A Resurrection Day to Remember

(By Heidi Zemach for Seward City News)

Orca Whale

What an awesome day Easter Sunday was. My family and I braved snow squalls and bouncy seas to tour Resurrection Bay, hoping to witness the California Gray whales as they begin their annual migration north to the Bering Sea. My family was among 30 passengers traveling on Major Marine Tours boat M/V Orca Song.

Resurrection Bay was given its name by Alexander Baranof, the famed Russian explorer-governor who first traveled into the bay on Easter Sunday, 1792. So it really was the perfect day to explore a place landlubbers rarely see. As we moved beyond the boat harbor, Captain Michael G. McKern gave us the number one rule—Don’t fall off the boat. The second rule was, If you have to throw up—do it overboard—preferably down wind, a rule that would be unwittingly broken several times during the trip by small children, but was far preferable to breaking the first rule.

As we journeyed across the east side of the bay toward Humpy Cove, passengers eagerly donned their binoculars and jackets and braved the deck—only to return inside minutes or seconds later when driving wind forced the breath from their chests, blew off caps, and made some fear breaking the first rule. I lasted only about six seconds the first time outside. Until we saw something interesting, I would be satisfied to watch the craggy snow-covered mountains, the mist hanging low in the spruce trees, and the blue and white tower of Spring Creek Correctional Center receding from view from the comfort of the main cabin.

Our captain skillfully steered the boat near all manner of watchable wildlife and sights, slowing down, and letting us know what we were seeing all the while. He peppered his talk with interesting tidbits and amusing quips. “I know when and where all of the other kinds of salmon run,” he joked, “but I’m afraid I don’t know when or where the smoked salmon run.”

For a while we watched a sea otter with a blond face, lounging in the waves, scratching the sides of his head with his front flippers. He appeared content and seemingly oblivious to the large tour boat at his side, with its crowd of amateur photographers leaning over the rails watching. Then, it was on toward Thumb Cove, a key “party spot” on Resurrection Bay, according to McKern. That cove, and the state park on the south beach are particularly popular with kayakers, he said. If you choose to go kayaking however, be sure to rent a yellow one, so sight-seeing boats can see you better, McKern said.

Some local history also revealed itself along the way: abandoned steel and mortar World War II battlements and cement-gray lookout sites that were used to guard against Japanese invaders; and the remains of deep piers where a dock had stood at one time.

Certain rocky areas that jutted out of the water or the side of the mountain turned out to be active Stellar Sea Lion haul-outs. They were white- spattered and frequented by circling flocks of gulls and Kittiwakes,  Approaching, we could see the many sea lions and hear their muted woofing—especially the dominant males who barked warning orders to keep the others in line, and us at a distance. Some, who preferred the freedom of the sea, took their leave and plunged off the rocks into the icy waves. On one haul out, passengers spotted the fresh carcass of a sea lion or harbor seal, with gulls and bald eagles busily feeding on it. 

Drawing in close to the side of a steep mountain, we spotted eight mountain goats with thick white coats and short dark horns, scrambling among the spruce trees as they munched springtime greenery. Several young frolicked along, following the adult’s example. By then the sun had come out from behind the clouds for a spell, and some rainbow-patterned snow clouds showed themselves, putting the passengers and crew in a positive mood. 

The Orca Song traveled around the south side of Rugged Island toward the Harding Gateway, but Harding Icefield, with its hanging glaciers was barely visible at the upper portion of the mountain. We then sped toward Mary’s Bay where the Gray Whale migration typically occurs. There, the seas became extremely bumpy—with alarming blue seven-foot swells. No whale spouts to be seen there either, but then, spotting any would have been difficult in the spitting snow squall that had miraculously appeared.

A snow squall also beat us to Bear Glacier, completely obscuring the giant glacier although we were just a couple of miles away. A day earlier, warm sunny spring weather had brought out 99 passengers for the company’s first sightseeing trip of the season, and they had seen mountain goats, Humpbacks, sea lions and a large group of Dall’s porpoises, said crew member Kendra Oldow. She assured us that there would be plenty more beautiful days to come out on the bay.

But wouldn’t you know it, just as we were about to give up on seeing any whales, and had returned to almost within sight of Seward, a pod of resident Orcas showed up, and let us carefully accompany them back toward the boat harbor. Each time they reached the surface, they blew loud puffs of spray, before slowly disappearing again. “That just made our trip,” said my husband Robert, a biologist who would probably have been content just to see the mountain goats. Even my 12-year old daughter Hannah, who had been sleeping ever since getting out of cell-phone range, had woken up and joined her older brother Gabe out on the deck to watch the amazing spectacle.

As for me, I had been captivated since taking the time to read a folder of photos and clippings containing the life story of our boat captain. As a teenager, McKern had both arms amputated at the elbow in a burn accident and infection, but had spent decades since at the helm of fishing vessels, sailboats, and charter boats. Curiosity being a habit of mine, I just had to go check out the captain’s quarters—and there he was, sitting in front of the wheel, skillfully steering it with his feet—a method he uses for the smaller steering corrections, heading the ship back toward Seward. I could hardly believe what I was seeing, and found this man’s spirit and talents almost as awesome as the Orcas we had just seen.