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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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  • They obviously viewed me as a playmate or someone to tease and as soon as they saw me they started their pranks like this one darting towards me at high speed and then veering away as soon as I flinched. Their most annoying and clever prank was to keep picking up the anchor stone that my kayak was secured to on the ledge, swim out to deeper water and drop it so that my kayak would start drifting away and I had to keep swimming after it. I don’t know how they figured out how to do that; maybe it was something that they had already learnt to do from other kayakers, but they certainly appeared to relish my immediate reaction every time they did it. Eventually I had to wedge the rock firmly into a crack in the ledge to stop their merry prank.
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  • Flower meadow bordering a river, Port Houghton inlet on the mainland, Southeast Alaska, USA.<br />
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As a keen gardener and amateur botanist Port Houghton was my Shangri-la. It is a very deep inlet and it ends with a salt chuck surrounded by high mountains. On one side there is a river that goes directly into the tidal inlet, as can be seen in this photo. Between the river and the salt chuck there are beautiful, colourful, flower meadows and closer to the forest there are extensive patches of richly vegetated “muskeg”, sphagnum bogs, dotted with dwarf trees heavily festooned with moss and lichens. It was like a botanical garden that had beautiful features of all facets of the rich vegetation of Southeast Alaska. Because the rainfall there was so high and the conditions usually overcast, the colours always seemed to be particularly saturated and resplendent so that the red of the Indian paint brushes literally seemed like wet paint that had just been applied to them.
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  • This was one of the most incredible experiences of my life. It was a beautiful day that started well when I encountered a group of playful sea lions. They were inquisitive as always and hung around for quite a while. Most of them eventually swam away but one very inquisitive big bull remained with me for a while. It circled me and dived down beneath my kayak so that it could look up at me: then suddenly it erupted out of the sea right in front of the bow of my kayak, and there was the sudden jolt of eye-contact with his big bulging wild eyes that penetrated deep within my primal being. He then swam away and I continued paddling out to the middle of Seymour Canal. Then suddenly I heard a commotion in the distance, and when my eyes homed in on the source I saw the tell-tale dorsal fins of orcas, and then to my dismay I saw my friend on the surface near them: he was being attacked! I frantically paddled out towards the developing melee and wondered what I should do, and even contemplated trying to rescue him. But of course nature had to run its course, and I had to be grateful that I had a ringside seat for such a dramatic wild spectacle, as the orcas continued to ram the sea lion at high speed: I could see an orca cutting a confused furrow of water before colliding with its quarry in a big explosion of spray. The sea lion then reappeared at the surface gasping for breath, which tugged at my heart strings so much that I wanted to intervene, but there was a hungry family of predators that had to eat. Eventually it failed to resurface and it was all over...... but it wasn't because a pod of humpbacks happened to stumble onto the killing stage and they too were attacked by the orcas. I paddled right alongside the conflict and observed the whales rolling onto their sides and flailing their flippers to try to thwart their attackers. The orcas eventually gave up and disappeared along with the whales leaving me all alone highly charged and shaking with adrenaline.
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  • Humpback whales probably raise their flukes up high like this when sounding if they are going to do a steep vertical dive down to deeper water, but less so when they are just going to be swimming at shallower depths.<br />
This photo was used by Athena International in the late 1980s for posters and cards.
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  • This was a young brown bear that I encountered quite frequently at my regular camp at Point Hayes on Chichagof Island. It was often foraging on the beach for food while I was cooking on my campfire, but it would always make a wide detour around me before continuing along the beach. I always had to be on my guard against bears getting into my food, especially black bears. I usually hung all of my food high up in the trees. On one occasion I arrived at a camp too late and I just covered everything up with a tarp. I disturbed a large bear that visited my camp in the night and could feel it’s heavy weight vibrating the ground when it was running. In the morning I discovered that it had “sucked” all of my bananas and pears through a mesh bag that I stored them in and I eventually found my large empty jar of peanut butter cracked open like an egg and licked spotlessly clean.<br />
This bear was well behaved but on one occasion it walked right up to my tent in the forest, and sniffed the air while looking up at my food hanging in the trees. I had cut open a lemon and the pungent smell was just too much for the curiosity of the bear. I talked to it in a calm, gentle voice, as I had learned to do: I had even made a bear fall asleep once while I was setting up my tripod to photograph it. I didn’t want to startle the bear too much so I just bent down slowly, picked up a small stick, and tossed it so that it hit the bear on the nose, upon which it promptly ran away.
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  • Highland cattle near the track from Kinloch to Harris below Askival. The weather could be quickly changeable and bleak while I was on Rum, even though it was still late summer. The misty moorland conditions reminded me very much of being on my local moorland area of Dartmoor in Devon, but instead of shaggy highland cattle, Dartmoor has wild ponies and shaggy versions of other breeds of cattle, although there are a few highland cattle on Dartmoor too. I didn’t see that many highland cattle on Rum but a lot more red deer there. They have been the subject of research there for many years. It has been important in the development of socio-biology and behavioural ecology. In addition to its status as a nature reserve, Rum was designated a Biosphere Reserve from 1976 to 2002, a Site of Special Scientific Interest on 1987, and has 17 sites scheduled as nationally important ancient monuments. Rum is also noted for its bird life. Its population of 70,000 Manx shearwaters is one of the largest breeding colonies in the world. These migrating birds spend their winters in the South Atlantic off Brazil, and return to Rum every summer to breed in underground burrows high in the Cuillin Hills. White-tailed sea eagles were exterminated on the island by 1912 and later became extinct in Scotland. A programme of re-introduction began in 1975, and within ten years 82 young sea eagles from Norway had been released. There is now a successful breeding population in the wild. My most memorable wildlife encounter on Rum was being able to watch one of these magnificent birds soaring upwards through the steep precipitous valley on the seaward side of Askival and Ainshval.
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  • Scottish highland cattle. I come from an agricultural county in the UK, Devon, that even has its own particular breed of cows, South Devons, with a reddish brown colour that almost matches the colour of the soil, not dissimilar to the colour of this distinctive Scottish breed, but that is where the similarity ends because they have been bred for climates at opposite ends of the UK weather spectrum. Whereas Devon enjoys the balmiest weather in the country, the Scottish Highlands and Western Isles, where highland cattle were developed, have the shortest summers and most extreme weather conditions in the UK. Highland cattle are known as a hardy breed due to the rugged nature of their native Scottish Highlands, with high rainfall and very strong winds. Breeding stock has been exported to the rest of the world, especially Australia and North America, since the early 20th Century. They have been successfully established in many temperate, and even in countries where winters are substantially colder than Scotland’s such as in central Europe and Canada. Their long hair gives protection during the cold winters, and their ability to find and graze on plants in steep mountain areas, or on plants, which many other cattle avoid helps them to survive. They have become established as one of the most distinctive trademarks of the wildest parts of Scotland, and one of Scotland’s most successful exports.
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  • Young brown bear (Ursos arctos) foraging for food on the beach at Point Hayes, Chichagof Island, Southeast Alaska, USA<br />
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This was a young brown bear that I encountered quite frequently at my regular camp at Point Hayes on Chichagof Island. It was often foraging on the beach for food while I was cooking on my campfire, but it would always make a wide detour around me before continuing along the beach. I always had to be on my guard against bears getting into my food, especially black bears. I usually hung all of my food high up in the trees. On one occasion I arrived at a camp too late and I just covered everything up with a tarp. I disturbed a large bear that visited my camp in the night and could feel it’s heavy weight vibrating the ground when it was running. In the morning I discovered that it had “sucked” all of my bananas and pears through a mesh bag that I stored them in and I eventually found my large empty jar of peanut butter cracked open like an egg and licked spotlessly clean.<br />
This bear was well behaved but on one occasion it walked right up to my tent in the forest, and sniffed the air while looking up at my food hanging in the trees. I had cut open a lemon and the pungent smell was just too much for the curiosity of the bear. I talked to it in a calm, gentle voice, as I had learned to do: I had even made a bear fall asleep once while I was setting up my tripod to photograph it. I didn’t want to startle the bear too much so I just bent down slowly, picked up a small stick, and tossed it so that it hit the bear on the nose, upon which it promptly ran away.
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  • It felt better to arrive safely at yet another beautiful campsite than I could have ever imagined! I had a wonderful time there before in 1990, especially photographing the colony of breeding seabirds on the cliffs at the northern end of Lunga. It is the smallest of the four main islands in the Small Isles, measuring roughly 2.5 miles (4.0 km east to west) and has a population of around 30, mostly living near the harbour at Port Mor. The other settlement on the island is the farm at Gallanach, and during this visit I was fortunate enough to get to know the family living there, and to have a glimpse of their isolated traditional subsistence lifestyle. The only road on the island, about 1.6 miles long (2.5 km) connects the farm to the port. I camped just behind a really nice sandy beach, where there were often some white horses grazing or walking on the beach. There were plenty of grey seals bobbing their heads above the water and seaweed around the bay. There is a characterful old house there, which is available for holiday rental, and I got to know, and dined with a lovely family staying there. Although it’s such a small community I had a very sociable time while I was there and met some very interesting people. There was a very nice café and shop at Port Mor, that I enjoyed snacking in and meeting some of the locals and visitors. Apart from observing and photographing the breeding seabirds as before I also climbed the main hill on the island, Beinn Airein, 137 metres (449 ft) high. The view out across the choppy ocean dotted with islands was tremendous, and gave me such a feeling of expansive space. I could visually embrace the relentless passage of the strong wind from the distant horizon, whipping up the sea into ranks of advancing whitecaps, before flying up to nip my face with its invigorating salty chill. I was glad that I had braved the adverse sea conditions for another special visit to the Isle of Muck and hope that it won’t be so long before my next visit.
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  • Transport just about anywhere in Madagascar is very difficult because of the lack of good roads and the seasonal heavy rains, but to travel along the east coast is particularly difficult because there are many rivers to cross, and very few bridges that can actually survive the seasonally bad weather. There are rafts that are either moved manually with poles or powered by motorized boats, or people are ferried in the traditional dugout “pirogues”. I was amazed at how stable they make them look, even when they are standing up or perched high up on the stern, because when I tried to paddle one, there was only going to be one place that I would end up, and that was in the water.
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  • Transport just about anywhere in Madagascar is very difficult because of the lack of good roads and the seasonal heavy rains, but to travel along the east coast is particularly difficult because there are many rivers to cross, and very few bridges that can actually survive the seasonally bad weather. There are rafts that are either moved manually with poles or powered by motorized boats, or people are ferried in the traditional dugout “pirogues”. I was amazed at how stable they make them look, even when they are standing up or perched high up on the stern, because when I tried to paddle one, there was only going to be one place that I would end up, and that was in the water.
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  • If I paddled past a sea lion haul-out I always attracted a tightly-packed group of noisy sea lions like a magnet: they would extend their heads as high as they could to get a better look at me. They always stayed bunched together rather like a shoal of fish that employs the "one in the middle" defensive group strategy that relies on strength of numbers to increase an individuals chance of survival. They were very vociferous but always kept a safe distance, unless they dived underwater to get a closer look at me: I could see them circling beneath me and looking up at me with their big bulging eyes.
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  • 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.
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  • This was a frequently enjoyed beautiful view from my camp on a small promontory overlooking Tenakee Inlet. It was good look-out point to watch for the arrival of any whales in September when I usually ended my summer kayaking trips here in time to catch the arrival of the bubble net feeding pods of humpback whales. At high tide the little islet with trees is cut-off for a while. There is an old Indian cemetery with several wooden grave markers on there making it an even more atmospheric look-out point. When the whales are bubble net feeding in September they often feed close to the shore along here.
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  • This is the same place where I was charged by a brown bear catching salmon like this one. I was photographing it and suddenly it started charging towards me. I was still looking at it through the viewfinder until I realised that it was starting to fill the  screen, and that in fact it wasn't actually chasing fish anymore but charging me! I lowered my camera and my first instinct was to stand firm and tall, point at it in a commanding manner, and shout as loud as I could " go back!", which it duly obliged in doing. It screeched to a halt, snarled at me, and then swung around and ran away into the high grass, leaving me frozen to the spot with my heart in my mouth, my eyes and mouth wide-open and trembling from head to foot.
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  • One of the best features of this campsite is that not far back inside the forest was the biggest red huckleberry (Vaccinium parvifolium) patch that I ever found anywhere in Southeast Alaska, and they were unquestionably my favourite berries, especially when they were cooked into a sauce to have with delicious multigrain pancakes. There were also plenty of blueberry (Vaccinium ovalifolium) and some thimbleberry (Rubus parviflorus) bushes, which was also one of my favourite berries. I started every morning collecting firewood and berry picking. There was also a nice cool mountain stream not too far away for collecting drinking water, washing my clothes and having icy cold baths.<br />
I quite often baked bread either in a reflector oven or one in the ground next to the campfire. It very rarely emerged without getting burnt. This campsite was also particularly good for two of my favourite wild plants that I used regularly: wild spinach, also known as lamb's-quarters, white goosefoot, fat hen (Chenopodium album) and sea asparagus or perennial glasswort (Sarcocornia ambigua). Wild spinach is commonly found along the border of beaches and sea asparagus grows in low mats in flat areas flooded by the sea at high tide. Sea asparagus has a salty taste that reminds me of black olives.
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  • 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.
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  • I was now camping near Kinloch Castle built by Sir George Bullough in 1900. His father, John Bullough, was a millionaire from Lancashire, who like many entrepreneurs at the time, especially in the north of England, made his fortune from the Industrial Revolution; In his case as a manufacturer of cotton machinery. After buying the island in 1888 he continued to use it as a sporting estate until his death in 1891, but when his son took over the island he used the fortune he inherited from his father to take it to the next level of upper class extravagance. To build the castle he had to import all of the raw materials to the island. The sandstone used for its construction was quarried in Dumfries and Galloway. At the time there were about 100 people employed on the estate who were paid extra to wear kilts to work on the extensive grounds that included a nine-hole golf-course, tennis and squash courts, heated turtle and alligator ponds, and an aviary including birds of paradise and humming birds. Soil for the grounds was imported from Ayrshire, and figs, peaches, grapes and nectarines were grown in greenhouses. The interior boasted an amazing “orchestrian” device that could simulate the sounds of brass, drum and woodwind, an air- conditioned billiards room, and also a Jacuzzi.<br />
I was fascinated by the place and took advantage of a guided tour. I also ate in the small café at the back of the castle as well as taking a shower in one of the original bathrooms fitted with an innovative plumbing system. Sir George Bullough also used his wealth to travel around the world, and throughout the castle there are interesting artefacts that he collected on his travels, including his large collection of photographs, as he was also a keen photographer. The ballroom, that had a concealed balcony for an orchestra, was particularly atmospheric, and I could visualise the lavish parties that were held there for all of his high society guests from the upper class elite of the UK.
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  • Tongass National Forest, temperate rain forest, Chichagof Island, Southeast Alaska, USA.<br />
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This is a definitive view of the Southeastern Alaska temperate rain forest; you can almost hear the ravens calling from high up on a massy branch. Southeast Alaska is a place that is defined by rain, lots of it, and at any time of the year. Sometimes it doesn’t stop raining for weeks and you can count the days of summer on one hand. If the sun breaks through the pervading clouds then the warmth releases misty serpents that weave their way across the branches and evaporate into the sunshine. It can be a dark and shadowed land but the mercurial interplay between light and water is always there, if you are prepared to wait…..
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  • A sweeping panoramic view at the southern end of the island looking towards a chain of small skerries, that I paddled out to explore. I was camped on the other side of the rocks in the foreground on a grassy ledge overlooking a rocky cove. The cliffs on either side of the last fragment of the island were quite high and very precipitous. This is where I had my next dramatic viewing of basking sharks, because they were swimming very close to the base of the cliff so I was able to look directly down on them, and get a very good impression of their massive size. Once again it was one of those wildlife encounters that is so vividly etched in my memory forever. From my lofty viewpoint I could watch them swimming towards the island and then follow the base of the cliffs as they were feeding.
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  • A sweeping panoramic view at the southern end of the island looking towards a chain of small skerries, that I paddled out to explore. I was camped on the other side of the rocks in the foreground on a grassy ledge overlooking a rocky cove. The cliffs on either side of the last fragment of the island were quite high and very precipitous. This is where I had my next dramatic viewing of basking sharks, because they were swimming very close to the base of the cliff so I was able to look directly down on them, and get a very good impression of their massive size. Once again it was one of those wildlife encounters that is so vividly etched in my memory forever. From my lofty viewpoint I could watch them swimming towards the island and then follow the base of the cliffs as they were feeding.
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  • Shortly after arriving on Mull I experienced some of the wettest and windiest conditions that I have ever experienced anywhere, and that is saying something! I didn’t know it at the time but it was actually the tail end of the infamous Hurricane Katrina. I was still using an old tent that I had used for over 20 years, and when I bought it in Seattle it was one of the most advanced, extreme condition tents available, with its 2 walls connected, and just one main sturdy staking point at each end making it quicker and easier to erect. It was called the “Omnipotent”, and had been tested in high winds in Antarctica, but now that it was 20 years old it was completely “Impotent” in the assault of wind and rain that it was subjected too. It could just about withstand the strong gusts of wind but not the torrential rain, and my tent became flooded, and my equally ancient down sleeping bag rendered into a big bag of soggy porridge. I abandoned my tent and sought refuge in the village hall, where I was able to hang all of my wet gear up to dry. Some of the residents that I spoke to were surprised that I had been camping out in such severe weather conditions and informed me that it was the most rainfall that they could recall in living memory. Once I had dried all my gear out I pitched my tent on a designated camping area overlooking the harbour, which even had the considerate luxury of propane CO2 burners for trapping the bothersome midges. I wasn’t quite sure what it was until I saw the clear receptacle full of midges packed into a dense black cake of their minute bodies. I have forgotten to mention them up until now but they are undoubtedly the living and biting scourge of camping in Scotland. Fortunately it was usually windy enough to keep them away for the majority of the time that I was there, but I do remember on some occasions, particularly on Lunga, that I was glad that I had a head-net to wear.
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  • I was discovering how relentless the prevailing south-westerly winds are from the Atlantic Ocean and how completely exposed the west coast of Scotland is. Although I still experienced plenty of beautiful sunny days during my trip the sea very rarely, if at all, calmed down. The wind blew strongly for the next few days and I had little chance to make the relatively short crossing to the Isle of Muck, so I had plenty of time to visit the lighthouse and explore the peninsula on foot. It was another beautiful place to camp but every day I could feel the might of the Atlantic Ocean on my doorstep, and as much as I enjoyed camping at that dramatic location I was getting increasingly frustrated that I couldn’t continue my journey onwards to Muck. <br />
I’ve always used folding kayaks for travelling, and they are generally wider than rigid kayaks, making them slower but more stable. My kayaks have always had fairly big open cockpits, because I prefer the comfort for extended periods of paddling, and I also have extra equipment to accommodate as a fully equipped photographer, and often need it close at hand. I’ve never particularly liked using spray-decks or spray-skirts, so consequently, in addition to the extra beam, doing an Eskimo roll has never been an option, if I had ever been unfortunate enough to capsize. I’ve never really had to develop so many technical skills as anyone who just uses rigid kayaks, apart from being able to do high and low braces, which I had to do a lot on this trip. Although the wider hull of folding kayaks, relative to their length, affects the tracking, and usually necessitates the use of a rudder, there are always conditions when I also have to use technical skills to assist with steering.
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  • Scottish highland cattle. I come from an agricultural county in the UK, Devon, that even has its own particular breed of cows, South Devons, with a reddish brown colour that almost matches the colour of the soil, not dissimilar to the colour of this distinctive Scottish breed, but that is where the similarity ends because they have been bred for climates at opposite ends of the UK weather spectrum. Whereas Devon enjoys the balmiest weather in the country, the Scottish Highlands and Western Isles, where highland cattle were developed, have the shortest summers and most extreme weather conditions in the UK. Highland cattle are known as a hardy breed due to the rugged nature of their native Scottish Highlands, with high rainfall and very strong winds. Breeding stock has been exported to the rest of the world, especially Australia and North America, since the early 20th Century. They have been successfully established in many temperate, and even in countries where winters are substantially colder than Scotland’s such as in central Europe and Canada. Their long hair gives protection during the cold winters, and their ability to find and graze on plants in steep mountain areas, or on plants, which many other cattle avoid helps them to survive. They have become established as one of the most distinctive trademarks of the wildest parts of Scotland, and one of Scotland’s most successful exports.
    New-Scotland69-Edit.jpg
  • This amazing day was probably one of the most seminal days in my whole life; one of those days, as many were that I can still vividly remember, like the first really close encounter on this day when a whale surfaced right in front of me, but then it stopped abruptly and its massive rotund back rolled like an enormous ball right up against and beneath my kayak without creating barely a ripple. It gave me a sense of exhilaration that I had never ever experienced before. I may have just been paddling on flat calm water but it felt like I was gliding in the air because I was as high as a kite.
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  • Observing sea lions at close quarters at their haul-outs was like going to a circus, because there always so much going on to entertain and amuse. They are such noisy and smelly places, and sometimes I had to crawl through the foul, stagnant rockpools to get amongst them, but it was always worth it. There was often sparring going on between the big bulls, which involved a lot of heaving and wheezing, and roaring. If they weren't sparring then they would be posturing in  a high and mighty fashion with their heads thrown back and their chests puffed out. Younger bulls appeared to congregate in gangs like delinquents hell-bent on mischief, usually directed at the less mobile larger bulls. One of the funniest incidents I have ever seen in the animal kingdom was when there was a big bull teetering on a narrow ledge on a rock-face about 2 metres above the sea. Beneath him there were some mischievous juveniles that were leaping up at him out of the water to nip him on his exposed posterior that he was unable to protect because of his precarious situation. He was getting understandably very irritated, and eventually fell off the narrow ledge into the sea making a big splash: it was hilarious! I also enjoyed watching the juveniles playing in the tidal surges that swept them back and forth along channels between the rocks. Sometimes when I was paddling in big swells with waves crashing onto the rocks I marvelled at how the sea lions revelled in the opportunity to play close to the rocks in sea conditions that were threatening to me.
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  • 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.
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  • The Kadashan River valley is one of my favourite places for many reasons, and for a variety of habitats: it has a beautiful beaver dammed flooded area in the forest not far from the river: avenues of birch trees: and there are very extensive grass meadows and mud flats at the mouth of the river. It is an excellent place to watch brown bears catching salmon in the fall. The Kadashan River flows into Tenakee Inlet where I always used to end up in September to photograph the bubblenet-feeding humpback whales. It provided a beautiful break from my high-octane pursuit of the whales up and down the inlet, as did soaking in the hot springs in the small town of Tenakee Springs opposite.
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  • This is the entrance on the West side that faced Admiralty Island. To the right of the photo you can see the distinctive outline of the hills that creates "the Sleeping Giant", as everybody called it. Later on when I was just kayaking, I still liked to stop here to camp because there was a very good place to camp near where I took this photo from. In the opposite direction behind this beach was a small island that was used as a haul-out by Steller sea lions. Whenever they were there you could constantly hear their rumbling groaning and roaring. There is also a lot of seal and seabird activity around the island, and particularly around the kelp beds. One of the regular seabirds there are pigeon guillemots (Cepphus columba), with their distinctive high-piched squeaking. Humpback whales also frequently feed in the nutrient-rich waters around the island, as a result of the strong upwelling created by strong currents colliding. I had my first close encounter with humpback whales lunge-feeding right next to the rocky shoreline of one of the islands.
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  • Ardnamurchan is undoubtedly one of the dramatic and stunning parts of the Scottish coast. It is very wild and unspoilt, and its remoteness is accentuated by the main access route being just a single-track road for much of the length of the 50-square-mile (130 km2) peninsula. This is a view across the rocks of Eilean Chaluim Cille Bay towards the 36 metre (118 ft) tall lighthouse on the point. The peninsula has great geological and historical interest. The whole northwestern corner of Ardnamurchan contains a complex of underground volcanic structures that originate from a 55 million-year-old volcanic complex. Small areas of lava that that were ejected onto the surface are found in some parts of the peninsula. At least seven other similar complexes of the same tectonic episode are dotted up the west coast of Britain. The sub-concentric rings of the volcanic complex can easily be seen in satellite photographs and topographic maps, though they are less obvious on the ground.<br />
In 2011, a Viking ship burial, probably from the 10th century, was unearthed at Port an Eilean Mhoir on Ardnamurchan. Grave goods buried alongside a Viking warrior found in the boat suggest he was a high-ranking warrior. He was found buried with an axe, a sword with a decorated hilt, a spaer, a shield boss and a bronze ring pin. Other finds in the 5 metre long (16ft) grave included a knife, what could be the bronze tip of a drinking horn, a whetstone from Norway, a ring pin from Ireland and Viking Age pottery. Another Viking ship burial was also discovered in Cul na Croise on the peninsula
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  • Beaver dam flooded area of western hemlock (Tsuga heterophylla) and Sitka spruce (Picea sitchensis) temperate rain forest, with devil's club (Oplopanax horridus) and western skunk cabbage (Lysichiton americanus), Kadashan River Valley, Chichagof Island, USA.<br />
The Kadashan River valley is one of my favourite places for many reasons, and for a variety of habitats: it has a beautiful beaver dammed flooded area in the forest not far from the river: avenues of birch trees: and there are very extensive grass meadows and mud flats at the mouth of the river. It is an excellent place to watch brown bears catching salmon in the fall. The Kadashan River flows into Tenakee Inlet where I always used to end up in September to photograph the bubblenet-feeding humpback whales. It provided a beautiful break from my high-octane pursuit of the whales up and down the inlet, as did soaking in the hot springs in the small town of Tenakee Springs opposite.
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  • 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.
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  • Humpback whales (Megaptera novaeanglia) cooperative feeding using a bubble net), Morris Reef, Point Hayes, Chatham Strait, Southeast Alaska, USA.<br />
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This was my first successful entry in the BBC Wildlife Photographer of the Year Competition. I was Highly Commended for this photo of a lunge-feeding whale in the Endangered Species category in about 1994.
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  • The lighting for photographing humpback whales in Southeast Alaska is unique, with a backdrop of snowy peaksmountains and forest-clad mountains frequently cloaked in wisps of ethereal mist, the rainbows There was commonly extensive cloud cover but any chinks of light that were able to break through the gloom seemed to highlight the outline of the whales and illuminate their plumes of transitory breath. The effect was even more pronounced when they were set against a backdrop of dark, forested mountains.<br />
This photo was Highly Commended in the Endangered Species category of the BBC Wildlife Photographer Competition in 2002, the same year that I won the Mammal Behavior category with a photo of a lunge-feeding whale, also taken in Tenakee Inlet.
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  • This was my first successful entry in the BBC Wildlife Photographer of the Year Competition. I was Highly Commended for this photo of a lunge-feeding whale in the endangered species category in about 1994.
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  • These two humpback whales were members of a cooperative feeding group using bubble nets to herd and catch shoals of herring. There are submerged reefs in this area that they were working for a while, and it is most likely that they were breaching to create panic and shock waves to herd the herring against the reef and shoreline. I witnessed this behaviour several times with cooperative feeding pods when some of them either breached or lobtailed in unison in strategic locations to herd the shoal of herring into a bay, against a shoreline or submerged reef. I once witnessed five whales breaching simultaneously. It's incredible how they manage to coordinate their breaching over distance: another example of their highly developed social behaviour and communication.
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  • Based on differences in their lifestyles and food preferences, orcas are characterised as "resident" and "transient". These are transient orcas that were probably hunting for seals up in the glacial inlets of Glacier Bay. Transient orcas generally form smaller and more variable social groupings than residents, roam over a larger area of the coastal waters, and their appearance in particular places is not so predictable. They feed primarily on sea mammals such as seals and sea lions. The name "killer whale" probably stems from observations of transient orcas hunting.<br />
Resident Orcas.<br />
"Residents" are more predicatable because they frequent the same areas where they have a regular source of food in the summer and fall. They feed on salmon, live in close and extended family groups (matrilines and pods) and are highly social. Families can be distinguished from one another by their dialects.
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  • Muskeg is an acidic soil type common in Arctic and boreal areas, although it is found in other northern climates as well. Muskeg is approximately synonymous with bogland, but "muskeg" is the standard term in Western Canada and Alaska, while 'bog' is common elsewhere. The term became common in these areas because it is of Cree origin; maskek meaning low-lying marsh.<br />
Muskeg consists of dead plants in various states of decomposition (as peat), ranging from fairly intact sphagnum moss, to sedge peat, to highly decomposed humus. Pieces of wood can make up five to 15 percent of the peat soil. Muskeg tends to have a water table near the surface. The sphagnum moss forming it can hold 15 to 30 times its own weight in water, allowing the spongy wet muskeg to form on sloping ground.Muskeg forms because permafrost, clay or bedrock prevents water drainage. The water from rain and snow collects, forming permanently waterlogged vegetation and stagnant pools. Muskeg is wet, acidic, and relatively infertile, which prevents large trees from growing, although stunted lodgepole pine, cottonwood, some species of willow, and Black Spruce are typically found in these habitats. It needs two conditions to develop: abundant rain and cool summers. A dead plant that falls on dry soil is normally attacked by bacteria and fungi and quickly rots. If the same plant lands in water or on saturated soil, it decomposes differently. Less oxygen is available under water, so aerobic bacteria and fungi fail to colonize the submerged debris effectively. In addition, cool temperatures retard bacterial and fungal growth. This causes slow decomposition, and thus the plant debris gradually accumulates to form peat and eventually muskeg. Depending on the underlying topography of the land, muskeg can reach depths greater than 30 metres (100 ft).
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  • The west coast of Scotland is one of the best places in the world, along with my home region of the SW of England, for seeing basking sharks, the second largest fish in the world. They can grow up to 10m (33ft) long. They are an open water shark, but move closer to shore in summer to feed on the plankton bloom. They are usually solitary, but occasionally gather in aggregations of 100 or more where there are large concentrations of plankton, usually where there are tidal fronts where different water masses meet. They are filter feeders, and in 1 hour they can filter 1.5 million litres (330,000 gallons) of water through their gills. They are highly migratory, but long-distance tracking of individuals only began recently, and it is still unknown whether they migrate between lower and higher latitudes, or between deep and shallow water. Their livers contain a large proportion of oil typical of deepwater sharks, which may indicate that they spend some time in deep water. Very little is known about their breeding. They probably mature late and reproduce slowly, making them particularly vulnerable to overfishing, especially as fisheries catch more females than males. They were once fished commercially on a small scale around Scotland for their huge livers, which contain oils formerly used in various industries, with a peak recorded catch of 250 sharks in 1947. But in response to dwindling numbers the basking shark has been fully protected since 1998. <br />
Because they swim at the surface, these magnificent sharks are easily harmed, either deliberately or accidentally. Currently, potential threats include bycatch in fishing nets, and disturbance or impact by jet-skis, speedboats and other vessels. Globally its conservation status is currently listed as vulnerable.
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  • Three humpback whales (Megaptera novaeanglia) blowing simultaneously, Tenakee Inlet, Southeast Alaska, USA.<br />
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The lighting for photographing humpback whales in Southeast Alaska was exceptional, as was the backdrop of forested mountains. There was commonly extensive cloud cover but any chinks of light that were able to break through the gloom seemed to highlight the outline of the whales and illuminate their plumes of transitory breath. The effect was even more pronounced when they were set against a backdrop of dark, forested mountains.<br />
This photo was Highly Commended in the Endangered Species category of the BBC Wildlife Photographer Competition in 2002, the same year that I won the Mammal Behavior category with a photo of a lunge-feeding whale, also taken in Tenakee Inlet.
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