Our day of wildlife viewing started before breakfast in Chatham Strait.  The distinctive “rooster tails” created when Dall’s porpoises speed through the water were spotted off the starboard of the National Geographic Sea Lion.  The black and white markings, similar to a killer whale, are visible when the Dall’s porpoise bow ride, like they did very briefly this morning.  After swimming alongside the boat, surfing the wake, the porpoises who had joined us returned to feeding alongside several other porpoises and we continued on our way.

Shortly after anchoring in Kelp Bay, we set out for adventure on and around Pond Island, a small island off of the coast of Baranof Island.  We were fortunate to arrive during a negative tide exposing portions of the subtidal area rarely seen from land.  An abundance of colorful false ochre and sunflower sea stars were interspersed among blue mussels and barnacle encrusted rocks.  Spotted running amongst the intertidal seaweed and invertebrates was a dark chocolate colored mink.  Kayakers launched from the rocky beach and explored the coastline and the subtidal life flourishing just beneath their boats.  Meanwhile, the walkers entered the forest, so thickly carpeted with moss the earth sank and rebounded with each step.  Pinesap and western coralroot, two saprophytes that live on dead organic matter, were scattered along the forest floor.  Towering to the canopy were yellow cedar trees.  A number of the cedar trees were culturally-modified with strips of bark removed.   Skunk cabbage uprooted by bears, beaver ponds, banana slugs ranging in color from white to “ripe”… our walks were a true temperate rainforest adventure!

During the afternoon, we traveled south in Chatham Strait scanning the waters for wildlife and marveling at the cascading waterfalls, and learned about some of the behaviors unique to humpback whales in

Southeast Alaska.  Dr. Andy Szabo, director of the Alaska Whale Foundation, was onboard to share his and other’s research on humpback whales’ behavior and the importance of future research to help minimize human-whale conflicts.  Just before dinner, we explored Red Bluff Bay.  We were rewarded with views of fog hanging in the trees, red cliffs, and a brown bear grazing and lazing around in a meadow.

The clouds were creeping down the mountains, the sky was darkening, the sea was as calm as glass, and the world was peaceful, quiet.  These conditions would be magical enough on their own, but Southeast Alaska had something even grander in store for us.  Four humpback whales surfaced at once to breathe.  One at a time, in close succession, they dove.  One fluke, two flukes, three flukes, four flukes.  Four (long) minutes later, they burst through the surface of the water, mouths open, throats distended, herring consumed.  We were witnessing bubble-net feeding, the cooperative feeding style we had learned about earlier in the afternoon.

Exhausted after an exhilarating day of hiking, kayaking, and wildlife watching, we retired to bed to recharge for tomorrow’s adventures.