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The best whale moment of the morning was totally unexpected. Three humpbacks dived in succession.”
been spotted. After a day spent on board, it’s really wel- come to stretch out one’s legs in the rain forest. The trail undulates through a quiet world of spongy mosses and primeval ferns, breaking out abruptly into a view of the meandering river. Today the bears are dining elsewhere, but it’s simply lovely to sit for an hour in the tall grass, clouds streaming by, the sound and smell of the breeze teasing your senses. It’s amazing to me that all this lush plant life is a mere 200 years old, as hundreds of feet of ice covered this very spot just that recently. The next morning is becalmed, and Bartlett Cove is
glassy, a dreamy surface on which to kayak in search of humpback whale. Our kayak briefer, Lexa, warns us not to chase the whales, as we could receive a ticket from a backcountry ranger. Once in the water I realize how futile a chase would be, as the whales we see play and dive and surface at wide intervals. With only paddle power, the best strategy is to kayak along the pebbly shoreline, in search of bears or eagles, and let the whales come to you. Eventually one does just that, its tail rising high over the rich blue water and diving deep 50 yards off our bow. But the best whale moment of the morning was
totally unexpected. Out to the west a pure white cruise ship had just turned north, beginning its sojourn into
Glacier Bay, when three humpbacks dived in succession. Their blue black tails were silhouetted against the bright hull background, diving one, two, three, bow to stern, in quiet majesty. Later that afternoon, I jump a real whale-watching tour
on the good ship Taz. Leaving the dock at Gustavus in a drenching rain squall, we motor across Icy Strait to Point Adolphus, a prime fi shing ground for the humpbacks. Happily, the squall blows through, leaving a fairly calm sea. Captain Brad dips his hydrophone into the deep cold waters and soon we’re regaled by a variety of whalesongs, eerily piercing, punctuated with grunts, squeaks and gut- tural moans. We can even hear the reverberations from slapping pectoral fi ns on the surface. The afternoon ends with a stunning series of breaches by a large adult hump- back, clearly happy to be alive, as are we after marveling at his athletic jumps and thundering splashes. That visual still thrills me as I board Alaska Airlines’
evening fl ight from Gustavus back to Anchorage, to catch a morning train. Early the next day I’m bound for Denali, riding the new panoramic McKinley Explorer Railcars on the Alaska Railroad. The hours slide by easily, as do whole forests, a multitude of trout streams, quiet towns, and conversations with new friends.
A humpback whale breaches in the icy waters off Point Adolphus near Glacier Bay National Park.
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