puffins peer from their burrows, and murres stand shoulder to shoulder on rocky ledges. These creatures, all associated with the rugged outer coast, abound in Glacier Bay because of conditions left by the glacier’s recent retreat.
Near Tidal Inlet, open country is just right for brown bears. Bears head for the beach at low tide, and here we found them. A sow was prowling with three tiny cubs. She was busy finding fish, rolling big rocks with impressive ease. The cubs sometimes were able to focus on business, but other times a sense of fun seemed to overwhelm them. At one point they took to galloping along the beach, their mother following in reluctant cooperation. Nearby, another golden brown bear wandered the beach. We wondered what might happen if the bears were to meet.
Just before lunch we rounded a sharp bend and saw the Lamplugh Glacier. This glacier is a tidewater glacier, but only just. High tide might lap its toes. Lamplugh is best known for the meltwater rivers that flow through the center of the ice, carving impressive tunnels.
After lunch we entered Johns Hopkins Inlet. This fjord is long and steep, with several glaciers flowing down its sides. It ends in the mighty Johns Hopkins Glacier. Of more than 10,000 glaciers in Alaska, this is one of only a handful that is advancing. The many icebergs that fall from Johns Hopkins make the fjord one of the most important seal pupping areas in the region; we found the bergs scattered with seals like pepper on rice.
Much of the rest of the day we spent in search of wildlife. Glacier Bay is huge, and there are endless nooks and crannies to explore. All the while, the weather was so fine that many adjourned to deck chairs toward the stern of the ship to bask in the sun.
Eventually we reached Gloomy Knob. This hill of limestone has been scoured by the glaciers, and little vegetation has grown since. Steep and bare, Gloomy Knob is “alpine” right down to tidewater, and is a good place to find mountain goats. We passed the place in the morning, but the goats were so high as to be practically theoretical. Things were different at our return. We found a nannie and kid low on a low promontory. As we approached, the goats clambered right down to the water’s edge! The nannie stepped into a deep crack, perhaps to sip sea water, but the kid couldn’t follow. After scrambling about a bit, it let out a squealing bleat. Immediately its mother reappeared and rushed to its distressed kid. Then together they climbed to a willow thicket, cool and shady, where the nanny began to browse.
During dinner the ship anchored at Bartlett Cove in lower Glacier Bay. Soon we were ashore, walking through Glacier Bay’s oldest forests. Though about 250 years in formation, the forest here is noticeably immature – with limited understory, and spruces only now giving way to shade-tolerant hemlock.
Glacier Bay is an extraordinary place. Its stories are of infinitely varied scale and duration. We were lucky to discover some of them on a superbly beautiful day.
