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Duncan Murrell - A Whale of a Time

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Duncan Murrell - A Whale of a Time

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  • I took this photo near my first real private accommodation in Petersburg. I had gone from living in the forest next to the beach in a shelter made from skunk cabbage leaves, to a polythene shelter in the forest, to a dilapidated old house, then to the cannery bunkhouse, and then to an apartment in the old Petersburg Pilot Newspaper building on Sing Lee Alley. I shared a darkroom in the old building with another local photographer. From there I moved onto the sailboat Avalon.
    Southeast-Alaska-winter3.jpg
  • I climbed Petersburg Mountain on many occasions. It was just the right height for a quick energetic climb and workout, usually taking less than an hour. It provided a great day out from Petersburg after a short boat ride across The Narrows. Although not that high the view from the top was stupendous.
    Southeast-Alaska-winter1.jpg
  • There were two dry docks that we used in Petersburg: this one and one in the Old Harbour right in front of the Harbour Master's office, where we were in full view while docking her, and scrubbing and painting her hull, so we preferred to be out of public view at this one.
    Southeast-Alaska-Avalon5.jpg
  • Southeast-Alaska-winter7.jpg
  • My Klepper folding kayak fitted perfectly on the extra large deck for a small 28 ft sailboat. We also had a small dinghy called "Teacup" that fitted alongside my kayak on top of the forward hatch. They did get in the way when we were sailing but we didn't use the sails very often.
    Southeast-Alaska-Avalon4.jpg
  • When we first bought the sailboat from the builder, a highly skilled English shipwright called Jim, he had painted the deck with black bitumastic paint as a drastic last resort to stop the mahogany deck leaking. It worked but created such a horrible mess on our hands and clothes, or anything that came into contact with it so we had to bite the bullet and scrape it all off, and what a horrible job that was! We then had to recaulk it in the old traditional way, and seal it with sealant using a sealant gun, which was also a horribly messy job. It was the first time that I had done anything like that before. The final sealing with sealant wasn't very successful because the seams opened up so much in hot dry weather, and the deck always leaked to some degree in different places. Apparently mahogany isn't the ideal choice for decking because it shrinks and swells too much.
    Southeast-Alaska-Avalon2.jpg
  • Southeast-Alaska-winter9.jpg
  • Southeast-Alaska-winter5.jpg
  • I took this photo from the end of the salmon cannery where I worked from 1979-86. The Devils Thumb mountain is clearly visible on the border between Canada and the USA.This photo was my first photo to be used by the Alaskan Marine Highway, and appeared on the cover of the ferry schedule. They used several more of my photos in exchange for free passes every year.
    Alaska-ferry.jpg
  • Southeast-Alaska-winter8.jpg
  • Southeast-Alaska-winter4.jpg
  • Southeast-Alaska-winter6.jpg
  • Southeast-Alaska-winter2.jpg
  • Alaska-ferry3.jpg
  • We had a small woodstove, for cooking and heating, which required very small pieces of wood. On the starboard side of the boat there was a bunker for wood. Much chopping, splitting and sawing was required to make kindling and a sufficient supply of short lengths of wood to keep the stove going. Because it was such a small space we could get smoked out very quickly. There was a little wooden stool next to the stove, which we referred to as the hot seat. We enjoyed having social gatherings on the boat, and they were very intimate cheek to jowl occasions because of the cramped space. The coach roof was supported by very stout laminated ash beams, which inflicted many painful bruises on my head and on anybody else who was forgetful of the limited overhead clearance. It was my first experience living on a boat and I absolutely loved it.
    Southeast-Alaska-Avalon1.jpg
  • Southeast-Alaska-Avalon3.jpg
  • Southeast-Alaska-winter10.jpg
  • Alaska-ferry_.jpg
  • Avalon wasn't the easiest boat to sail in the erratic wind conditions that are so prevalent in Southeast Alaska; there could be sudden gusts that knocked her right over on her side, and prompted much panic  to steer her back into the wind. I'm wearing my favourite hat and Woolrich coat from the Salvation Army charity shop in Petersburg, which was an endless source of useful items, and probably had the richest pickings of any charity shop that I have used regularly used.
    Southeast-Alaska-Avalon6.jpg
  • Cape Fanshawe was always one of my first anchorages after leaving Petersburg, either in one of my boats, Avalon and subsequently Selena, or in my kayak. It’s on the mainland and at the entrance to my favourite place for vegetation in Southeast Alaska, Port Houghton. Although there are some safe anchorages in amongst the small islands there, and there used to be a fur farm situated there, the actual cape is very exposed to the full power of the elements as can be seen by the way these rocks on the shore have been sculpted; they have been sculpted like waves and are extremely slippery to walk on.<br />
I always remember being trapped there in my kayak late in the summer because the sea conditions were so rough. I was trying to get back to Petersburg at the end of a trip, and when the weather eventually cleared for a while, I had to make a dash for town and paddled continuously for 14 hours to make it back there. I had nearly been out of food, and to add to my torment my tent was being constantly bombarded with cones by a very petulant and territorial squirrel: it developed into squirrel wars!
    Southeast-Alaska-coast12.jpg
  • Western hemlock (Tsuga heterophylla) growing beside beaver pond, on the mainland just north of Petersburg, Southeast Alaska, USA.
    Alaska-vegetation31.jpg
  • Alaska-vegetation32.jpg
  • Alaska-ferry.jpg
  • Anthropomorphic iceberg, LeConte Inlet, Southeast Alaska, USA<br />
.<br />
Ice calving off from the tidewater glaciers of Southeast Alaska can assume just about any shape or form, that gradually metamorphoses as they melt. This was one of the most anthropomorphic icebergs that I ever came across washed up on the shore of the Le Conte inlet where the Le Conte Glacier is situated, the southernmost tidewater glacier in North America.
    Alaska-glaciation20.tif
  • Southeast-Alaska-winter11.jpg
  • It was always important to know where the safest anchorages were because the weather conditions could deteriorate very quickly. Some weren't secure enough, and I spent many a sleepless night making sure that the anchor was still secure and that Avalon was being dragged onto the rocks.
    Southeast-Alaska-Avalon8.jpg
  • I became very familiar with this small local ferry because I usually used it to get to one of the small native communities like Kake, Angoon and Hoonah, from where I started my kayaking trips that often ended up at Tenakee Springs, where I boarded it to return back to Petersburg. It became like a trusted old friend that I enjoyed seeing cruising past my various campsites, and looked forward to being reunited with at the end of my arduous trips, and then relaxing in relative comfort on my way home to Petersburg.<br />
MV LeConte is a feeder vessel for the Alaska Marine Highway System, built in Sturgeon Bay, Wisconsin in 1973 and commissioned in 1974 by Alaska's ferry system. LeConte is the older sister ship to M/V Aurora, and both serve as feeder vessels that pick up passengers in small communities such as Hoonah and take them to larger regional communities (this process is colloquially known as the "milk run").<br />
In the case of the LeConte, it primarily serves in the northern portion of the Alaskan Panhandle in between Sitka and Juneau, but it also occasionally ventures all through Southeast Alaska as well, LeConte and the M/V Aurora are the only AMHS vessels able to serve the communities of Angoon, Pelican, Tenakee Springs, and two of the three vessels (the M/V Taku also is able to access these ports) to serve Hoonah and Kake. This quality is due because of these vessels' small sizes thus making them both vital assets for the ferry system and the residents of these rural villages.
    Alaska-Ferry97.jpg
  • Wave-cut platform at Cape Fanshawe, on the mainland, Southeast Alaska, USA.<br />
<br />
Cape Fanshawe was always one of my first anchorages after leaving Petersburg, either in one of my boats, Avalon and subsequently Selena, or in my kayak. It’s on the mainland and at the entrance to my favourite place for vegetation in Southeast Alaska, Port Houghton. Although there are some safe anchorages in amongst the small islands there, and there used to be a fur farm situated there, the actual cape is very exposed to the full power of the elements as can be seen by the way these rocks on the shore have been sculpted; they have been sculpted like waves and are extremely slippery to walk on.<br />
I always remember being trapped there in my kayak late in the summer because the sea conditions were so rough. I was trying to get back to Petersburg at the end of a trip, and when the weather eventually cleared for a while, I had to make a dash for town and paddled continuously for 18 hours to make it back there. I had nearly been out of food, and to add to my torment my tent was being constantly bombarded with cones by a very petulant and territorial squirrel; it developed into squirrel wars!
    coast-3.tif
  • This was one of my very few whale photos that was taken from a boat when I was living in Petersburg: this was taken a short distance from the town. The products manager that used a lot of my work for Athena International moved to another big international paper products company, Verkerke based in the Netherlands. He continued to select my whale photos for the new company, and this is one of the first images that was used for a large poster.
    Alaska-humpback-whale-sounding5.jpg
  • As this beaver pond was quite near Petersburg I was able to observe them quite often here.
    Alaska-forest-beaver-pondAlaska-vege...jpg
  • The LeConte Inlet and Glacier were only a day's paddle from Petersburg so it was a good day out for me whenever I was living in the town. The glacier is the southernmost tide-water glacier in the Northern Hemisphere. I always enjoyed the challenge of trying to navigate my way through the congested ice floes, and then trying to photograph the seals without disturbing them, which most of the time I was able to do because of the stealth that a kayak provides. Being in a kayak also enabled me to get very close and low to icebergs so that I could take close-ups of the amazing icebergs sculpted into infinite shapes and forms, and luminescent with ethereal shades of blue and green. I always used the Indian method of anchoring with a rock tied to an anchor line resting on the bow, and then an additional longer bow line with the last half metre wrapped around the rock, so that when I pushed the kayak out and yanked on the long bow line the rock and anchor line were dislodged and fell into the water.
    Alaska-camping-kayaking8.jpg
  • The prevailing wind in Southeast Alaska is SE, and in the early days when I was kayaking mainly in Frederick Sound and Stephens Passage I had to paddle southwards back to Petersburg against strong headwinds and waves. But sometimes the wind and waves were too much for me when the weather  deteriorated in late September, and I had to just sit out the storms and wait for a break in the weather. On this occasion I had to wait at least a week, and I was down to my last provisions. It was exhilarating to look out across the stormy sea feeling the full might of the wind rampaging across the long fetch of Frederick Sound. But I was getting frustrated and my tent was being attacked by a very aggressive territorial squirrel that objected to me living on his patch. It was the only clearing that I could find to pitch my tent, and because it was relatively open the forest floor was riddled with the squirrel's burrows. It started chewing holes in my precious "Omnipotent" tent and then it escalated to bombarding it with fir-cones. I had to retaliate and throw them back at him, and the tension continued to escalate from there until I had to declare war on the squirrel. I was always very wary of the squirrels in Southeast Alaska because they were worse than bears for trying to raid my food, and they chewed holes in some of my drybags, with perfect insight into where their favourite snacks like peanuts were located. Eventually I woke up one night and the moon was beaming across a placid Frederick Sound so I made a dash for it and paddled for 14 hours straight to get back to Petersburg before the weather changed.
    Southeast-Alaska-coast11.jpg
  • I always pitched my tent back in the forest where it was sheltered, and there was a thick bed of moss on the forest floor giving me a very comfortable bed. I was always beach-combing looking for either natural treasures like skulls, or flotsam and jetsam that I could use in my camp. One of those items, the yellow bottle crate, accompanied me on many journeys and was useful as a stool and for carrying things. I found the bench back in the forest not far from here. Next to the fire is an old pressure-cooker that I found in the Salvation Army charity shop in Petersburg, and it was an essential part of my cooking gear. I stripped down so it was just metal, and it had a lid that closed and locked rotationally, so I could leave it in the fire without fear of it tipping over. It was solid stainless steel with a copper bottom, so it could take a lot of heat without burning the feed ...too much. Sometimes I had my campfire on the other side of the beach depending on which way the wind was blowing from. It was a great beach for firewood because there was always plenty of driftwood washed up around the point.
    Alaska-camping-kayaking12.jpg
  • Port Houghton is a deep inlet on the mainland just to the north of Petersburg. It was one of my favourite peaceful retreats to find solitude in Southeast Alaska, and to enjoy and photograph the beautiful vegetation. It was my favourite place for vegetation because it has such an array of consummate displays of all the lowland, coastal vegetation habitats: flower meadows bursting with blooms and colours: muskeg resplendent with colour and minute detail, especially in the fall, dotted with inky ponds, and lichen and moss festooned dwarf trees: before the surrounding primary old growth temperate rain forest extends up the flanks of the surrounding mountains. Foraging bears frequent the meadows in the summer or dine on salmon in the rivers in the fall. At the head of the inlet there is a salt chuck  with a rock where harbour seals haul out.
    Alaska-vegetation1.jpg
  • Whenever I was in Angoon, usually at the beginning of a kayaking trip after I had caught the ferry from Petersburg with my kayak, and my gear and food, I always visited the city dump, which was a 20 minute walk from the beach. Sometimes they were having a bath in the ditch alongside the road, and I was able to observe their playful behaviour in the water, although with a little trepidation, because they always seemed to have one eye on me. They seemed to be OK with my presence as long as I just stood in one spot and didn't move around too much.
    Alaska-wildlife-bearAlaska-wildlifeA...jpg
  • Bull moose (Alces alces andersoni), Adam’s Inlet, Glacier Bay National Park and Preserve, Southeast Alaska, USA.<br />
<br />
They originated in Asia and crossed into North America shortly before the Bering Land Bridge between Asia and America flooded about 11,000 years ago, and then dispersed throughout Beringia ( prehistoric Interior Alaska and northwest Canada). About 10,000 years ago an ice-free corridor opened up between the huge continental glaciers that covered Canada, allowing animals like moose, grizzly bears and bison to move south from Berangia to the Pacific Northwest into the continental United States.<br />
Moose subsequently evolved into four North American subspecies (and other sub-species found in Scandinavia and Russia). Alaska is home to the world’s largest, Alces alces gigas, as well as a smaller sub-species, Alces alces andersoni. Gigas, also known as Alaska moose or tundra moose, is found in Alaska, the Yukon and northwest British Columbia; andersoni, or anderson’s moose, is found in Southeast Alaska, the eastern Yukon, and central B.C east to Michigan.<br />
Impeded by mountain ranges, icefields and glaciers, moose did not colonize Southeast Alaska until the 20th century. They are far more recent arrivals than Sitka black-tailed deer and wolves, which moved up the coast from the south about 8,000 years ago as the glaciers melted and land was exposed. Moose from British Columbia accressed Southeast via the river corridors and arrived in the Taku River valley south of Juneau and the Stikine River basin near Petersburg about 1910.<br />
I had a memorable encounter with a large herd of moose in Adam’s Inlet in Glacier Bay in the middle of winter. I was standing on the mudflats at low tide and set up my tripod to photograph the moose on the shore. Gradually they started to walk towards me until eventually I was surrounded by at least 20 moose who were more curious about me than afraid; apparently their protected status in the National Park had made them not fear humans.
    wildlife-12.tif
  • Tenakee Inlet and the small community of Tenakee Springs became my regular haunt for a few years. The feeding whales would regularly appear here late in the summer and September to feed. The small Alaska Marine Highway ferry that travels between the smaller communities stops here, and this is where I often finished my trips and returned to Petersburg. The local inhabitants of Tenakee Springs became very familiar with my arrival in late summer. There is an enclosed natural hot spring at the end of the ferry dock, and I would often take a long relaxing soak there after a hard day paddling with the whales. If I wasn’t out on the inlet with the whales then I would often go looking for brown bears to photograph along the beautiful Kadashan River on the other side of the inlet. There is an old native Tlingit cemetery on the small island in view.
    Alaska-camping-kayaking15.jpg
  • This was one of my favourite campsites. It is directly opposite the native town of Angoon, where I often used to catch the ferry to from Petersburg to start my kayaking trips in the summer. I then usually had a relatively easy crossing to get here. To the right and south of the photo is Peril Strait, which is a narrow passage that leads to Sitka and the Pacific Ocean. Offshore is the submerged Morris Reef, which was one of the regular feeding places for bubble net feeding humpback whales, which were usually the ones that I dubbed "the Famous Five". The converging currents there create strong upwellings and choppy water that made the conditions difficult at times. It was a great campsite because it has a beaches facing north and south with a small causeway leading to a small islet that was cut-off at high tide. It made it easier for me to land  depending on which way the wind was blowing. The islet looks odd in this photo because half of the trees burnt down one summer. I was paddling across Chatham Strait and could see smoke belching from the islet that was such a special lookout point for me. As soon as I landed I found a big empty plastic oil drum on the beach and used it to go back and forth with water to make a fire break to save half the islet. But it was still upsetting for me when I was sitting next to my campfire in the evening watching one tree after another crashing down on the other side, sending up fireworks of glowing embers in the night sky. It was a really dry summer that year and small islands without any groundwater are particularly vulnerable to slow burning fires smouldering in the tinder-dry forest litter. In the foreground is a rudimentary totem and circle of log seats that some Tlingit native people from Angoon must have carved. I had been coming to this campsite for a few years, and was pleasantly surprised to find these here one summer, and they added more unique character to this campsite, as well as the islet with half its trees gone.
    Alaska-camping-kayaking11.jpg
  • Port Houghton is a deep inlet on the mainland just to the north of Petersburg. It was one of my favourite peaceful retreats to find solitude in Southeast Alaska, and to enjoy and photograph the beautiful vegetation. It was my favourite place for vegetation because it has such an array of consummate displays of all the lowland, coastal vegetation habitats: flower meadows bursting with blooms and colours: muskeg resplendent with colour and minute detail, especially in the fall, dotted with inky ponds, and lichen and moss festooned dwarf trees: before the surrounding primary old growth temperate rain forest extends up the flanks of the surrounding mountains. Foraging bears frequent the meadows in the summer or dine on salmon in the rivers in the fall. At the head of the inlet there is a salt chuck  with a rock where harbour seals haul out.
    Alaska-vegetation2.jpg
  • I often used to creep up close to the sea lions hauled out on Yasha Island, just off Point Gardiner at the southern end of Admiralty Island. I could see this young sea lion laying down on its belly, and that it had something around its neck, but nothing could have prepared me for the gut-wrenching sight when it reared up and I could see the full extent of the damage and suffering that this poor creature must have endured. The net had become deeply embedded in its throat as it had continued to grow after first getting entangled with it when it was probably playing with it. One strand of the net passed through its mouth like a horse's bit, and had pulled its mouth back into a horrific frozen grimace. I felt so sickened by the daily torture that this poor animal must have been subjected to, but it also seemed like it had somehow adapted to it demonstrating the incredible resilience of wild animals. Apart from its horrific embedded necklace it looked just as well fed and healthy as the other sea lions. I felt compelled to try to capture it without really knowing how I could hang onto the sea lion to remove the net, but I wasn't able to get close enough without disturbing all of the sea lions. When I returned to Petersburg I reported it to the Dept of Fish and Game, and was glad to hear that they were going there to do a survey, but unfortunately I later heard that they were unable to find the poor animal. I don't know how much longer that it would have been able to survive like this if it was still growing.<br />
This kind of entanglement in fishing nets is a major problem for all marine life, but it must be particularly so for sea lions because they are so inquisitive and playful. A few years later I was working on a whale research boat in Sri Lanka, and we came across two turtles entangled in a big clump of fishing net, but fortunately we were able to free them.
    Alaska-Steller-sealion10.jpg
  • Two of the three Alaska brown bear (Ursos arctos) siblings wrestling in muddy water in a roadside ditch near the Angoon garbage dump, Admiralty Island, Southeast Alaska, USA.<br />
Whenever I was in Angoon, usually at the beginning of a kayaking trip after I had caught the ferry from Petersburg with my kayak, and my gear and food, I always visited the city dump, which was a 20 minute walk from the beach. Sometimes they were having a bath in the ditch alongside the road, and I was able to observe their playful behaviour in the water, although with a little trepidation, because they always seemed to have one eye on me. They seemed to be OK with my presence as long as I just stood in one spot and didn't move around too much.
    Alaska-wildlife-bearAlaska-wildlifeA...jpg
  • They originated in Asia and crossed into North America shortly before the Bering Land Bridge between Asia and America flooded about 11,000 years ago, and then dispersed throughout Beringia ( prehistoric Interior Alaska and northwest Canada). About 10,000 years ago an ice-free corridor opened up between the huge continental glaciers that covered Canada, allowing animals like moose, grizzly bears and bison to move south from Berangia to the Pacific Northwest into the continental United States.<br />
Moose subsequently evolved into four North American subspecies (and other sub-species found in Scandinavia and Russia). Alaska is home to the world’s largest, Alces alces gigas, as well as a smaller sub-species, Alces alces andersoni. Gigas, also known as Alaska moose or tundra moose, is found in Alaska, the Yukon and northwest British Columbia; andersoni, or anderson’s moose, is found in Southeast Alaska, the eastern Yukon, and central B.C east to Michigan.<br />
Impeded by mountain ranges, icefields and glaciers, moose did not colonize Southeast Alaska until the 20th century. They are far more recent arrivals than Sitka black-tailed deer and wolves, which moved up the coast from the south about 8,000 years ago as the glaciers melted and land was exposed. Moose from British Columbia accressed Southeast via the river corridors and arrived in the Taku River valley south of Juneau and the Stikine River basin near Petersburg about 1910.<br />
I had a memorable encounter with a large herd of moose in Adam’s Inlet in Glacier Bay in the middle of winter. I was standing on the mudflats at low tide and set up my tripod to photograph the moose on the shore. Gradually they started to walk towards me until eventually I was surrounded by at least 20 moose who were more curious about me than afraid; apparently their protected status in the National Park had made them fearless of humans.
    Alaska-wildlife-moose1.jpg
  • In my Klepper folding kayak, with sailboat Avalon moored at the Brothers Islands, with Admiralty Island in the background,  Stephen’s Passage, Southeast Alaska, Alaska, USA. <br />
<br />
My Alaskan partner and I worked together at a salmon cannery in the fishing town, Petersburg on Mitkof Island. We bought a 26 ft gaff cutter from an English boat builder who sailed it to Alaska from Oregon. My partner Anne, named it “Avalon”, because of a special interest in Arthurian legends. I then bought a Klepper Aerius 1 folding kayak from a local high-school teacher who did kayaking trips to the Arctic every summer with her fellow high-school teacher husband. I was now fully equipped to explore Southeast Alaska with my partner. The Brothers Islands is a pair of small islands in Stephen’s Passage a short distance from Admiralty Island. It is a beautiful, safe anchorage, with a commanding view of Stephen’s Passage and humpback whales commonly frequent the area. There is a Steller sea lion haul-out a short distance from the islands, where I saw many entertaining performances by those most endearing of sea creatures.
    Whaleman.tif
  • The mouth of the Stikine River with its extensive delta was very near Petersburg, so it was a very convenient area that I could paddle my kayak to in a day. The mountain scenery up there is stupendous, and gives such a breathtaking sense of scale and perspective. There are many shelters and cabins along the river where I used to stay for a short while, and there was always plenty of wildlife to be found including a very healthy population of moose and wolves, and on one occasion I was very fortunate to observe a fisher (Martes pennanti), a member of the weasel family (mustelidae) that I had never heard of before, at close quarters when I surprised it on the front porch of  a cabin that I was staying in.
    Alaska-camping-kayaking10.jpg
  • I bought my Klepper Aerius 1 folding kayak from a couple in Petersburg who were retired schoolteachers. Carolyn and Jay Pritchett were wonderful people who were passionate about the great outdoors, and every summer they conducted kayaking trips up in the Alaskan Arctic. This kayak was Carolyn's kayak and it was a veteran of several trips up to the Arctic. Klepper folding kayaks have been manufactured since 1907, and have been used on many expeditions such as the Germany-India expedition 1923 by Karl Schott, the North Pole expedition 1926 by Roald Amundson, the First Atlantic Crossing in 1928 by Captian Romer, the Atlantic Crossing in 1955 by Dr. Lindemann, the expedition to the magnetic Northpol 1985 by Arved Fuchs and the Circumnavigation of Cape Horne 1989 by Howard Rice. They have a wooden frame, canvas deck and hypalon hull, making them relatively easy to repair. Eventually the deck had so many canvas patches that it looked like a pair of my old jeans. It was badly damaged when it was swept off the deck of my boat in a storm, and I had to completely rebuild the stern, but unfortunately my challenging repair job was completely undone when a brown bear found my kayak and completely destroyed the stern again!
    Alaska-camping-kayaking3.jpg
  • Whenever I was in Angoon, usually at the beginning of a kayaking trip after I had caught the ferry from Petersburg with my kayak, and my gear and food, I always visited the city dump, which was a 20 minute walk from the beach. Sometimes they were having a bath in the ditch alongside the road, and I was able to observe their playful behaviour in the water, although with a little trepidation, because they always seemed to have one eye on me. They seemed to be OK with my presence as long as I just stood in one spot and didn't move around too much.
    Alaska-wildlife-bearAlaska-wildlifeA...jpg
  • Whenever I was in Angoon, usually at the beginning of a kayaking trip after I had caught the ferry from Petersburg with my kayak, and my gear and food, I always visited the city dump, which was a 20 minute walk from the beach. Sometimes they were having a bath in the ditch alongside the road, and I was able to observe their playful behaviour in the water, although with a little trepidation, because they always seemed to have one eye on me. They seemed to be OK with my presence as long as I just stood in one spot and didn't move around too much.
    Alaska-wildlife-bearAlaska-wildlifeA...jpg
  • Whenever I was in Angoon, usually at the beginning of a kayaking trip after I had caught the ferry from Petersburg with my kayak, and my gear and food, I always visited the city dump, which was a 20 minute walk from the beach. Sometimes they were having a bath in the ditch alongside the road, and I was able to observe their playful behaviour in the water, although with a little trepidation, because they always seemed to have one eye on me. They seemed to be OK with my presence as long as I just stood in one spot and didn't move around too much.
    Alaska-wildlife-bearAlaska-wildlifeA...jpg