Tracy Arm
Glacial patience and a growing vocabulary
Our first full day of explorations in Southeast Alaska found us in front of the calving faces of Sawyer and South Sawyer glaciers within Tracy Arm fjord. Calving? Sounds rather bovine. The calving we speak of refers to the breaking off of large blocks of ice from a glacier which terminates in a body of water. These two glaciers are tidewater glaciers, groaning, creaking and thundering as they fragment themselves into the murky green waters of Tracy Arm fjord. This image shows us practicing our glacial patience in front of the two hundred-foot face of South Sawyer glacier. The rocky peak in the background is over three thousand feet high.
We could see past evidence of the erosive work of the glaciers upon the landscape. A new vocabulary calved from the lips of our naturalists and bobbed around as we sought definitions and the landscape features, which had induced these words. Cirque, an amphitheater-shaped depression at the head of a glacial valley. Arête, a narrow, sharp ridge separating two adjacent glacial valleys. Crevass, a deep crack in the upper surface of a glacier. And not to forget our sorting system for the ice chunks floating around our ship and Zodiacs: icebergs, growlers and bergie bits. Horns were found. As a landscape feature; a sharp peak formed at the intersection of the headwalls of three or more cirques, and on top of the heads of a large group of mountain goats, working their way across the high snowpack.
The larger icebergs became odd still-life fruit bowls laden with gray harbor seal “bananas.” The advantage of curling up like a banana was made apparent later at the evening recap with the use of an improvised “blubber mit.”
The afternoon gave us an opportunity for a different perspective to our explorations. Kayaks, paddles, and a bit of solitude in Williams Cove were combined with the rain forest, bear scat, chocolate lilies and an occasional shout of Yo, Bear!
The day was rounded off deliciously with a wine tasting accompanied by an assortment of fine cheeses and smoked seafood.
At the end of the day, dictionary definitions don’t really matter. The important part is your own experience and the way you choose to define it. Linda Burback, Naturalist
Glacial patience and a growing vocabulary
Our first full day of explorations in Southeast Alaska found us in front of the calving faces of Sawyer and South Sawyer glaciers within Tracy Arm fjord. Calving? Sounds rather bovine. The calving we speak of refers to the breaking off of large blocks of ice from a glacier which terminates in a body of water. These two glaciers are tidewater glaciers, groaning, creaking and thundering as they fragment themselves into the murky green waters of Tracy Arm fjord. This image shows us practicing our glacial patience in front of the two hundred-foot face of South Sawyer glacier. The rocky peak in the background is over three thousand feet high.
We could see past evidence of the erosive work of the glaciers upon the landscape. A new vocabulary calved from the lips of our naturalists and bobbed around as we sought definitions and the landscape features, which had induced these words. Cirque, an amphitheater-shaped depression at the head of a glacial valley. Arête, a narrow, sharp ridge separating two adjacent glacial valleys. Crevass, a deep crack in the upper surface of a glacier. And not to forget our sorting system for the ice chunks floating around our ship and Zodiacs: icebergs, growlers and bergie bits. Horns were found. As a landscape feature; a sharp peak formed at the intersection of the headwalls of three or more cirques, and on top of the heads of a large group of mountain goats, working their way across the high snowpack.
The larger icebergs became odd still-life fruit bowls laden with gray harbor seal “bananas.” The advantage of curling up like a banana was made apparent later at the evening recap with the use of an improvised “blubber mit.”
The afternoon gave us an opportunity for a different perspective to our explorations. Kayaks, paddles, and a bit of solitude in Williams Cove were combined with the rain forest, bear scat, chocolate lilies and an occasional shout of Yo, Bear!
The day was rounded off deliciously with a wine tasting accompanied by an assortment of fine cheeses and smoked seafood.
At the end of the day, dictionary definitions don’t really matter. The important part is your own experience and the way you choose to define it. Linda Burback, Naturalist
