The Inian Islands & Fox Creek
The waters of Cross Sound are anything but still. This narrow northern entrance to the Inside Passage is one of only a few ways to access the Pacific Ocean and the tumultuous Gulf of Alaska. Rich with nutrients and traveling at the speed of a river, the seawater rushes past small rocky islets occupied by the largest sea lion on Earth, the Steller sea lion. This morning we utilized the National Geographic Sea Lion’s fleet of Zodiacs to explore the realm of this graceful giant, often under the watchful eyes of perched bald eagles.
Amidst the cacophony of sound and the unique smells of the haul out, we experienced these animals in their most natural realm. Using powerful fore flippers, the sea lions zigged and zagged through the currents with effortless agility, occasionally clearing the surface in a full leap before splashing down very near one of their cohorts. Banded together in tightly packed gangs, the observant Steller sea lions followed our Zodiacs with the same curiosity we showed upon approaching their haul out. Regardless of one’s point of view, human, eagle, or sea lion, there were great wildlife viewing opportunities this morning.
The nearby region of Fox Creek, on Chichagof Island, is where our afternoon activities took place. Whether it was kayaking along the quiet shores with only the sound of eagles and humpback whales, enjoying the serenity of the temperate rainforest on a hike, or viewing the many marine mammals from the Zodiacs, all of us ended this week’s voyage with something memorable. But our exploration of Southeast Alaska did not end at Fox Creek. The humpback whales had more to show us.
Tonight’s dessert was cut short for some and taken on the bow by others. There are few things that can arrest dinner conversation amongst friends more quickly than whales. Few animals will bring so many people so quickly into the cold air than these behemoths.
Diving in unison, seven humpback whales cruised the shore near Point Adolphus in a regular circuit. With flukes raised high above the water they submerged in a fashion that nearly anyone can see as teamwork. Here on the bow, most of us in our dinner attire, others running back for beanies between surfacings, we watched animals that so completely captive us. Even from the lounge we can watch the animals through the windows in the comfort of climate control.
But tonight, the lounge was empty. The bow full. Tonight, we seek the visceral and wild. We stand on the bow with cold ears and chilly hands. We stand on the bow with smiles.
“This just doesn’t get old, does it?” asks Peg from Maine. No, it doesn’t.
