Williams Cove
The gentle, warm voice of expedition leader Jen Martin came across the ship’s PA system at 6:50 A.M. on this first day of July, and the first of our week’s trip exploring Southeast Alaska. For those still in bed asleep, it may have seemed like a dream – “brown bear on the beach”- was the waking mantra. “No, we’re not in Houston anymore honey”, could easily have been the words muttered in at least one cabin I know of. It was a wonderful way to greet the day and introduce newcomers to the reality that you really are in the wilds of Alaska. For those who followed Jen’s suggestion and made it outside to the bow of the ship, they were not only treated to a young grizzly browsing on mussels for breakfast, but also to the spout of a humpback whale surfacing nearby. Icebergs decorated this idyllic scene, floating ice sculptures that gave depth to the misty background. Clouds hung low, contrasting puffs of whiteness against the deep, dark greens of the world’s largest temperate rain forest. Through the mist, a flock of 20 or so white-winged scoters staged a fly-by. Yes, we were definitely in a new and mystical place, a wild and serene sort of place that could have just as easily still been a dream.
We were in Williams Cove, a relatively shallow bay, as bays go here, just inside of Holkham Bay. About 50 miles south of Juneau, we exited off of Stephens Passage, and took this on ramp to a place of beauty and peacefulness. After breakfast and getting anchored, not only literally but figuratively as well – we had an orientation to staff, bears, Zodiacs and kayaks – we went ashore for varying lengths of exploratory hikes on bear trails, through boot sucking mud, and into the edge of the forest. Further exploration of the bay, via kayaks or Zodiac tours followed the hikes. We ventured back to the ship for taco soup and tortillas and then on to Tracy Arm and Ford’s Terror Wilderness.
If the morning was calm and serene, the afternoon was dramatic and otherworldly. Floating over 700 foot deep canyons, ephemeral waterfalls too numerous to count cascading down sheer rock walls over 2000’ high, this is a place of creation and glory. The newness, the rawness of this freshly born land is awe-inspiring. 25 miles into the fjord, at the end of the bay sits two glaciers, one to the south and one to the north. Due to ice conditions, we chose the northern route and were rewarded with easy passage to the head of the Sawyer Glacier. Recently born harbor seal pups, some resting aboard icebergs, carelessly rode out the rolling waves of water caused by the calving of the glacier. The thunderous booms of white thunder punctuated our day of memories in this dynamic world of intrigue and inspiration.
