Category Archives: Humpback Whales

At Least We Have the Whales

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Aki is not on the boat. We can’t afford to have a dog on the boat for this, our first attempt of the summer to catch silver salmon. The guys at the Sand Bar will tell you that targeting silvers this early in the season is foolish. Call us fools but here we are in the North Pass between Shelter and Lincoln Island, trolling for salmon.

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At least we have whales, I think as four humpback whales bubble feed near the shore of Shelter Island. They swim around a school of herring, building a net of bubbles that force the school into a tight ball. Then one swims underneath it, opening its huge jaws to capture them all.

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We will see many whales today. One will surface fifty feet front our boat, swim under it, and reappear on the other side. Others will bubble feed near the spot where we actually catch two silver-bright silver salmon. We will butcher them with the care that wild things deserve and freeze the filets, eat the backbones fresh with kale from the garden. Aki will enjoy salmon skins for breakfast tomorrow.

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Whale or Squirrel

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Today I planned on writing about the rain after Aki and I returned from walking a circuit around Outer Point Trail. A hard storm had hammered the forest just before we arrived, leaving behind beads of water that clung to berries and mushrooms. These water beads captured all the surrounding light and then shined like globes of hope until destroyed by wind. Globes of hope are compelling subjects, more interesting than politics or street violence. But a whale trumped them when it surfaced and exhaled a one hundreds meters from the little dog, swam through its own mist cloud and disappeared. Aki, who finds squirrels the most compelling things, turned away from the whale while I fiddled with the lens cap on my camera. But she waited we me, without complaint, for the whale to resurface. When it did, all but its spume hidden by the Shaman Island spit, she led me back into the forest toward the chitterling squirrel.

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Sea Mammal Rock

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I would call this sea mammal rock if I wasn’t inadvertently sitting on the remains of a river otter’s meal. From the amount of scat and empty shells, it must be a favorite meal spot for the big weasels.

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On prior visits Aki and I have looked down on harbor seals raising their curious heads into the air and watched a raucous pod of stellar sea lions swim around us on a high tide. Today two humpback whales feed just a quarter-mile away.

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One of the whales is two-thirds the size of the other and I wonder if they are related. They are all business. We see no showy breaches or even an iconic flash of a tail framed against the sky. They just feed like they would at the end of a fast. Have they just returned from Hawaii, where humpbacks are so busy procreating they don’t eat? Or are they part of the minority that stays all year in Alaska waters?

4Concentrating on the whales, I don’t notice that my little dog has begun shivering. Stiffly, I rise up, poke my head over the rock edge like a curious otter, and lead Aki back into the woods.

Surprises

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beachThe appearance of bare pavement on Chicken Ridge didn’t surprise me this morning. Yesterday a warm, wet storm melted our beautiful blanket of snow off the ridge. This morning I hung up the snow shovel and took the little dog to one of the North Douglas trails.

The storm hosed off this area too so we had easy walking on a thin layer of melting snow. The fresh tracks of a wolf that had climbed up a seldom-used side trail surprised me. Hunters have been complaining about a wolf pack hammering the deer on Douglas Island. Is this the track of one of their scouts? I can’t find the tracks of a panicked deer or rabbit.

rainbow         A large raft of goldeneye ducks and scoters move nervously away from shore when as we reach the beach. Behind them a rainbow arcs up and away from Shaman Island and then fades to gray.

whale         The day’s last surprise comes on the ride home when we spot a lone humpback whale feeding near Smuggler’s Cove. It is rare to see any whales this time of year. All the fertile humpbacks are in Maui or on their way to that breeding ground. But on a December day a year or so ago I spotted one in Smuggler’s Cove. Today’s whale is too far away to photograph and only shows itself briefly each time before disappearing like the rainbow into the gray. But like the lone wolf tracks, each plume of vapor it expels provides proof that this place is still pure enough for wild animals.

Have You Ever Seen a Whale?

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channel ducks

On wet winter days

when only pastel craftsmen homes

remind us of spring and

drenched ravens harmonize

with a barking dog

an imaginative man

finds the will

to pull on rain gear

push outdoors

ignore drizzle

soaking his sensible

if ridiculous hat.

He skips down crooked steps

like one who

might see whales in the channel

spot eagles near the moored black cod boats

just make out spring-white goats on Mt. Juneau.

He wonders on the way

what imaginatives do

in southern cities

where robins always sing

to a cloudless sky

crime and traffic

provide the drama

and no one has even seen a whale.

In the Dark Looking out at the Light

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P1120538The weatherman promised cold temperatures, sun, and 40 knot winds. For once he was wrong about the wind. It usually appears with the sun in December. This pleases Aki, who thinks the wind rude to blow on days with a hard frost. P1120566

Today I find the beavers rude for flooding out yet another of my favorite trails. We need this one through the old growth forest to access a beautiful North Douglas Island beach. They are using the trail as part of their new dam. Water seeping from it forms a glaciated surface on the trail that makes walking impossible without some sort of ice aids. Already water backing up behind the dam climbs the trunks of living trees. If nothing changes the trees will be soon dead. Still, I can’t get myself to dismantle the mortarless portion of the dam to stop the damage. Must remember to always wear ice cheaters on winter visits to the beach.

P1120543On the beach, a gang of gulls float close to the beach. They appear to ignore the little dog and she ignores them. (Have they reached an understanding?). We stand in shadow on the beach but can see the low angled sun strike Shaman Island, Lynn Canal, and the mountains beyond. The contrast brings out the beauty of dark and light.  A light wind rises to drive small waves onto the beach. They splash water on  rocks already iced over by yesterday’s waves, giving them a sinister beauty. Aki, discouraged by the rising wind tries to lead me into the comfortable woods. I linger, still hoping for whales. “You are probably right little dog,” I tell her, “too late for whales.”  On the drive home I see my whale, a humpback, grabbing a snack in Smuggler’s Cove. Is he topping off for the long swim to Maui or one of the non-breeders who stay the winter?

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