Glacier Bay National Park
Our day in Glacier Bay starts in a way that tells us this is going to be something special. For one thing, the sun rises long before we wake up, on this, the longest day of the year. And it is sunny! High jagged snowy peaks are visible all around us as we cruise to our first destination, the small rocky island called South Marble. The closer we get the harder it is to decide where to direct our attention. Steller Sea Lions are lying all over the rocks, lazing about in the day’s growing warmth, talking amongst themselves in their groaning sea lion voices, taking naps. Every ledge of the cliffs seems to hold a pair of nesting birds, kittiwakes and glaucous-winged gulls. The water’s surface all around us is dotted with alcids and diving ducks: common murres, marbled murrelets, pigeon guillemots, tufted puffins, and finally – for those eager birders – a horned puffin. We get a chuckle at the expense of a couple of puffins that churn their way across the water’s surface, running with their feet and stroking with their wings, not quite taking off. A couple of bald eagles are perched in small trees at the top of the island, watching it all. As far as we can tell, they don’t laugh.
When we come back inside, our Park Ranger Emily says: “do you think it is possible to come home to a place you have never been?” It is just one of many questions we will ask ourselves today, for this is a place that makes one ponder. It is so vast, and so beautiful, and so dynamic, that it stretches our abilities to take it all in.
On this day, in this place, it is pleasure to imagine being one of the animals that lives in Glacier Bay. Perhaps that otter swimming by on its back, with a big otter baby clasped to its chest. Or the goats we see next, resting on the grassy shelves of Gloomy Knob, which isn’t so gloomy today. Certainly that mother brown bear, trailing three small cubs. Or the big blond beauty of a bear turning over rocks at the tide line. Perhaps the humpback whale that spouts in the distance, or the arctic terns perched on a small piece of ice. Like them, we think, we could be strong and able in this place, survivors born of an unbroken line of ancestors that stretch back for generations.
Speaking of which, we next hear from Faith, our Cultural Expert who, like Emily, is onboard for this whole day we are in the Park. She is a local in the most profound sense of the word: her people, she tells us, have lived here for thousands of years, coming and going as ice advanced and retreated. We have a lot of questions. As the day unfolds, we learn from her about traditional ways of living here, and about her modern life too. She offers to teach us a little Tlingit language, ways to say thank you, and ways to express our enthusiasm, appreciation, joy.
We will need all that and more to get through the afternoon. Margerie glacier puts on the best show of her life, calving huge pillars and spires and walls and towers of ice. We are a half mile away, but the face of the glacier looks huge, and the waves that reach us after a football-stadium sized piece breaks off are enough to rock our ship. A shout goes up each time ice falls, and a chorus of women celebrate in the Tlingit style: “wheeeeee!”
The afternoon ends with our Junior Rangers making presentations and earning their badges, and with final thoughts from our Rangers. By the time Emily plays her violin for us, there are a lot of shiny eyes in the room. Upon arrival to the Glacier Bay Lodge, the guests went out on various walks while two lovebirds snuck out trailed by 2 witnesses and the honorable Larry Hobbs. They walked out onto a beautiful seaside point, and with the orange sun setting, the two lovebirds said “I Do.”
