Category: Inside Passage 2025

We were waken by the sound of whales blowing. This time it turned out to be a small pod of orcas. A male, a female and a calf. The first orcas we have seen here. Soon an humpback with a calf also appeared, she appeared a bit agitated flapping with her tail and “singing”. Maybe it was because of the orcas? A few more humpbacks were blowing further away toward Admirality island so at least half a dozen whales was in line of sight for morning coffee.

Just as we had taken down camp Rick appeared. We asked about the dead, fleeced sea otters. Was it legal to hunt them? Yes, for natives was the answer. And because the sea otters population is booming, hunting is actually encouraged by the authorities.

Rick also explained about the whale watching industry. The largest in the world worked out of Juneau, 75 outfits serving the 1.6 million cruise passengers that visits Juneau per year (Juneau population is ca 32 000).

Their homestead had a wide view of the prime whale watching area between Shelter Island and Admirality island. They did not like what they saw. The whales were chased all across the strait. We had seen the frantic scurrying of ships from Admirality island yesterday afternoon, and wondered if some sort of urgent search was going on. So here was the explanation; it was whale chasing.

Next we were invited to a tour of the homestead, and explained about the water collection, greenhouses, ponds (with fish to eat mosquito larvae), escavator to build access to get out timber for firewood, two cabins for the WWOFers, solar power, wind power a back up generator, a wood fired hot tub, a 1930’s fully workable Ford A model truck…etc, and also a “flower power” (?) monument in the form of a VW beetle, and more

The “beetle monument” was Karen, Rick’s wife’s work. And it wasn’t her only artistic exploit. On grandson Tyler’s insistence we got to see the winter coat SHA had made as last winters “winter project”, all from recycled T-shirts. Quite impressive!

We need winter projects round here when we are alone on the island Karen explained.

We also got a quick introduction to cooking on wood fired stoves. The Amish still builds them to 19th century specifications and quality.

Time to bid farewell and paddle the last 15 km of our journey.

As the family and WWOFs helped us carry the kayaks we looked out on the bay where half a dozen whales had been feeding in the morning. Now we saw no whales, but rather a full dozen of whale watching boats scurrying around looking for the whales that had chased away.

Food for thought as we paddled the last km. The cruise/whale watching industry seemed to be close to destroying the whale presence and behaviour they were living off. And every year whales are killed by collisions with ships. Four so far this season we were told.

On the other hand a lot of Juneau live “down stream” from this industry. Weaning off will take some doing.

Maybe too much thinking and too little attention paid to landing spot. We managed to pass the suggested kayak delivery point by several km and ended up in the marina of Auke Bay.

Fortunately, Mike who will take the kayaks on behalf of Joe saw us paddle by and came over to help with a van.

When he saw how much luggage we took out of the boats, he offered to loan us his other truck! Soon a quite proud Karianne came back back with a truck that just dwarfed her!

We found accommodation above a laundromat! Top location for our purpose. What remains now is rest, wash and repair. And travel home on Saturday. No more blogs.

We had a good nights sleep, at least until the humming of outboard engines started about 0300. Alaskans certainly get up early in the morning.

No alarms went off and there were no tracks in the intra tidal zone in the morning.

We planned for a slow start after a long yesterday. And we planned to go back up to check on the carcass. From the kayaks. Then a small boat with one person on board came from across the fjord and steered right to the beach where the carcass was, taking some caution on the last fifty metres in. He (?) was there for about twenty minutes, then left the same way. We’ll never know what he was up to. When we paddled up the carcass was still there. Was it some sort of bait? Why no ravens? In any case it certainly was depressing and we had miles to paddle. We left without further investigation.

We will investigate when we get to Juneau

Otherwise it was a glorious day to paddle, no dry suits and a couple of dips during lunch break.

After lunch the currents turned against us and it took a bit of effort. Our planned camp sites were partly not as good as they looked on googles and partly “occupied” by leisure boats. So we ended up with a 36 km paddle, instead of the planned 25 or so.

We eventually found an OK site, no morning sun, but no problem: tomorrow will be a wet day anyway.

Aa bonus the first whale of the day appeared just before we went ashore. Otherwise this would have been the first day without a sighting.

Wilderness is ending.

Tomorrow we must cross Chatham strait, which is a busy shipping lane and find a campsite near Auke Bay, without trespassing onto private property. New type of challenge..

We had a long breakfast. This was the day Karianne and Erling would paddle on but Mikko would stay behind to fly back to Finland. This was as planned. Karianne and Erling had put in a couple of extra days for any kayak logistics back to Haines, but now that Joe Osterling has fixed drop off both in Gustavus and Juneau, we will use those extra days to paddle the 125 or so km to Juneau

Eventually it was not possible to postpone the departure any longer At least not if we were to avoid atrocious head currents as we paddled onward. Some last big hugs and Mikko pushed our kayaks out. Mikko has been the organiser and the person to know his way and the nature around here, it will be a different trip without him.

It started splendidly! Sun shining, 20 plus degrees, no dey suits for once. After an hour or so a big humpback jumped out of the water a couple of hundred meters behind us and landed with a big splash, and again, and again, and again. The whale also sang it guttural song and several times splashed it is tail in quick succession. While the jumping and landing sound more like thunder or a cannon, the tail flipping sounds more like a gun shot. Eventually the whale disappeared toward Bartlett Cove. She/he clearly had something to communicate and it was easier to interpret it as agitation than joy, but what do we know?

We paddled on, sneaking along the beach to avoid head currents. We heard another whale repeatedly jumping in the fra distance. We could not locate it. By the time the sound reached us the splash was gone. A lot of agitation in the humpback community today we thought.

After about three hours paddling we finally approached the ferry jetty in Gustavus. Time to think about a lunch break. Again we heard the sound of gunshot ahead. Another humpback we thought.

The jetty was not a particularly inviting place and just half an hours paddling across a sound we saw sunny beaches on Pleasant Island. Easy choice.

As we got to the beach we were greeted by a raven that only reluctantly moved on. We should have taken the hint. But after almost four hours and 22 km in the kayak, we were eager to get some food. We did a quick inspection anyway, no bear signs and no carcass to explain the ravens behaviour. We set up the stove and got ready to cook lunch.

Only then did we become aware of something drifting slowly toward the beach. Erling waded out to investigate. It was four fleeced sea otter carcasses. The gun shot sound we heard might have been just that -a gunshot?

To us this was both shocking and disgusting. We lost our appetite. And even if we were a bit fatigued we just had to paddle on for another five km to where we had planned to stop for the day.

Now we were both tired, hungry and a bit upset. So no time for decisions. First a big helping of spagetti.

The landscape/seascape between Gustavus and Juneau is such that we had to have at least one long paddling day. Well fed and comfortable in the sunshine we decided to take the good conditions while we had them and paddle on.

We set course toward a set of small islands. Pleasant island had exactly not lived up to its name. And we learned from the “hyttebok” back in the hot springs that bears may come to associate hunting with food and therefore humans with food. Just the thought would make for a bad night’s sleep.

We were in luck, or so we thought. We found a steep pebble beach, a perfect beach to both land on and launch from. We hoped the “bear inspection” would be a formality.

But no. There were tracks. Too big to be explained away as washed out deer tracks. When we followed than we found another fleeced sea otter carcass. And more tracks that we interpreted as one big and two smaller bears. A bear sow with two cubs likely “owned” this carcass. We had no plans to contest that ownership.

But we were in a bit of a bind. The sun was setting it would soon become dusk. We had already paddled 41 km and if we did not stay on this island there was at least an 10 km crossing before we could start looking for another spot and by then it would be getting dark. In short we needed to find a place on this island, just as far from the carcass as possible.

We paddled on for about 1 km and to the last beach of the island. It was also a good one and bigger which means more space for man and beast to stay clear of each other. 1 km isn’t a long walk for a bear family, but we looked at the bright side: they would be busy with their carcass (?)

We set up camp, set our alarms and lit a campfire to boot. We had done what we could, then take bear spray, flares, alarm torch and knife and get in the tents to get some sleep.

And eventful and a bit disturbing day. Slumbering off the thoughts spun a little. They kill sea otters for their skin! How can they? But on reflection and watching how people live around here, we should probably not be haughty about it. Whoever did the killing probably leaves less of an environmental footprint than we do. And as for animal welfare, whoever shops meat in an Oslo grocery store is not in a position to moralise.

And wasn’t our much admired Aleutian baidarka paddlers sea otter hunters?

Still it is sad and depressing, the sea otters have been a steady presence for three weeks, they feel like friends by now. Maybe even role models; curious, caring and great at enjoying life floating on their backs.

We had just a short paddle planned back to Glacier Bay Ranger station, at Bartlett Cove. Our eight day permit to explore Glacier Bay was up. And we need to arrange for the pick up of Mikko’s boat before he heads back from Gustavus on Monday.

There were whales, not quite as many as yesterday, but still five to six within the four by five km bay in front of us.

On our way back we saw a black bear at the shore of the island nearest Bartlett Cove. The closer we get to people the more bears we see.

The agitated sea lions from last Friday was still there and no happier to see us than last time.

And the apparently “happy go lucky” sea otters didn’t care today either.

We got the tents up. We chose the site with the freshest bear shit, it seems they shit a different place every night, so this site is hopefully “spoken for” -or shall we say “shat for”- for the two nights we stay here.

Sunday Karianne and Erling paddle on to Juneau.

That means four days without coverage. Except satellite.

The day started gray as almost all days do in this humid climate with cool nights. But soon there was drastic improvement. The sun came out and yesterday’s wind was gone. As we paddled off it was one of those mornings with the sea like a mirror displaying the silvery trails of sea otters, sea lions and whales.

At least on our northeastern part of Glacier Bay. This is the part that gets the most sun. The west part that we paddled up was covered in low clouds/fog the whole day with occasional showers.

Quite a contrast. On “our” side we were basking in the sun and we each had about four dips into the water to keep cool over lunch.

It is not just today. We can see it on the vegetation. A lot of hemlock on the sunny side, almost none on the cloudy side, more flowers etc.

As we paddled off after lunch we lost count of how many whales were blowing all around us. Mostly humpbacks, but also one big dark one with a different tail design.

We slumbered off to the sounds of whales blowing and the occasional cannon like sound of a thirty ton humpback landing in water after a big jump.

We also hear their “singing”, some were clearly “get off my turf or else….” Type communication, others sounded like attempt at more harmonious messaging, albeit a bit guttural

Over night nature went back to reinforest mode. At breakfast we discussed whether it was actually raining or we were just sitting in the middle of a cloud.

Again the alarm went off and again there was no sign of interference nor any sound of something big retreating through the forest.

We got off to a 0915 start, wind and current was against us, but we had some ways to go and better to creep along the coastline at 3 km per hour than to wait it out in the middle of a cloud.

We made reasonable progress all the same and a short lunch was all the conditions invited to so we arrived at our island for the night around 1630.

As a bonus weather improved and several humpbacks were feeding just outside campsite. closer to shore two seals were patrolling -with scepticism we imagined.

We are also looking north into the east branch of glacier bay, a less trafficked place.

We have been very lucky with the weather in Glacier Bay and this morning was no different

.

A sunny start to the day helped Karianne and Erling spot the wild strawberry and get some vitamins for breakfast. (Eagle eye Suominen can probably spot them in thick fog, he plays in a different league when it comes to spotting things in nature)

We waited a bit so we could get advantage of following current as the tide fell.

We did a small detour so that we could have a view to a glacier at our lunch break. It was a sad sight. No ice to be seen, it was all covered in rock and debris. The glaciers of Glacial Bay seem to be vanishing fast.

The paddle after lunch was a longish, hard and uneventful slog, unless you managed to take some interest in the carbonate geology of the barren cliffs we were paddling past. Hardly a whale to break the monotony. And always the sound of diesel engines.

We found a ok shielded campsite just as we were running out of steam

And there was still a bit of whisky and a bit of well aged ice left

Tomorrow before lunch will be more of the same, but then we get into the east arm of Glacier Bay, we look forwards to see how that differs (or not) from the west arm.

There wasn’t much water left in the ocean as we started the day at 0630, so no hurry for breakfast. We were hoping to find a passage into Blue Mouse Cove that would save us an hours paddling

As we were waiting a humpback came close by and held a jumping exhibition, an extraordinary start to the day

Mikko went first and found the passage into Blue Mouse Cove and there we were greeted by the next humpback.

Our plan for the day was to get to Reid’s Inlet. There is a glacier almost reaching the sea and we thought it would be nice with some ice for our two ceremonial toasts. First “Å så fint at vi kom hit!” Then “Ingen har det bedre enn oss”

We needn’t worry, small icebergs were floating by and we chopped off a good chunk out of one really small one that we saw “capsize” just before. (You don’t want to be there when it happens)

Weather was spectacular and so are the mountains.

At the end of the day a “billionaire yacht” came in and made some waves and noise, and put out some crab fishing gear.

Then all quiet as the sound of the last diesel engine of the day vanished into the bay

We slept a bit on the “bear alert”, but well out of the way of where we saw its trek. “Let’s hope for a quiet night” Mikko said as we crept into the tents. We all expected one of the two alarms (one for food, the other for the kayaks) to go off. But no, we really got a quiet night.

We had planned to explore an inlet where no motorised traffic is allowed.

As we paddled off the sun came out and it became really warm in the dry suit. And then we spotted a small island with some tiny shell sand beaches between granite “svaberg” outcrops. We decided to go in and set up camp and let the inlet come to us. Only Erling went for a small tour to look at a braided river and its delta and fetch some extra fresh water for clothes washing or at least cleansing after a sea water wash.

It became a glorious day in the sun, with frequent dips to cool down. In the company of black oystercatchers and arctic terns, a few sea otters, seals and a lone humpback whale (of the day).

In the end we even got the tarp out to get some shade.

It was more a skerry than an island, just a couple of small trees in the middle of a 50 by 20 meter rocky outcrop

(granite with some mafic xenolites, in case you were wondering)

Still, under those trees a bear had had its day bed. To judge by the associated droppings it had not been used for a long time.

No more birds nests to plunder and the wild strawberries not yet ripe, there wasn’t much for a bear to justify wasting precious calories on. Of course the bear might not have “gotten that memo“. On the other hand we have not been ashore even a handful of times without finding traces of bear activity. It literally goes with the territory.

Both actually.

As this is written in the evening in “Blue Mouse cove“, we sit here looking at five boats anchored in the cove. Add to that two huge cruise ships and maybe a handful of smaller cruise/tourist boats, and we haven’t paddled a stroke without line of sight to tourist activities.

This is the least remote place we have been to since leaving Sitka, except obviously for Elfin Cove. Close to 800 000 visit Glacier Bay each year. 90% of them in cruise ships. The Rangers are here to protect and enforce minimum impact.

There is a reason for this tourist activity . The landscape is stunning. A deep fjord surrounded by snow capped mountains. And the biotope is becoming “high mountain at sea level”. What used to grow line green meadows at four to five hundred metres above sea level and with an intervening band of spruce and hemlock, is now growing at the shoreline. Further north there are still a couple of glacier that reach all the way into the fjords.

We have also seen intrastadial tree trunks sticking out of the gravel on the shoreline. These are the remains of trees that grew before the last glaciatiaon of the area and somehow escaped total destruction by the ice during glaciation.

So it is rough here. And more barren. We have seen only a few sea otters and only one whale. Fewer eagles as well, but more gulls. Mostly “krykkje”

Also one bear walking leisurely along the shore across the bay as we were having morning coffee (bear number seven).

If you look a bit there is traces of bear everywhere on land. At last night’s campsite, at the lunch stop and at tonight’s campsite. But no alarm last night and no one had touched the boats.

Tomorrow we plan to explore one of the areas where motorboats are not allowed at all.