The streak is over! Fifty one games with a hit may never be beaten, but ten days of totally blue skies in Southeast Alaska is nothing to scoff at. On the last boat operation of the voyage, we finally appreciated our luggage-stuffing rain gear and cabin-hogging rubber boots. Clad in all our synthetic gear, we suddenly feel that all the overweight luggage has been justified as we headed out to explore the Inian Islands of Cross Sound.
Being the northern entrance to the Inside Passage, Cross Sound receives the full exposure and fertilization of the Gulf of Alaska. Our presence this morning was not by coincidence. The National Geographic Sea Bird is not the only one to know that Cross Sounds is an exciting place. After dropping our fleet of small black boats, we embarked on an exploration of this small archipelago. Beating against a steady mist of unfamiliar rain, we headed out in search of predators both small and large. Tufted puffins, humpback whales, and Northern sea lions are all here because of one thing: food.
While some were laughing and enjoying the antics of our flexible pinniped friends, undersea specialist Ian and I went on a special dive in search of submarine quarry. Because so much water funnels through Cross Sound, the currents can be extraordinarily strong in this small area, yet during the narrow slack tide window, the water calms and is safe enough for ungainly, lanky humans to splash down. Ian brought an HD underwater camera along to document the marine life at our dive site, Pteropod Rocks, to share with our guests later in the evening. This site has only been dove once before simply because it’s so difficult to find the time during a slack tide, but today was the day.
Splash-down brought us face-to-face with a world alien to most. Orange soft corals adorned with off-white basket stars speckled the rock reef below 50 feet. As we intently inspected every nudibranch and anemone, curious Northern sea lions peered over our shoulders, giving us a humorous fright. Although MASSIVE, these sea lions rarely stick around for longer than a minute as we must seem like very boring bubble blowers.
It’s fitting that the rain came on our last day since we will remember it with the most revelry. Our favorite operation with the most charismatic of animals took place under quintessential weather. Southeast Alaska is not blue skies. It is not sunscreen and rosy cheeks. It’s not flip-flops and shorts. Southeast Alaska is rain slicks and Xtra-Tuf boots. Baseball caps and sunglasses. Dry suits and smiles.
