Pavlof Harbor and Lake Eva, Alaska
One of the things that distinguishes an expedition such as ours from a cruise is our ability to alter plans, deviate from schedule and grasp opportunities as they arise. Last night we departed from Sitka, on the outer coast of Baranof Island, and traveled through narrow Neva, Olga, and Peril Straits to reach Chatham Strait, one of the major waterways of Southeast Alaska. There, acting on a tip from our sister ship, the Sea Bird, our Expedition Leader’s carefully crafted plan for the day was cast aside. We headed north up the coast of Chichagof Island to Freshwater Bay in search of humpback whales – not just any humpback whales, but a special group. We gathered on the bow in ideal, calm, warm weather, steaming cups of coffee in hand. Sure enough, there in front of us, near Pavlof Harbor, was the blow of a whale…and another, and another. And then we saw, in quick succession, the flukes of whales in a tight group, coordinated in time and space, waving in the air as the giant animals dove into the depths. Something special was going on here. We waited and suddenly our whales burst onto the surface, all together, huge mouths agape. We had found a group engaged in cooperative bubble-net feeding. This behavior is used by some groups of humpback whales feeding on small schooling fish like herring or sand lance. The whales descend as a group, find a school of fish, and then swim around the fish releasing a spiral net of bubbles. The fish gather into an ever-tighter school. One of the whales then gives a vocal signal and, as one, the whales rise through the bubble net, each whale engulfing a huge mouthful of water that, hopefully, is full of fish. Over and over the process was repeated. We lowered a hydrophone into the water to eavesdrop on the series of sounds emitted by the lead whale (how this role is assigned or assumed is quite unknown) that means, “OK guys, it’s time to rise. Let’s go!” It was an amazing display of behavior and a most exciting start to our trip.
We continued on, poking the ship into small inlets and scanning the shore in search of wildlife. Once again we were successful. Ahead of us on the beach was a large brown dot accompanied by two smaller brown dots. As we quietly approached, those brown dots morphed into brown bears: a female or sow with two young, yearlings in their second year of life. They retreated into the forest, perhaps spooked by our approach, but then the young reappeared on the beach and we had excellent views of these monarchs of the forest, their presence a reminder of the wildness of Alaska.
Our afternoon was spent at Lake Eva on Baranof Island. Many enjoyed gliding over the water in kayaks, exploring a small lagoon that ends in a stream by which salmon return to freshwater to spawn. We walked along a forest trail, stepping over tracks left by passing bears in the soft mud, and pausing to admire the abundance of mosses, ferns, and small flowering plants. The forest here has particularly large trees of Sitka spruce and western hemlock, their growth fueled by nutrients brought from the sea by the annual return of salmon, and distributed from the stream into the forest by feeding bears, eagles, and other animals feeding at this, the banquet table of the temperate rainforest.
One of the things that distinguishes an expedition such as ours from a cruise is our ability to alter plans, deviate from schedule and grasp opportunities as they arise. Last night we departed from Sitka, on the outer coast of Baranof Island, and traveled through narrow Neva, Olga, and Peril Straits to reach Chatham Strait, one of the major waterways of Southeast Alaska. There, acting on a tip from our sister ship, the Sea Bird, our Expedition Leader’s carefully crafted plan for the day was cast aside. We headed north up the coast of Chichagof Island to Freshwater Bay in search of humpback whales – not just any humpback whales, but a special group. We gathered on the bow in ideal, calm, warm weather, steaming cups of coffee in hand. Sure enough, there in front of us, near Pavlof Harbor, was the blow of a whale…and another, and another. And then we saw, in quick succession, the flukes of whales in a tight group, coordinated in time and space, waving in the air as the giant animals dove into the depths. Something special was going on here. We waited and suddenly our whales burst onto the surface, all together, huge mouths agape. We had found a group engaged in cooperative bubble-net feeding. This behavior is used by some groups of humpback whales feeding on small schooling fish like herring or sand lance. The whales descend as a group, find a school of fish, and then swim around the fish releasing a spiral net of bubbles. The fish gather into an ever-tighter school. One of the whales then gives a vocal signal and, as one, the whales rise through the bubble net, each whale engulfing a huge mouthful of water that, hopefully, is full of fish. Over and over the process was repeated. We lowered a hydrophone into the water to eavesdrop on the series of sounds emitted by the lead whale (how this role is assigned or assumed is quite unknown) that means, “OK guys, it’s time to rise. Let’s go!” It was an amazing display of behavior and a most exciting start to our trip.
We continued on, poking the ship into small inlets and scanning the shore in search of wildlife. Once again we were successful. Ahead of us on the beach was a large brown dot accompanied by two smaller brown dots. As we quietly approached, those brown dots morphed into brown bears: a female or sow with two young, yearlings in their second year of life. They retreated into the forest, perhaps spooked by our approach, but then the young reappeared on the beach and we had excellent views of these monarchs of the forest, their presence a reminder of the wildness of Alaska.
Our afternoon was spent at Lake Eva on Baranof Island. Many enjoyed gliding over the water in kayaks, exploring a small lagoon that ends in a stream by which salmon return to freshwater to spawn. We walked along a forest trail, stepping over tracks left by passing bears in the soft mud, and pausing to admire the abundance of mosses, ferns, and small flowering plants. The forest here has particularly large trees of Sitka spruce and western hemlock, their growth fueled by nutrients brought from the sea by the annual return of salmon, and distributed from the stream into the forest by feeding bears, eagles, and other animals feeding at this, the banquet table of the temperate rainforest.
