When a full day of traveling by ship is planned, it’s usually called a “sea day” and is generally spent away from and out of sight of land. Fortunately for us, the only full sea day on our southbound itinerary is spent cruising along the Inside Passage of British Columbia. A good day to grab a nap, edit some photos, fill in some post cards, and of course, see a black bear.
As the National Geographic Sea Lion passed Butedale in the morning, all eyes were fixed on the shorelines, searching for a spirit bear - a rare and elusive white colored black bear that is known to inhabit these parts. While we didn’t find the spirit bear, we did receive a warm greeting from the local caretaker, accompanied by his dog and cat. Cory is a bit of a mystery, as he lives in the ruins of Butedale, a crumbling assortment of old buildings that once was a bustling salmon cannery. Occasionally, a passing boat stops for a visit, but today we are on a mission.
The rain showers came in such short episodes that the deck doors were sometimes jammed with a parade of guests, some heading outside because they noticed the rain had stopped, only to find themselves holding the door for the guests heading inside because it had started to rain again. No matter, as the wildlife seems to go about their daily routine in either case. Belted kingfishers, red-necked grebes, gulls, loons and bald eagles all were easily spotted from the bow, as were a surprising number of humpback whales. One humpback startled the bridge crew when it breached just a few yards off the port beam.
The highlight of the morning was the spotting of a big ol’ black bear right at the water’s edge. Within minutes, he disappeared into the thick brush with a fish in his jaws, disappointing those of us who really wanted a better look. As if hearing our wish, the bear re-appeared a moment later in a small clearing at our eye level, munching on his breakfast. Eventually, he looked up, staring at us staring at him. The sound of camera shutters and whispered “oohs!” joined the raspy clack of a Steller’s jay that was supervising the entire operation from higher up the hill. With his breakfast consumed, the bear lost interest and just moseyed up the hill, vanishing in to the greenery.
The pace of our trip has slowed, and a sea day leaves time for reflection on the last two weeks. We avoid the chore of packing for another day, and instead share our memories of brown bears and bald eagles, of sea otters and mountain goats, of killer whale fins and humpback flukes, of muddy hikes, sightseeing flights and snowcapped peaks. We are heading home now, but we are bringing Alaska with us.
