Day 6 - Khutze to Mussel Inlet, Whales & Bears

I woke early to the sound of whale blows outside my cabin! But it would be impossible to see them – thick fog blanketed our boat, making Brian wonder whether we’d be able to find our way back into the Khutze salt marsh. We were determined to try to find grizzlies here!

Some granola (home made by Joshua & delicious) was on the table at 7am, and we were up on deck by 7:30am ready to load onto the zodiacs. The fog lifted sufficiently for us to go exploring. There are 10 guests, although 9 this morning (Sue F needed to rest up because of a nasty cold) – I climbed down into the smaller grey zodiac with 3 guests, Emily & Mark, and the larger zodiac had 5 guests & Brian.

Such a beautiful morning – big mountains, soft white clouds at various levels, clouds getting caught in valleys and “running down” the large valleys between the mountains, all reflected in the waterways that run through and around the salt marsh.

We headed for an area where Brian has seen grizzlies on previous visits. The tide was not yet at its high point, so there were still some very shallow areas. We made it around one corner, and to our delight, there was a mother grizzly with two cubs – still a way off, but visible, and able to be photographed. She saw and heard us and moved her cubs away a little so they were hidden.

The grey zodiac has a deeper draft than the other, and soon we were touching the rocky base of the waterway … hmm, what to do? Brian stepped out of the larger zodiac and started towing it; Mark did the same, but we kept “bottoming.” They conferred and then asked if someone would be happy to transfer from the small grey zodiac to the larger – my hand shot up. It made sense because Sue H, Steve and Charlie are one family – and I’ve done this type of transfer before.

We were now on our way again with each zodiac being towed - aside from not bottoming, we were now quiet. It really felt like African Queen, but with two Bogarts and none of the nasty mud, reeds and heat!

As we continued, there they were! Mum and two cubs – now slightly obscured by a band of fog that was at the perfect height from the ground to make photographing them difficult. The “dehaze” slider in Lightroom (software for post-processing photos) will be getting a workout tonight!

The mum didn’t wait around for long, moving her cubs to an area that now totally hid them from us. Brian and Mark climbed back into the zodiacs, and we were soon off looking around the salt marsh.

This really is one of the most beautiful and gentle places I’ve ever seen. Bald eagles flew from and to their nests, various gulls stood on rocks beside the water, and numerous smaller birds flitted from place to place. Healthy-looking chum salmon were swimming upstream under our zodiacs, seals popped their heads out of the water, and Moon jellyfish were carried along in the water by the rising tide. We moved quietly through various waterways, the land beside us covered in long grasses or forests of huge conifers, the fog drifting around the tall mountains and across the water - the Island Roamer’s mast was sometimes visible in the distance, and then not, and then reappeared. The sense of closeness and beauty is hard to describe. We were all silent as we quietly motored around this magnificent place.

Back at the boat, it was soon time to pull up the anchor and sail on to Mussel Inlet, stopping to check and watch a breaching humpback whale along the way. By the time I grabbed my camera and headed out to the bow, I saw its one last breach. It was now tail-slapping – raising its huge tail out of the water, and slapping it down hard, the sound bouncing off the rocks with a massive “bang” like a rifle shot. After several of these, often accompanied by a grunt and trumpeting sound, we heard a resounding blow as it went briefly below the surface. It repeated this sequence many, many times – time loses meaning when we’re watching this (sigh). Then it showed its tail fluke as it dived deep. It surfaced many minutes later, now further away, and quietly moved along the coastline on its own journey, a very different one to ours.

We arrived at Mussel Inlet ahead of schedule, and anchored in the bay that is the entry to this once-glacial valley. This is a huge area surrounded by granite mountains covered in trees, their lower granite faces going straight down into the sea. Donning our “outside” gear, we were soon in the Zodiacs and slowly going up a side inlet. The tide was rising, giving us a little more “room” under the Zodiacs, and the water in this area was smooth and glassy. No bears showed their faces or provided other signs of being there, so we went further around the inlet, closer to the main river that ran down from the mountains into the sea.

Once the Zodiacs were tied to some rocks on the shore, we walked to a viewing area, a small point of land next to the river. As we looked upstream we saw a grizzly out for some fishing – it was a brief view before it went behind fallen logs, their massive root systems hiding it.

It was nice to just sit and enjoy the river to our right, gulls flying from place to place, bald eagles swooping down, and salmon doing their best to swim upstream. Some never made it – there were at least three lying on the well worn rocks next to the river and near where I sat. The bears will still enjoy them, and if not, when the tide rises, and then falls, they’ll become a part of the nutrient rich waters.

On our way back to the boat we went back to the small inlet and saw a black bear mother with two cubs – one was a little away from its mother, and when it caught sight of us, it scrambled over the rocks to reach her. Very cute. The mother then led her cubs up a steep slope amongst the trees, and well out of sight.

Sunset in this inlet was beautiful – no wind and just a few clouds. A nice evening to eat outside on the stern and enjoy watching the hundreds and hundreds of gulls flying to their nests in long “streams,” skimming so close to the waveless water that their reflections seemed to almost touch them.

What will tomorrow, our last full day, bring?

Elane Zelcer