Welcome to our tour journal. These entries offer a glimpse into some typical Alaska Fly'n'Fish Charters adventures. This is a great place to find out what could be in store for you if you are considering one of our guided tours. This is also a place for anyone just interested in the daily experiences of an Alaskan bush pilot and wilderness guide. The first several entries are concise highlights of a few of our trips.  Just below these summaries are detailed word pictures of bear watching, fishing, and flightseeing trips.

Brown Bears: It was exceptionally good for bear viewing on Admiralty Island. A late spring and heavy snow lingering everywhere above sea level kept the bears concentrated at beach meadows like Pack Creek in the early part of the season. Another factor was the frequent presence of several young bears newly on their own who were raised in the Pack Creek area. They carry the habits of habituation on into a new generation of bears, much to the delight of human visitors. From mid-May until early July we saw an average of 4 bears per trip, and on some tours as many as 7 or 8 different bears --- all this before the official "peak season". The chum salmon were a bit late this summer but by mid-July the bears were all happily feasting on salmon. Our season's "most-bears-seen-at-one-time" was 13 different individuals on July 30. Viewing opportunities stayed good until well into September. On Sept. 21 we watched 5 different bears in our time at Pack Creek in addition to the 18 other bears that we spotted from the air at other nearby creeks in the bear sanctuary, a phenomenal concentration for that late in the year.

While seeing a lot of bears together is always thrilling, some of our more memorable times bear viewing have been with just one or a few bears, on days when we've had the luck to observe some unusual behavior or circumstance. This season's treasured moments have included: a sow nursing her cub within yards of the viewing area; a bear chase over a stolen fish that lead straight to (and nearly through!) the viewing area; and the drama of a sow become separated from, frantically search for, and finally reunite with her small cub. It's a rare privilege to step into the bear's world and share some moment of their existence. While there are no guarantees (it's the real world out there, not a theme park or a zoo) the possibilities fill every day among the bears with wonder. We're already looking forward to summer, and hope we'll be able to share those wonders with you.
 

Freshwater Fishing: The late spring may have been some help to the bear viewing but it did not help the fishing at all. The lakes stayed cold about a month longer than normal, so it took until mid-June before we could find any fish in the creeks. However, since then Butch's clients have enjoyed some wonderful fishing for cutthroats, rainbows, and dolly varden. The salmon runs were a bit late in starting, but once they got going they ran later than usual also, and offered memorable fishing. In some areas bright silver salmon (coho) were still coming into the streams well into October.
 

A Wedding in the Wilderness: On June 17^th Butch flew a small party to a secluded beach in Seymour Canal for an intimate wilderness wedding. It was just the bride and groom, a Tlingit official to perform the ceremony, a close friend to witness, and Butch the pilot (and also the second witness --- we're a full service airline). The heartfelt ceremony took place in the most beautiful church possible. With her rubber boots peeking out from under her gown, lovely Lianna was the perfect Alaskan bride. Ed and Lianna we wish you every happiness, and a life together as grand as the place where you were married.

May 11th, 8:30 a.m.- 12:30 p.m. We know just how the bears feel; after a long, dark winter of inactivity we too are aching to be out exploring Alaska's coastal forest again as it unfolds with the newness of spring. This always makes the first guided tour of the year a special event, and today was no exception. Butch departed at 8:30 a.m. with his clients, Becky and Ted, for the impressive half-hour flight south of Juneau to Admiralty Island's famous Pack Creek bear sanctuary. The day's weather was typical for a land of glaciers and rainforests: mild cool temperatures in the 50's, and the pearl gray sky of a high overcast with occasional sun breaks or misty showers shifting through. From the Cessna in every direction the view was filled with the opulent green of heavily forested mountains rising steeply above marine waterways of polished silver. Although the higher peaks still lay blanketed under snow, down at sea level the new growth in the beach meadows lined every creek delta and shoreline a vivid green. This new growth would draw the bears down from their winter dens, so it was to the beach meadow at Pack Creek that Butch headed.

The day's bear viewing began before the floats touched water. As Butch was making his final approach to Pack Creek a sow and three grown cubs were spotted near the landing site. Butch taxied in carefully so not to disturb them, and soon three people were sharing a short stretch of rocky beach with four large Alaskan brown bears. This was a family group, a familiar Pack Creek sow known as Hanna and her three cubs --- although at this, their fourth spring, the "cubs" were nearly the size of their mother.

Aware but unconcerned by the presence of our group (Pack Creek bears are unusually habituated to people) Hanna continued doing what good bear mothers do: teaching her young where to find food. All four were efficiently digging for clams in a sandy area of the intertidal zone. Using highly tuned noses to locate the clams and powerful front claws to unearth each morsel, the bears delicately popped open each clam, neatly cleaning out the meat and leaving the shells behind. These cubs were now old enough to start fending for themselves, and it is likely Hanna would drive them off over the next few weeks. Juvenile bears just on their own have a reputation for needing to test the boundaries of behavior (bears and humans are amazingly alike in this way). As there are also several other fourth year cubs ready to separate from their mothers using the Pack Creek area, we all may be in for an especially interesting summer.

After the bears moved off, our party proceeded down the beach to the end of the sand spit which fronts the old Stan Price homestead serving as the bear viewing area for the beach meadow. Today however no other bears chose to come out in the open. Still it is a lovely place to sit quietly on a spring morning and gaze out over the meadow, the forest, and the water, listen to bird song and absorb the absolute peacefulness. The remains of Stan Price's tiny cabin and out buildings, a small collection of mossed over, falling down structures melting contentedly back into the forest behind the viewing spit only adds to the sense of repose.

Into such a tranquil scene the sudden spout of a humpback whale blowing offshore seems like the exclamation point to a morning well spent, marking the start of another season. *****

May 11th, 3:00-7:00 p.m. The second tour of the day turned out to be as remarkable as the first, with one very important improvement - I got to go along. My inclusion was due only to the outgoing tide. Butch knew he would need to stay with the floatplane and reset the anchor as the tide fell, so I went along to help guide our clients, Carol and Skip.

Again Butch flew the Cessna south towards the approximately 1700 square miles of Admiralty Island and its 1500 brown bears, the densest concentrations of grizzlies in the world. Because it is the native people of an area who know the true names of places, it is notable that the Tlingit name for Admiralty Island, Kootznoowoo, means "Fortress of the Bears". On their island stronghold it was not even unusual that we spotted four brown bears grazing in various meadows along Admiralty's shores before reaching Pack Creek.

Delaying his landing, Butch circled high above an area of Seymour Canal where he hoped to locate the humpback that had been spouting offshore during the morning trip. Finally, there below us, a white plume of vapor appeared as the 40-foot whale broke the surface to massively exhale, marking its location. Most humpbacks don't return to our waters in numbers until later in the season, so it seemed auspicious to be greeted today by this lone ocean giant.

As Butch shut down the engine to coast into shore our airplane noise was soon replaced by more subtle sounds: the soft crunch of rubber boots on old mussel shells and the call of a loon drifting out over the water. After the floatplane was anchored we four proceeded down the beach to the viewing spit. It was a leisurely quarter mile of murmured small talk and discussions of the hallmark plants found along the beach and forest's edge. At one point I detoured to an enormous spruce whose trunk curved conveniently out over the beach. From the tree's rough bark I removed a few coarse, brown, strands of fur for Carol to examine. Proof that bears love a good rub.

Approaching the beach meadow we quieted so our voices wouldn't disturb any wildlife just over the rise. Sure enough as we walked up to the highest point of the viewing area Butch pointed out a single bear down in front of Stan's old cabin about 50 yards away. The grizzly paid us no attention and acted rather lethargic as if newly emerged from its den or at least its morning nap. Head down it grazed languorously on the protein rich shoots of sedges which bears consume in enormous quantities in the spring. Eventually some movement from our group startled our bear into a few moments of quick action, running up the bank and under the partial cover of an alder bush. Then the legendarily fierce Alaskan Brown Bear lay down and fell fast asleep.

With the tide falling rapidly Butch departed to make sure the plane stayed afloat --- leaving Skip, Carol, and I to enjoy the peaceful scene. The gray sky deepened and drew close, sprinkling us with a light rain for several minutes before moving on. We sat on a log talking quietly and listening to spruce grouse drumming in the forest, a low, resonate hooting that carries for miles. Eagle cries added occasional high notes. In the center of the meadow near the creek some canadian geese were huddled, hugging a small rise for cover and trying to stay inconspicuous. At one point three more geese joined them, gliding in low directly above us with their wings already set for landing. We fell silent as they passed, lifting our heads in unison to appreciate their three perfect silhouettes against an opalescent sky. In the profound stillness the soft rush of wind through their feathers filled our ears. We held our breaths and our silence for a while longer, not wanting to break the spell, suspending the moment before us as delicately as a soap bubble.

Later our bear woke up and came out to share the meadow with us again, completing the afternoon's bear viewing, but not the day's wildlife encounters. As we were returning along the beach to the floatplane Butch called out from ahead for us to look at what was coming our way. Two long, low, brown shapes detached themselves from the line of jumbled sticks and seaweed marking the last high tide and came hurrying toward us. The pair of mink passed within feet of us as they proceeded on down the beach. The boldest one stopped nearby and rose up on its hind legs to return with equal curiosity our stares for a moment before bounding busily on its way. *****

May 29th, 1:00-5:00 p.m.Today's amazing sights started five minutes out of the airport when a breaching humpback was spotted in the waters between Douglas and Admiralty Islands. When 40 tons of whale launches itself from the ocean, the immense splash as it falls back down again is spectacular even from the air. One of Butch's clients, Chelsea, has spent three summers working on tour boats out of Juneau so she has undoubtedly seen humpbacks breach before, although probably not from this perspective. Chelsea was out playing tourist with her dad, Wayne, who was up visiting from California. The beautiful clear weather we were enjoying may not have struck a Californian as unusual, but Southeasters learn to appreciate each sunny day as a gift. Today with every mountain revealed, and sunlight sparkling off the waters and streaming down through the cathedral-like forests this part of the world is as breathtaking as any place on earth.

Because our clients hoped to see bears naturally our first destination was Pack Creek. Searching the beach meadows on the flight over two bears were spotted at Swan Cove, just north of Pack Creek. Upon landing Butch conferred with a friend and two Japanese photographers who were completing a morning of bear viewing. They had been watching a sow and a cub earlier, and had also recently seen a single boar. Our party headed on down to the viewing spit to spend some time watching the same boar graze in the sunlit meadow.

After a time Chelsea and Wayne opted for the shade of a hike to the viewing tower located further up Pack Creek. Although this is not the season when chances of seeing bears at the tower are good, the hike itself through the rainforest is gorgeous. This is especially true on a day like today with sunlight piercing the great towers of hemlock and spruce with shafts of lucent emerald that dapple the forest undergrowth of blueberries, mosses, and uncurling ferns with shifting patterns of shadow and light. The lush and verdant forests of the Tongass are far from most people's images of Alaska, and are another reminder of how this land will surprise you.

After departing Pack Creek, Butch flew down along Seymour Canal looking for more bears or whales, though none were spotted. Then Butch turned north again to take the "scenic" route home, up into the Taku Inlet just south and east of Juneau. The Taku River drainage forms the southern boundary of a huge frozen expanse the size of Rhode Island. Known as the Juneau Ice Field, it stretches east from Juneau over into Canada and up to the north almost as far as Skagway, spilling glaciers all along the way.

To experience the ice field from the air is ultimately indescribable. It begins with the abrupt transformation of the world from known and familiar things. After flying over waterways and shorelines marked by occasional boats and cabins, Butch gradually rises up above the green rim of tree covered mountains to reach the altitude of the ice field. Suddenly you find yourself suspended in a vast unexpected whiteness stretching off in every direction.

Butch continues to ascend up the length of the Taku Glacier. Looking down the tiny shadow of the floatplane can be seen following the dark stripes of moraines running up the middle of the glacier like gigantic highway lines into a dazzling white eternity of ice and rock. The frozen depths reach down thousands of feet, filling every valley to overflowing. The bleached expanses are fissured with crevasses and punctured only by jagged gray spires soaring into the bright blue sky, rock too sheer in places for even ice to cling to. These are the raw peaks of huge mountains buried to their necks by millenniums of countless compressed snowfalls.

In every direction you witness a power that formed the earth itself --- a great frozen flood moving in geologic time. The experience is stunning. Here in this place a human life span is as insignificant as the weight of a single snowflake. The only appropriate response is to gape in wonder while, awestruck and disoriented, you feel yourself reduced to your true size: a mere speck humbly traversing the surface of creation.

Eventually Butch veers down one of the rivers of ice, losing altitude as he skims over tumbling icefalls, and crevasses, some filled with water of a pure unearthly blue. Finally the plane reaches the terminus of the Mendenhall Glacier. At the face of the glacier is a beautiful lake dotted with icebergs, and at the lake's far shore suburbia abruptly begins. Coming into town from the ice field like this is always a little disturbing. It's as if at last the bones of the real world have been mysteriously revealed to you. Then, before you can grasp the meaning of such an astonishing vision, the mask of normality drops back into place. Within a minute's flight time the frozen expanses have been left behind. Below the floatplane tidy little Mendenhall Valley neighborhoods of streets, cars, and houses suddenly appear while Butch descends toward the airport acting as if nothing extraordinary has just occurred. *****

June 1st, 11:30 a.m.- 3:30 p.m. This afternoon Butch and his client Bob enjoyed our first fishing charter of the year. Even when the focus of the tour is on fishing some sightseeing and wildlife watching along the way is inevitable as Butch showed Bob two humpback whales, and later a brown bear, on the flight to one of our favorite fishing spots.

I have sworn not to reveal the names or locations of our fishing areas in these entries. Like all good fishermen, Butch is secretive about such information. Lets just say the day included landing on an impressively grand wilderness lake, then hiking through the lush abundant greenery of the rainforest to a fern edged gem of a stream filled with lively little cutthroat trout. We think Bob went away feeling we had fulfilled our brochure's promise of a memorable day of casting a line into the heart of the Alaskan wilderness. In the end, that is really what it's all about.

While saltwater fishing for salmon and halibut is renowned in Southeast, this is not the part of Alaska that fishermen generally come to for freshwater species. Trophy size fish are not often found in local lakes and streams. Our watersheds are abundant, but most tend to be small, as are the limited number of fish they support. (Except of course when the salmon are returning to their birth streams to spawn, then casting a line can get pretty exciting.) Still, it's a resource that requires a light touch, so we take in only small groups of two to four people and spread out our use through several different areas to keep our impact to a minimum. Fishermen who call pressing for promises of big fish and lots of them are actively discouraged. They wouldn't be happy with what we have to offer.

Ultimately, just being there is the thing. Southeast Alaskan freshwater fishing will not disappoint anyone capable of appreciating the opportunity to wade up to their knees in beauty of it all while engaging a dancing bit of wilderness on the end of a fine line.

*****
 

We're so busy making dreams happen for our guests that we do not have time to write up every tour in detail. They are never the same twice, and each inevitably has it own special moments.  I will attempt to update this page periodically with general comments, or a brief description of outstanding events.Check this page for future updates on our latest guided tour adventures.