A Stroll on the Mudflats

Thursday, 19 August: Part II

Instead of going to a beach and sitting down to watch bears immediately, we did something different this morning — we walked across the mudflats to get to our bear-viewing site. It was a welcome opportunity to squeeze some exercise into our day. Not only that, the walk gave us a better feel for the land the bears call home.

Lee drops us off at the beach on the other side of these rocks.

as Eberhard leads us off, i stop to photograph the scenery Looking
out from our landing site.

We started to follow Eberhard, but didn’t make it far when a pair of bald eagles on a nearby cliff caught our attention. As we hurried to get our cameras out of our wet-bags, one of them flew off. I managed to catch a shot or two as the second one took off to follow its mate.

Ever majestic!

The mud was slippery, sucking at our wading shoes, as though trying to stop us from venturing forward. Undaunted, we hooked arms and sallied forth, making frequent stops along the way to photograph the breathtaking scenery.

How can we not stop to enjoy scenery like this?

You know I’m a sucker for reflections; is it any
surprise that I stopped to take a photograph at this pond!

We made our way across the mudflats, wandering through waist-high grasses along the way. We made sure to make plenty of noise so that we wouldn’t surprise any bears that might be hidden from our view. There were signs of bears everywhere, but we didn’t have any close encounters of the bear kind.

Paw prints and fresh scat … good indications that there are bears in the area.

no bears, but we see a juvenile bald eagle. It is so well camouflaged
that we can barely tell he’s facing our way.

We’ve been wading ashore from the skiff since our first day on the Katmai Peninsula. And we’ve certainly waded across some shallow streams in order to reach our bear-viewing spots. But this outing found us fording a swift-moving, deep creek. I was surprised at how strong the currents were. (And even more surprised when a salmon swam right between my feet; it’s a wonder I didn’t jump and land on my butt!) Shorty that I am, at one point, the water was well-past my knees. Arm-in-arm, Mui and I made it across without getting dunked.

This was an experience that has given me a new appreciation for what the salmon have to overcome in their upstream quest to reach their spawning grounds.

No, Mui, I’m not budging another inch until you get out here and give me your arm!

We were rewarded for our efforts by a bear that showed up at our viewing spot within minutes of our arrival.

The bear checks us out …

… and then crosses the stream and disappears.

Left: Why do we wear waders?
Right: so we can do crazy things like this!
(in this instance, mui’s taping salmon with his underwater camera.)

The sow with the triplet yearlings that we’d seen from a distance yesterday graced our presence for a while too. They munched on some grasses on the other side of the creek while the sow watched us carefully. Then, satisfied that we were no threat to her or her cubs, she crossed the creek and started her salmon vigil while her cubs looked on.

The sow keeps an eye on us …

… as do the cubs.

More courageous than his siblings, this cub dashes across the creek to join mom.

Once safely across the creek, the cubs wait for mom.

The sow returns from her fishing expedition, but she's nervous …

… about a boar that is approaching them.

When the boar gets too close, the sow jumps in to show him who’s boss.

The boar got the message and turned away, taking a roundabout way to get to the creek. In the meantime, the sow hustled the cubs back into the rocks and out of our view.

That was our signal to pack up and return to the Single Star. Admittedly, like yesterday afternoon, this morning was also slow as far as bear action was concerned. But we’re not disappointed that we came to Kukak Bay. We really enjoyed our walk across the mudflats. For a few hours, we were the only humans around to enjoy the spectacular landscape. And that was special.

Farewell Kukak Bay!

Bidding Kukak a fond farewell, we weighed anchor for our next destination.