Kasilof River
It was impossible to spend a day on the Kasilof River without realizing that salmon are the center of this ecosystem. Nearly everything we watched depended on them.
We got an early start to float down the Kasilof River to photograph wildlife. We dropped in the water below Tustumena Lake along with many other boats. Almost all those boats were carrying fishermen. The sockeye salmon were swimming upriver and concentrate close to the gravel bars. The fishermen were lined up along the gravel bars, evenly spaced to allow for casting their fly rods, to attempt to catch one of the fish. Since spawning sockeye stop feeding once they enter freshwater, anglers are not enticing them to bite. Instead, they drift a bare hook through the schools, hoping it catches in the fish’s mouth as it moves upstream.
Once they successfully catch a fish, it is filleted and the remains returned to the environment. The entire waterway was lined with gulls and eagles awaiting their chance. The eagles usually waited for the gulls to grab the fish to steal it from them.
I particularly enjoyed seeing the different plumages of the juvenile bald eagles. Although juvenile bald eagles all eventually develop the iconic white head and tail of adulthood, each immature bird seems to wear its own unique patchwork of brown and white feathers along the way. Bald eagles don’t acquire their full adult plumage until they are about five years old, making it possible to see several different “teenage” looks at the same time.
There were a variety of ducks in the water and some loons, but my favorite were the merganser chicks. There were two mother mergansers each with a large group of ducklings in tow. The most dramatic moment came when one mother merganser rested on a gravel bar with her brood. A juvenile bald eagle suddenly swooped toward the family. In an instant the ducklings scrambled onto their mother’s back, and the eagle came away empty-taloned. Apparently scavenging salmon remains was an easier meal than catching alert ducklings.
There were numerous arctic terns, particularly around the places in the river with some rapids. They were also fishing but for smaller fish.
Despite the steady procession of boats and fishermen, the wildlife simply adapted. Eagles waited for opportunities, gulls patrolled the shorelines, terns hunted the shallows, and the mergansers protected their young. It reminded me that while people come to the Kasilof for the salmon, the river belongs to an entire community of wildlife that has been making the most of the annual salmon run long before we arrived.
Today’s gift was watching a juvenile bald eagle discover that an alert merganser mother is a much tougher opponent than a pile of salmon remains.
Moose
After we ate dinner following our day at Wolverine Creek watching bears, two of us joined the photography leaders for an evening search for birds and moose.
Our first stop was a coastal area that usually hosts a variety of birds. As soon as we arrived, we were repeatedly dive-bombed by a short-billed gull. Dan suspected it had a nest nearby, and after watching its behavior for a few minutes, we realized he was right. Nesting gulls are fiercely protective of their eggs and chicks, and this one wanted us to keep our distance. Despite our best efforts, the nest was hidden so well in the grasses that getting a photograph was impossible.
As we continued on, we came upon a small group of moose. The dense vegetation made photography challenging, but I still came away with images I enjoyed. What struck me most was watching them feed. Their large, flexible upper lips work almost like fingers, skillfully grasping and stripping leaves from shrubs. I also found myself captivated by their beautiful eyes, which seemed surprisingly gentle for such massive animals.
Sometimes the best wildlife experiences aren’t about dramatic action. Sometimes it’s simply a privilege to watch moose being moose.
Spawning Fish and Swans
On the way back from our dog sledding excursion, we stopped at a waterfall where hundreds of salmon were battling the current, each attempting one powerful leap after another to reach their spawning grounds. A fish weir had been installed above the falls to divert a portion of the salmon into a hatchery program. Their eggs would be collected, hatched, and the young fish eventually released back into the wild to supplement the natural population. I found myself thinking that the fish entering the weir might be the lucky ones. Pacific salmon die after spawning, assuming they survive the long journey from the ocean back to the streams where they were born. Along the way they face waterfalls, exhaustion, and countless predators. The salmon diverted into the hatchery have a better chance of producing offspring that will survive to continue the cycle.
I rooted for the fish to be successful getting up the waterfall. Some fish made it look easy. Other fish slid back in the water to try again. Other fish were unfortunate to hit the man-made poles above the waterfall or land on the cement at the side of the fall. I witnessed one fish land on the cement but successfully get back into the water after a struggle. I imagined it needed to catch its breath and rest before trying again.
In the meantime, a pair of American dippers were nesting under the eave of the building next to the waterfall. American Dippers are unique among North American songbirds because they routinely walk and swim underwater in fast-moving streams, using their wings to “fly” beneath the surface while searching for aquatic insects and larvae. The parents were flying back and forth between getting food out of the stream and feeding it to the hungry chicks in the nest. There ability to swim underwater even in very cold temperatures is amazing to me.
Some of the fish pooling below the falls until they were ready to try to jump them did not look well. Many of the salmon bore sores and patches of deteriorating skin. By this stage of their journey they had stopped feeding, were living off stored energy, and their bodies were beginning the final transformation that accompanies spawning.They have a long journey from the ocean where they grew up to travel back up the rivers to the place they were born to start the cycle over again. In Alaska, the nutrients carried inland by spawning salmon support everything from bears and eagles to forests themselves.
After visiting the fish jumping the falls, we stopped at Tern Lake. Arctic terns were nesting on the far side of the lake and we could see them gracefully fly and dive to catch fish and return to the nest to feed their young. They were too far away to get great photographs but they were a joy to watch as they make it look effortless. Arctic Terns nest around Tern Lake each summer after completing one of the longest migrations of any bird on Earth. They spend a part of the year in the Antarctica and the other part of the year in the Arctic where they breed.
We were fortunate that a pair of trumpeter swans with a single cygnet swam by us. The cygnet kept tucking under the tail feathers of the parent making it hard to see as a separate entity. Trumpeter swans often hatch several cygnets, so I wondered whether siblings had been lost to predators earlier in the season. Whatever had happened, this little cygnet was doing exactly what it should—staying close to its parents.
As we drove away, I realized the day had been about far more than beautiful scenery. Everywhere we stopped we witnessed the next generation—salmon struggling upstream to spawn, dippers feeding hungry chicks, terns delivering fish to their nests, and devoted swan parents protecting their lone cygnet. Alaska has a remarkable way of reminding you that survival is rarely easy, but life persists through determination and countless small acts repeated generation after generation.
This post was edited to correctly identify the swans.
Sled Dogs
Of all the experiences during our Magic of Alaska workshop, one of the most memorable was landing by helicopter on a glacier to meet teams of sled dogs. This was the third full day of our workshop. As a dog lover, I knew photography was going to take second place that day. Because much of Alaska has little or no snow during the summer, many sled dog kennels move their teams onto glaciers where they can continue training on snow year-round to keep the sled dogs in condition for racing and other winter mushing activities, including the Iditarod for some teams. The helicopter ride made for amazing views of the scenery. Once we arrived at the camp, I was enthralled with the dogs. Most Iditarod dogs are a mixed breed developed for endurance, speed, intelligence, and an incredible desire to run. I started with the puppies and could not take pictures because I was too interested in the dogs.
The dogs were hooked up in the sleds waiting for us. As soon as they were harnessed, the dogs bounced in their traces, barking nonstop with excitement. They wanted to run. The energy reminded me of a carousel horse frozen in place—constantly lunging forward without moving an inch. The moment the sled started, the barking stopped. Now they had a job to do.
Several of the lighter-colored dogs had black markings beneath their eyes—almost like football players wearing eye black—to help reduce glare reflecting off the snow. On my first sled ride, the last dog on the line was a 10 month old learning to run the sled. The youngster often took advantage of every stop by flopping down in the snow for a quick rest before eagerly jumping back up when it was time to run again. Watching this future athlete learn the ropes was adorable.
On my second ride, I learned I was riding behind the kennel’s Iditarod team. The musher couldn’t have been prouder of his dogs. Throughout the ride he talked about his lead dogs, especially the female, Raita and her partner Malcolm. It was obvious these weren’t simply working dogs—they were trusted teammates.
After the rides, I wandered through the camp greeting as many dogs as I could. Every time I stopped to pet one, a neighboring dog would enthusiastically try to recruit me for a visit. I managed to greet six of them before running out of time, but there were nearly a hundred dogs in camp. I could have happily spent the rest of the day meeting every one of them. Their enthusiasm was contagious, and for once, I completely forgot about taking photographs.
The helicopter ride back offered spectacular views of Resurrection Bay and Seward below. I kept scanning the calm water for whales, but none appeared. It didn’t matter. I was still smiling from spending the morning with some of the happiest working dogs I’ve ever met.
Toward the end of the video below, a helicopter is carrying a barrel away from the camp. The barrel is full of dog poop. The camps are required to keep the glacier clean.
Eagles, Crows, and Gulls
Day 2 of the Magic of Alaska workshop: On the way back from our boat tour out of Homer, we stopped at a beach where gulls, eagles, and crows were feasting on fish remains left behind by local fishermen. After filleting their catch, the fishermen leave the carcasses for the wildlife, creating an impromptu banquet along the shoreline.
Watching the interactions between the birds was almost as entertaining as photographing them. On this day, several juvenile bald eagles boldly bullied some of the mature adults away from the choicest morsels. The crows darted in and out with their fish scraps, careful to avoid the clashing of the titans. The gulls provided a constant soundtrack, screaming throughout the feast. Every so often, an eagle perched on the edge of the commotion with an expression that seemed almost comical, as if it were watching the drama unfold rather than participating in it.
One of the things I enjoy most about photographing bald eagles is that immature birds are never quite alike. Unlike many birds that simply molt into adult plumage in a single season, bald eagles spend nearly five years gradually transforming into the familiar white-headed adults. During those years, every bird seems to wear its own unique combination of brown and white feathers. Some have nearly white bellies, others develop patches on their backs or wings, and the amount of white in the tail varies tremendously. Their bills also change from dark gray to bright yellow as they mature. You can often estimate an eagle’s age by its plumage, but no two immature birds follow exactly the same pattern.
This was the first time we saw the mountains on the far side of Cook Inlet emerge from the clouds. I was determined to capture an eagle in flight with those magnificent peaks as a backdrop. After taking what felt like 2,000 photographs, I came away with just one image that matched the vision I had in mind. Sometimes, one is all you need.
Kachemak Bay
On the second full day of our Magic of Alaska workshop, we took a boat out of Homer, Alaska onto Kachemak Bay and visited some of the small inlets and an island where numerous birds were nesting. We saw abundant wildlife and picturesque landscapes. The weather was calm so it was a much smoother experience than our trip out of Seward. We pulled ashore in Petersen Bay and had an amazing lunch in quiet surroundings.
Whales, Stellar Sea Lions, and Harbor Seals
Our first full day of the Magic of Alaska Workshop began with a wildlife cruise out of Seward. The seas were rough, rain showers came and went, and the boat pitched in the choppy water, but the conditions only added to the adventure. We still enjoyed spectacular opportunities to photograph Alaska’s incredible wildlife.
The rough water certainly tested our photography skills. Keeping a moving subject in the frame while balancing on a pitching boat wasn’t easy, yet everyone came away with photographs they were proud of. More importantly, we came away with unforgettable memories. The moody weather created dramatic landscapes, and it reminded us that wildlife doesn’t wait for blue skies. If we wanted to experience Alaska, we had to embrace Alaska on its own terms.
Lisa Langell did a phenomenal job arranging local guides for the trip. The only passengers aboard were the six workshop participants, our two workshop leaders, the captain, and two crew members. With plenty of room to spread out with our cameras and a comfortable cabin to escape the passing rain showers, we had everything we needed for a wonderful day on the water. This is Alaska, after all.
The Steller sea lions quickly became one of my favorite subjects. We were also fortunate to see orcas, tufted puffins, horned puffins, and harbor seals waiting to greet us as we returned to the marina. The day’s grand finale was a humpback whale repeatedly slapping its enormous tail against the water—a spectacular sight that none of us will soon forget.
Eagles
After getting picked up at our lodge near the Kenai airport, Lisa and Dan took us to a lodge that overlooks the Cooke Inlet. Two eagles were sitting in a tree in front of my cabin as I brought my luggage inside. There are large windows that allow for a great view of the inlet and the gulls which fly back and forth continuously and the eagles which hang around regularly. Besides sitting in the trees by the cabin, they rest on top of the large rocks in the water.
We ate an amazing lunch prepared by chef Barb and headed to eagle beach where eagles often congregate. Fisherman dump fish remains on the beach which leads to a gathering of gulls, crows, and eagles to take advantage of the feast.
After leaving eagle beach, we visited an active eagle’s nest with 3 small chicks. I also enjoyed the other bird life and the interesting plants. Perhaps one of my favorite sightings was a young moose.
Breathtaking Scenery
My flights left from Jacksonville on time and I got to Seattle a few minutes early on Friday. The World Cup is underway in the city and it’s a busy place. I took the light rail from the airport to within about a 1/2 mile from Jason’s and Dan’s place. Without luggage, it is a relatively easy walk except for the last block which is up a steep hill. Jason usually meets me at the light rail with his car to transport my luggage. Jason hasn’t used his car in weeks and the battery was dead, so he and Dan met me at the light rail and each took one of my bags. They are in great shape and briskly walked up the steep slope to their house. I successfully made it without needing oxygen.
We had a pleasant evening and Dan and Jason played instruments and sang while I sat and enjoyed. Dan plays the piano and Jason plays the guitar. Dan has a particularly strong singing voice while Jason carries the background tune.
The plant life is thriving and blooming in the Pacific Northwest and it was a joy to walk around and look at the vegetation. I walked to a local coffee shop for a cappuccino in the morning and took my time checking out all the blooming plants.
The next day In spite of the massive crowds at the airport, it was efficient and I had plenty of time to grab something to eat before my flight to Anchorage. The weather could not have been nicer and I got to enjoy seeing the beautiful coast of Washington, Canada, and Alaska. I have made this trip to Alaska several times but it’s either at night or an overcast day and I rarely get to see how breathtakingly beautiful the area is. The coast line is particularly spectacular with the snow capped mountains and complicated waterways along the coast. No movie is better than this.
Once in Anchorage, we caught a small plane to Kenai, Alaska which gave me another aerial view of this beautiful area of the world. The sun does not fall much below the horizon this time of year and the bright light late in the day made it difficult to sleep no matter how tired I was from the flights. I eventually got some sleep and am looking forward to a wonderful “Magic of Alaska” photography workshop with Lisa Langell. I did an Alaska workshop with Lisa in 2019 and I am thrilled to be back for another round.
Felted Fawns
I’m going on travel for a week and leaving Regis with the dogs. I hope to see Jason (my son) and Dan in Seattle tomorrow. The weather may not cooperate, but I am hopeful it will work out somehow.
Before going, I wanted to finish a felting project I had been working on and I managed to do it. I mentioned earlier that I love felting some of my favorite photos and I love many of the deer photos I took in Port Townsend. Recently, I took some nice photos along the Silver River and hope to felt some of those animals when I can.
I find it meditative to felt and it causes me to pay attention to the details of the animal. I like that. I see things I might have missed otherwise.
Linda Burek Photography 