Seward, Alaska
I was extremely fortunate to
be invited by my daughter Katie, to join her on a kayak day-trip to Bear
Glacier, 15 miles south of Seward in Kenai Fjords National Park. The weather
forecast was excellent: clear skies with temps in the mid 60s sandwiched
between clouds, scattered showers, and 7’ seas.
The only water taxi permitted
to drop people off is the Seward Water Taxi, owned and operated by Captain Louis Garding. We and three other adventurers
met him on the south ramp at the Seward Boat Harbor at 6 am just after the sun
rose over the mountains to the northeast. While it was very quiet in town, it
was already bustling at the boat harbor as fishing charter boats departed with
their eager clients, and private boats launched.
Our single kayaks easily fit
on the rack above the cabin. A double kayak, inflatable paddleboard, and gear
rode on the deck. In short order, we were off, leaving sleeping Seward far
behind. In about 50 minutes, we rounded Calisto Head and caught our first
glimpse of Bear Glacier and the tops of gleaming icebergs behind the 2.5 mile-long,
gravel recessional moraine.
This moraine was first
reported in the late 1840s by the Russian Navigator I. Arkhimandritov who
gathered and completed the most comprehensive coastal survey of the Kenai
Peninsula outer coast and lower Cook Inlet in the 19th century. The
results were published by the Russian Governor M. D. Teben’kov in 1852. (From
David W. Miller’s book, Exploring Alaska’s Kenai Fjords, page 74.) Teben’kov
seems to get all the credit for the work.
When first photographed by U.
S. Grant on July 20, 1909, working for the USGS, the glacier was already slowly
retreating. Tree-ring studies of the forest trim line above Bear Glacier
indicate that recession probably began between 1835 and 1845, and that the
glacier’s 19th century advance was its greatest since the early
1600s. (Williams, p 90)
The outlet to the large lake
is on the far east side of the moraine.
Due to gravel bars, it can only be accessed at high tide by a skillful
navigator like Louis. He maneuvered the landing craft around boiling standing
waves into the strong current. Suddenly we were in the river heading for the
landing place in a relatively quiet spot about a ¼ mile up. We offloaded the
kayaks and gear, one waiting passenger got on, and the water taxi quickly
departed.
It was cool in the shade of
Calisto Head at 7:15 am as we sorted our gear and packed the kayaks. Due to the
strong current, it was safest to line them up the river, and carry them over
little peninsulas of unsorted rocks. We soon warmed up with all the exercise,
and emerged from the shadows into the bright morning sun. Two BALD EAGLES sat
on a piece of driftwood stranded on the moraine between the pounding surf and
quiet river.
After about an hour of lining and portaging, the current eased up enough
so that we could finally launch. Hurrah! Kayaking at last! The zig-zag reflections
of the steep green and brown Kenai Mountains to the west on the calm river were
so pretty. Crystal clear bergie-bits floated past. Smack between two islands ahead,
enormous blue-tinged icebergs lay marooned and enticing.
The moraine and adjacent
outwash plain became more densely vegetated with thick alders and willows, and even spruce. I must admit, I didn't pay enough attention to the plants in this exciting and distracting environment.
I
heard several birds singing including: FOX SPARROW, SONG SPARROW, HERMIT THRUSH, NORTHERN
WATERTHRUSH, YELLOW WARBLER, WILSON’S WARBLER, YELLOW WARBLER, ORANGE-CROWNED
WARBLER, and the calls of REDPOLLS and a SPOTTED SANDPIPER. GLAUCOUS-WINGED and
MEW GULLS patrolled above.
As we entered the lagoon or
lake, we were greeted by a whole platoon of marooned bergs of fantastical
shapes and shades of blue. We had been advised to stay at least as far away as
twice the height of the bergs as they are unstable and could flip
unpredictably. Some had flipped and were black with gravel from scraping along
the bottom, or perhaps their source was one of the several lateral or medial
moraines.
Not only were the shapes and
shades amazing, but the sounds! Water dripping, splashing, sploshing,
splooshing. Cracks, snaps, pops, groans, and percussive blasts, topped by thunder as
occasionally pieces broke off and rumbled into the calm water. The berg then
slowly rocked back and forth into temporary equilibrium. My daughter aptly called
these bergs, “time bombs”, released from the glacier face to drift serenely
away, armed and deceptively dangerous.
We beached the kayaks on an
outwash plain island dotted with glacial erratics to enjoy breakfast with a view. What a view! Bear Glacier
peeked through the icebergs, winding its way 12 miles from the 5000’ Harding
Icefield. Dark lateral moraines of
gravel and debris striped the sides, and broad medial moraines ran down the
middle where tributary glaciers merged. Refreshed by breakfast, we set off down
a very wide channel heading straight for the glacier’s face. Using Motion-X GPS,
Katie calculated that it was about 2.8 miles. Seven MALLARDS flew up and off.
As the sun warmed the land, the day breeze woke up. We paddled into the breeze and a slight chop, unprotected by the distant bergs. An occasional harbor seal head popped up like a periscope, cautiously surveyed the scene, then slipped silently down. One seal emerged quite close and hastily, without grace, dove with a big splash.
As the sun warmed the land, the day breeze woke up. We paddled into the breeze and a slight chop, unprotected by the distant bergs. An occasional harbor seal head popped up like a periscope, cautiously surveyed the scene, then slipped silently down. One seal emerged quite close and hastily, without grace, dove with a big splash.
We paddled towards the west
side where suddenly the water changed from its beautiful blue-green to mocha. A
large (isn’t everything large here?) triangular slab of snow partially covered
with gravel and sand protruded from the steep mountain slope. I do not know if
it was from an avalanche, perhaps from our big snow year in 2012, or a remnant
of the glacier, now isolated as the glacier retreated.
On the west side of the glacier
face, the shorn off lateral moraine was black with debris. Inside, we could
hear echoes of running water in ice caves as a very large and swift river ran
under the ice. This seemed to be a very important part of the glacier’s
plumbing and hydraulics, and source of the silt-laden water. I tasted the water
and was surprised to find it a touch salty. There must be a lot of mixing with
the tides even in the lake.
We continued paddling east,
past the giant medial moraine, and then the secondary medial moraine. I was
unable to estimate how high the jagged seracs were, or how far away we were.
Far enough, I hope, unless the face dropped off and then even far away is too
close. As the glacier is also moving deep underwater, there is always a chance
of a piece of underwater ice breaking loose and surging to the surface. I just
hoped for the best, and fortunately, this did not happen.
We reached the far east side
just in time for lunch. Rounded boulders bore glacial striations going in every
direction as the sandpaper rocky bottom of the ice described its complex journey.
SEMIPALMATED PLOVERS popped
up on the rocky till, sparsely vegetated with low alders and willows. I stayed
clear of the alert parents guarding their nests, not wishing to disturb them.
After lunch, it was time for
a nap. It had been a very short night, and the sun was so delightfully warm. I
drifted in and out as occasional cracks and booms woke me up to see a small
piece calving with tremendous farewells into the lake. What a sight, that jagged
line of dragon’s teeth!
At 2:32 pm, we felt the earth
jiggle for a few seconds. Earthquake! There is nothing more certain when you
are lying on the ground. Turns out it was a 5.8 magnitude, about 70 miles
underground, with an epicenter 75 miles nw of Anchorage. http://earthquaketrack.com/quakes/2015-06-24-22-32-20-utc-5-8-115
I watched and waited to see
if the glacier was upset by the quake, and fortunately, nothing happened. Whew!
We were too close to respond had it calved and generated a local tsunami. Back to
sleep!
After a delightful nap, we
packed up and paddled around the corner to the northeast where lots of giant
icebergs were jammed in. Wide passages miraculously opened to allow passage
between the behemoths, trying to maintain that 2x distance.
As the sun wheeled overhead
to the northwest, we paddled back towards the low-lying opening in the
vegetated outwash plain, happy to have that MotionX-GPS track to verify the route.
At least a hundred GLAUCOUS-WINGED and MEW GULLS sat on various icebergs
nearby. Others guarded nests just above the shore and cried loudly or flew
closely overhead as we paddled past. One gull was a HERRING GULL, but
I didn’t notice any others. The other party reported BLACK-LEGGED KITTIWAKES as
well.
Back to the clear river, we
were carried effortlessly downstream past one riffle to another. We passed
three BLACK OYSTERCATCHERS sunning quietly on the rocky bank. I was unable to
discern if one was a youngster as it was lying down, taking a nap with its head tucked in.
It looked as large as the adults. About 17 HARLEQUIN DUCKS flushed and flew
upstream.
In plenty of time for the
7:30 pm pickup, we hauled out at the landing spot and sorted the gear. A pack-rafter
who had camped overnight joined our group.
I walked across the moraine
to watch the surf rhythmically thunder onto the beach. Two WHITE-WINGED SURF SCOTERS, and
three PIGEON GUILLEMOTS floated just past the breakers. The white bellies and
black backs of several HORNED PUFFINS flashed in and out of sight. DOUBLE-CRESTED CORMORANTS flew low just over the water.
Right on time, Captain Louis
cruised around Callisto Head, whizzed through the treacherous river entrance
and met us at the bank. The kayaks and gear slid back in place and once again
we were off.
In a few minutes, Bear
Glacier slipped from sight. Her moaning, dripping, crying, rocking, ice berg
babies will continue to weather and morph into other fantastical shapes until
they too are reduced to bergie bits, and ultimately return to the sea and the
hydrological cycle. What a place!
If you go:
I highly recommend Captain
Louis for any water taxi destination; he is reliable, responsible, capable, and
friendly, even after a very long day.
Seward Water Taxi 907-362-4101
akcoastalsafari@hotmail.com
15-mile taxi ride departs
from the Seward Boat Harbor south ramp about an hour before high tide. The ride
takes about 50 minutes. Departure from Bear Glacier moraine is at high tide. Do
not pack any gear in the kayaks as they must be empty and light for loading and handling.
M/V Lori Sea is a 28-foot
aluminum landing craft with 12.5 feet of deck space and storage above the
cabin. The cabin seats 5-6 passengers.
Louis can take credit card payments on the spot. Be sure to tip him generously for his wonderful service!
Backcountry Safaris and Adventure 60 North are permitted on adjacent state land along the southeast side. For a lot more money, a helicopter will drop you off at their camp where you can rent kayaks and paddleboards, and a guide.
Backcountry Safaris and Adventure 60 North are permitted on adjacent state land along the southeast side. For a lot more money, a helicopter will drop you off at their camp where you can rent kayaks and paddleboards, and a guide.
Cool sites:
Repeat Photography of Alaskan
Glaciers: Bear Glacier
From a Glacier’s Perspective
Photos and discussion.
Iceberg sizes, shapes and classifications
Happy Adventuring!
Carol Griswold
Seward Sporadic Bird Report
Reporter
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