August 11, 2001

Resurrection Bay

One of the reasons I enjoy paddling whether it be a boat on a river or a boat on the sea is the experience of seeing something for the first time. In river canoeing or kayaking the thrill of whitewater is matched by the thrill of turning the river bend and seeing what lays ahead. In sea kayaking even though the turns are sometimes fewer, going around a point of an Island or turning into a Fjord or bay for the first time is a true joy.

Last week I drove down to Seward, Alaska to paddle Resurrection Bay for the first time. It was a trip where almost every time I turned around a point something new and different happened.

Resurrection Bay is located in Kenai Fjords National Park and opens into the waters of the Gulf of Alaska. The weather was perfect with hazy blue skies and only a tract of wind from the Southwest. My goal was to spend three easy days paddling down to Bear Glacier and back.

For the first few miles I paddled amid many Pigeon Gillemonts, and Marbled Mureletts. Several sandy beaches rose out of the water offering a place for hikers and backpackers to enjoy the day. Before the ‘64 earthquake these beaches were larger but most of the land here dropped about 5 feet as a result of the big quake. Across the Bay I could see the Godwin Glacier carving its’ way through the mountain to the sea. Next time I plan to paddle the east side of the bay for a closer look.

After a couple miles I rounded Caines Head point and about five feet in front of my boat a Horned Puffin popped up, looked back at me and swam off. I looked around to see five other Puffins nearby. Usually Puffins are shy birds but these didn’t seem to mind my presence. I was careful to avoid them but as spread out as they were eventually I had to paddle between them. They seemed to take little notice and went about diving for fish.

I was so fascinated by the Puffins I didn’t at first notice the change in scenery. I found that the slopping beaches had quickly given way to towering cliffs. These cliffs revealed the titanic forces of the movement of the earth’s tectonic plates. The strata of rock rather than lying perpendicular to the water rose horizontal as a result of the collision of the tectonic plates forcing them upward. The ocean waves over time had eroded away some of the weaker rock forming deep vertical ridges in the cliffs. The beginnings of a few sea caves had begun but it was high tide so I didn’t try to enter any. Most by the way were only a few feet in length. On the other hand the sea and time had formed one sea arch which I could not resist paddling through. Two fishing boat watched me paddle through and I realize once again the advantage the seakayak offers. The ability to go where so many other type boats cannot.

I camped by a stream on a rocky beach in an unnamed cove. Most of the rock had been pounded into hand sized smooth stones. Someone had taken great pains to clear out the rocks and add some beach sand for a tent site. It must have taken a long time. Thank you whoever you where.

The next morning I was greeted with overcast sky and again very little wind. After a couple miles I saw two sea stacks rising out of the water just off a point of land. Go around? Are you kidding? Of course I went between them, and of course a rough wave caught me in the middle. Not really a big wave but enough the break and make things fun and interesting.

After passing between the sea stacks I noticed the air temperature had dropped considerably and the wind had suddenly picked up. That meant only one thing, Bear Glacier. Bear Glacier is a massive glacier with a 3 mile wide face. A small Moraine in front of the Glacier offers a landing and hiking spot. The problem is the it is a "dump beach" where the waves break just a few feet from the steep beach. I tried at first to enter where the stream from the Glacier melt comes out. I paddled in cautiously only to find myself getting surfed in by a couple waves that in all honesty didn’t look big enough to surf. As I surfed down the surface of the wave the out flowing current quickly grabbed my bow. I committed myself to the broach, braced and rode sideways for a while before pulling off the wave.

I them paddled back out realizing that the combination of wave coming in and the current going out was creating conditions that were more chaotic than I wanted to handle. Later I would hike down and see the current was going out a lot faster than I first realized.

So I elected to go for the dump beach landing. Normally I count waves , figure out their pattern and ride in behind the smaller waves, but this day there was no pattern or rhythm to the waves. Waves just came in different shapes and sizes whenever. I landed O.K. but as I was trying to jump out of the boat a wave surprised me from behind and literally flipped me (not the boat) and I landed head and shoulder first in the sand and surf. I jumped up grabbed the boat and the first words I said were, "gee I am glad no one from Paddlewise saw that!"

I spent the next hour or so hiking the Glacier moraine and watching icebergs float down the stream and into the sea. On group of three icebergs looked remarkably like three humpback whales surfacing to breathe.

I paddled back to the same cove as the night before but chose a different beach to camp on. This one faced the south where the big winter storms bring forth large rolling waves. These storms had taken the rocks and had terraced the beach into several different levels. I camped on the next to the highest level beside a 15 foot waterfall which sang me to sleep. Despite laying on a bed of rocks it really was comfortable. The seas had pounded the rocks so that they were all smooth and rounded off. Not a comfortable as grandma’s feather bed but still very sleepable.

Approaching Caines Head point the next morning I think I discovered the source of the name for Canes Head. The strata of rock in an exposed rock cliff resembled the head of a man sleeping.

Alas all good things must come to an end but not before one last surprise. I rounded Canes Head and discovered the low tide had revealed a sea cave. Not very long at all but still fun to paddle into. Inside I discovered hundreds of sea anemones hanging from the walls, their filaments(?) drawn in waiting the rising tide.

As I paddled into Seward the wind had picked up and for once was pushing me home. A perfect end to a wonderful time at sea.
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Copyright 2001 by Rev Bob Carter.
May not be reproduced or redistributed without author's permission.
Originally posted on Paddlewise mailing list on 8/11/2001.
Republished here with permission.