nest searching
Written while stuck in Yakutat on June 2:
Well, I'm on my way back to Juneau. But not too fast. We got to Yakutat yesterday through some stormy seas and the weather is taking a turn for the worse, 12 foots seas and 30 knot winds, so we are holed up in Yakutat indefinitely. I'm kinda ready to get home. Every day I'm deciding which of my clothes are the least dirty and most acceptable to wear. I want to ride my bike and grab a beer with some friends. Although, after living in close quarters on a boat with six others for over a month, maybe I could use another day or two of anti-social time. Yesterday, when we pulled in to Yakutat, I got off the boat and went for a walk up the road towards Yakutat-town. It was sunny and quiet and wonderful. Nothing but some birds singing and my footsteps on the asphalt. It's funny how comforting the pavement felt beneath my feet. Usually I don't like roads a whole lot. But being on that boat for so long, the majority of the walking I ever did was between the bunk room and the galley. I was on shore some, but only to trudge through sand or bushwhack through alders. A few winters ago I tracked wolves in Yellowstone and spent all of my time on the snow - on snow machine, skis, or snowshoes. The only graded surface I ever walked on was the floor in our house, between the kitchen, the bathroom, and my bedroom. At the end of the season, my friend Tim and I wanted nothing more than to go for a long easy walk in normal shoes down a paved road. It's funny, the things you miss.
Following the only road away from the water, I kept passing those "Tsunami Evacuation Route" signs, directing me away from the water. I guess whatever government policy was enacted to install those signs in every coastal community spared no expense, even in towns where it should be obvious which way to go. After about a mile or two I passed the post office and a bar with no name. I thought to myself that I must be getting close to town. A few minutes later, I passed a sign on the opposite side of the road, aimed at those heading back the way I just came, declaring "Welcome to Yakutat!" I guess I expected a little more than a post office and a bar – but what more do you really need? At that point, I think I'd seen more eagles than people.
It’s hard to swallow that the oil well in the Gulf of Mexico is still hemorrhaging into the ocean. The rig exploded a week before I left for Icy Bay – over 30 days ago. Call me optimistic, but I never believed when I departed Juneau that this thing would still be going a month later. I figured we would be on to clean up by now. Studying seabirds along this shoreline, where offshore drilling is a future possibility - not to mention our proximity to Prince William Sound, the site of the Exxon-Valdez oil spill - I've been haunted by visions of something similar happening up here. I can't imagine what a horror it must be in the Gulf of Mexico right now.
Written today:
ice in the upper fjords
Kittlitz's Murrelets - ice murrelets
In addition to Kittlitz's Murrelets, Icy Bay is a mecca for Harbor Seals. The ice that is calved off of glaciers in the upper fjords provides a sanctuary for seals to haul out and, in the spring, give birth to pups. In years past, I've certainly been amazed by the sight of adult seals and pups dotting icebergs and smaller bergy bits as we slowly trudge through the icepack in our skiff. For some reason I was re-amazed by it this year in a new way.
adult and pup Harbor Seal
I found out from another biologist that aerial surveys in Icy Bay have counted up to 5000 seals at once; that's a lot of frakking seals. Spending more time in the air this year, flying telemetry flight, allowed me to see more of this than ever before. Seals and pups sit on the ice wherever they can. Often, the ice is stained red - blood and afterbirth from pupping. Bald Eagles flock to the upper bay to forage on these spoils, gaining physical and spiritual strength from the leftovers. The ice moves with the tides and the seals ride along.
The following time lapse video depicts about an hour of real time one afternoon this May as the tide was going out, sucking ice along with it:
Untitled from Jonathan Felis on Vimeo.
I love the time lapse video! very cool.
ReplyDeleteAnd yes, very very sad about the gulf of mexico. That's why we need to keep AK clear of drills.