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Author Archives: Cathy
Write What You Want
Two posts over the last week or so have me thinking about my writing. I’m worried about how it will sell. Not worried in a hand wringing sort of fashion, but concerned.
First, there was a post on Karen Knows Best about whether traditional romance readers were ready for lesbian romances. The other post, over at The Galaxy Express, posed the question about publishers being “ashamed” of the science fiction romance subgenre. Can you guess why I’m a little concerned? Yep, Bad Girl, the manuscript I’m currently peddling, is a science fiction romance (or SF with romantic elements, depending on how you see these things) that has a relationship between two women. If the commentary/information regarding the desire for and treatment of F/F romances and SFR are any indication, I may be out of luck.
Marketing for the subgenres separately is tough. I know. It’s very possible I’m setting myself up for a lot of rejection and frustration. I know. Publishing for a newbie in ANY genre is tough. I know.
But you know what? It’s the story I wanted to write. It’s the story that made me think about love and sacrifice. About who we are, who we’re meant to be, and who we’re meant to be with. There are good guys who aren’t really all that good, and bad guys who aren’t all bad. There’s betrayal and emotional abandonment, forgiveness and redemption. While I was writing, the setting on another planet, in a future time, made it fun. As the relationship between my two heroines began to develop, it made me think. Not about how I’d market this story, but how I could make it the best possible story I could write.
Now that Bad Girl is seeking a home, I do consider the marketability of a F/F SFR (I take my career, such as it is, as seriously as the next writer.). One of my crit partners has warned me that it will be a tough sell. She kindly recommends that my next WIP be more marketable because she wants to see me published. I love her and appreciate her concern, and the current WIP is more “traditional”. But even if Bad Girl doesn’t get any further than my hard drive, it’s a book that wanted to be written, and I’m really glad I wrote it.
Grow Up Already
Since I have an outside-of-the-house job, irregular as it may be, I actually have to dress like a grown up now and again. Sometimes for several days in a row. Crazy, I know. But because I didn’t have any real need for normal, every day clothing, my serviceable wardrobe dwindled dramatically over the last seven years. If something got worn out, or stained (slob that I am, likely), or didn’t fit any more (sadly, this was *most* likely), I didn’t bother replacing it. Why spend money when I didn’t really need to? I’ve never been concerned with fashion, and luckily we’ve lived in places where casual was acceptable for every occasion, so jeans and tee shirts or a sweater worked for me.
Until now. Now, not only do I have to wear something other than jeans sometimes, the clothes need to make me look like a grown up. No one would mistake me for any of the kids at either school, but I have to at least try to reflect my reaching adulthood. Tee shirts with cute pictures and snarky phrases won’t do. The staff at the school would give me “looks.” Not that they’re snobby or anything, they are all very nice people, but I need to make the effort and present myself properly.
At the same time, I don’t have a lick of fashion sense (which works well with the stand-by jeans and tee shirt outfits) and like to be comfortable (again, jeans and tees fit here). I settled on ordering some nice tees online, a pair of pants and a new pair of shoes. While still casual, I can dress up the tees and the pants aren’t jeans. The shoes are more of a question mark as far as fit and style go. They may have to go back. We’ll see.
I doubt anyone seeing me in my version of adult attire will swoon over my choices, but I won’t embarrass anyone either. Hopefully they’ll just appreciate that for where I’m from, my new duds mean either I won the lottery or have a court date.
Iditarod–The Last Great Race Run By Great 2- and 4-Legged Athletes
One of the biggest, if not THE biggest, events here in Alaska is the Iditarod sled dog race. The Last Great Race, it pits man and his best friends against the elements of the Last Frontier. While the rest of us are snuggling close to our wood stoves or sitting comfortably in our easy chairs as the central heating kicks on, these brave and hearty men, women and dogs are traveling over 1,000 miles across some of the roughest terrain around, during some of the harshest weather.
About ten days ago, a field of 65 mushers, each with a team of 16 or so dogs, set out from Anchorage (well, Willow is the official start. Anchorage was a ceremonial start.) to Nome. Both human and canine athletes were prepared for anything the Alaska wilderness could throw at them. They hoped. Checkpoints, GPS, and aerial monitoring, veterinarians and doctors, assure that the teams are as safe as possible. Still, some ran into difficulties, a couple suffered broken equipment, and sadly some dogs were lost. More than a few mushers scratched, for various reasons, but at this writing nine are in Nome and another 40 are still making their way there.
The winner this year, Lance Mackey, took his third Iditarod Championship in a row. He joins the three-peat ranks of mushing legends Susan Butcher and Doug Swingley.
Lance and his team were the first into Nome, but all the men and women and dogs who set out are to be commended and respected for their toughness and spirit. Read some of the stories about sleds turning over and mushers smacking into trees and rocks. Of dogs getting tangled, of one that ran off in fright and was thankfully returned to his musher. Of the dogs that died and how the mushers grieved for lost friends. BTW, this is not the place to complain that dog sled racing is inhumane or cruel. A good musher treats his team with the utmost respect and care. They are his friends and his lifeline. Man and dog are truly teammates, and if you’ve ever seen an interview with a musher as he or she raves about the greatness of their dogs, or grieves at the loss of one, you will understand the heartfelt connection there.
So congratulations to Lance and his team, but the entire field, even those who scratched, deserve major kudos just for taking that first step onto the trail.
Ah, Spring
Spring is a week away, though you wouldn’t know it by looking outside. The several feet of snow we’ve accumulated over the winter is being added to by a deceptively light snowfall. Invariably, I will see this kind of snow coming down and think to myself, “Oh, this won’t be much at all.” And then the snow will continue to build for hours and hours as I delude myself some more. “It *must* be stopping soon, as there is barely any snow falling at all! Stop, snow. Stop stop stop stop STOP!”
It rarely heeds my cries.
So while the calendar says spring is only a week away, we know better.
Despite the faulty calendar, it is Spring Break here in the semi Frozen North. The kids are out of school until the 23rd. I won’t have to dread an early morning call from the school secretary asking me to substitute for an ill teacher or aide. (Besides, she already has me scheduled for three days the week we return.) Sleeping in is a favorite activity, and now that the kids are old enough to get their own breakfasts and keep themselves occupied without my wondering if the quiet means something needs my immediate attention, I can stay in bed until only my bladder forces the issue.
As an added bonus, I have four days without kids or hubby (he took them to visit some friends in our former town and to the Big City to buy groceries and a new washer–Yay! new washer! Oh, that is as sad as it sounds isn’t it, to be excited about a washer…). I plan to enjoy every peaceful, undemanding, ice cream for dinner moment. And tonight there is a blues/jazz musician in town I want to go hear (ETA: If the damn snow stops.). He played for the kids at school yesterday. Very talented, but I can’t recall his name. Somehow we get the amazing artists and musicians to come visit our small, relatively remote town, and I’d be a fool not to take advantage of the opportunity (if the damn snow stops). But that’s fodder for another post.
I also hope to get some writing and housework (ha!) done. If it warms up some, perhaps I’ll be able to scrape the inch or so layer of ice off my front walk. But by looking at the temperature do-dad at the corner of my computer screen, and at the thermometer outside my front door, I doubt that will happen today. Or even tomorrow. No worries. Spring will come. Eventually.
Saturday Night is Sci Fi Channel Night
Last time, I posted about Friday night sci fi goodness. For the most part, Dollhouse has been okay. A little slow the first episode, but the second was action-packed. It gave us some interesting background on the facility and a nice hint of what’ll be going on with Echo. I’m not seeing a lot of the Joss Whedon snappy dialogue I’d expected, but it pops up here and there. For example: “We have a situation. The kind you need to shoot at.” BSG is, well, BSG. Great human drama in the depths of space. Anyone beside me want to smack Saul? Yeah, I get the whole thing about Ellen, but still. He was an ass. And while Terminator hasn’t been the best I’ve seen I can wait for the big POW I’m sure will occur. Besides, my girl crush on Lena Headey and my love/fear of Shirley Manson as Catherine Weaver compels me to watch.
On to the flip side of being a sci fi fan.
One of my family’s (okay, one of MY) favorite activities is to watch the Sci Fi Channel’s original movies. It’s not because they are nuggets of science fiction brilliance. In fact, it’s for the complete opposite reason. Now, before I get blasted for admitting I mock these movies, let me just say that I love them for what they are. I know they are lower budget films. I know that the special effects required to make the average movie-watcher go “oooh….ahhh….” aren’t there. Funky CGI? Check. Guy in bad makeup and hairy suit? Check. And I’m more than half sure the cast and crew making these films are doing so with their tongues firmly planted in their cheeks. How could they not be? They’ve read the script, right?
So let’s break down a bit of the typical Sci Fi Channel original movie formula.
Plot: Generally, there is some beastie out to eat the humans and the human must somehow stop it. Simple, and it allows for gobs of action, blood, and mayhem. Beasties range from genetically altered snakes (ex: Anaconda and its sequels. Yes, I said sequels.), to mythological beings (ex: Wyvern, Hydra, Yeti, Abominable {tho it was more Sasquatch-y, but maybe they were playing word games. Oooh, how clever!}), to aliens (ex: Alien v. Hunter, Alien Lockdown, Alien Siege). No matter the creature, they are never vegetarians and there will be a number of humans with weapons trying to survive long enough to kill it. There is often a secondary plot running through the movie, usually involving the angst of the main character in some way.
Characters: You almost always know from the get-go who will live and who will die in an sf movie. If there is only one female character, she will usually live. If there’s more than one, the younger, prettier one lives. Hey, I don’t like it either, being not so young and pretty myself, but this is how the formula works. The hero is usually the guy the heroine likes, if not at the beginning then by half way through the movie. And yay on the Sci Fi Channel, because much of the time the hero isn’t the guy with the broadest shoulders and largest guns. It’s the computer geek or the biology professor who figures out how to thwart the beast in question. And there are times when the hero/heroine roles are “reversed” and it’s the woman who does the saving. There seems to be more gender equality in sf than in most genres, so for that alone I commend them.
How do you know who will be killed in a sf movie? It’s the operative who announces this is their last mission before they retire to the family farm in Iowa or wherever. It’s the soldier who, in the quiet moments before battle, pulls out the worn, creased picture of his wife and/or child. It’s the overzealous jerk who is gung-ho and wanting to just shoot everything but ends up being the one to rush the beast, sacrificing themselves so the others can escape. Though sometimes, this one gets a pass.
Usually one or more of the characters does something completely stupid, jeopardizing themselves and/or the rest of the group. This ticks me off and they are the first ones I like to see eaten. If they aren’t eaten, they’d better damn well have some kind of “Oh, I’ve been such an ass my whole life” revelation by the end. Even then, more often than not, I’d rather see them being eaten.
I don’t expect spectacular acting (sometimes my 8 year old telling me her tummy hurts and she just can’t go to school on the day of a test is more believable). Most of the movies use a cast of unknowns, and often the writer is also in the film. He may even be director and coffee guy. It comes with the lower budget territory. Let’s just say I admire these actors for their efforts.
But here’s something that has stunned me: the number of well known actors who have starred in more than a few of these movies. And I’m not talking about movies made years ago when they were first getting their resumes filled out. Rise, about vampires, stars Lucy Liu (yes, that Lucy Liu) and Michael Chiklis (you know, from “The Shield” on FX, played The Thing on Fantastic Four). It was filmed in 2007. There are other Sci Fi Channel movies where I recognize actors from stints on TV or from smaller movie roles. They aren’t making millions per film like Brad or Angie, but seem to be in a fair number of productions. So what on earth possesses them to take roles in a film like Rise or Wyvern or Anaconda? Did the producer have incriminating photos? Were they just in it for the fun? Certainly not to be recognized during awards season.
Films set in Alaska hold a special place for us. Most recently we watched Wyvern, about a dragon-like creature freed from a glacier, and another about South American killer ants that took up residence underground near an Alaska volcano. We enjoy them because of the way Alaska is depicted. They don’t insult the people here (though filmmakers, please keep in mind not ALL Alaskans wear fur all the time, decorate with moose antlers, and tote their 30-06’s to town to do grocery shopping) but we like spotting the mistakes they make. For example, in the one about the killer ants, it showed one of those green road signs telling you how far it is to the next town. They had the fictional town listed at 4 miles and Nome at 287, or some such. The problem: There is no road to Nome that is 287 miles long. But I guess Nome was recognizable and remote enough to give the viewer the sense of where they were and how far from “civilization” the action was set. Sure. Also, the surrounding area almost always looks suspiciously like the west coast of Canada, all green and full of trees, when it’s supposed to be set in the northern part of Alaska, which is tundra and not so green or tree-filled.
Once in a while I am pleasantly surprised by a film on this network. Last week, we watched Splinter. In the previews it promised to be scary and gruesome, like most Sci Fi Channel fare. I was ready to get all mocky but I enjoyed it for the most part. The beastie was determined to eat the humans it had cornered, and the hero and heroine were pretty much established from the opening, so it followed the formula. But the acting was decent and the characters behaved with some intelligence. OK, the disembodied hand reminded me of a demented Thing from “The Addams Family” but I said I was surprised at the quality, not stunned into calling the Academy Awards committee to demand it be nominated.
As goofy as I find most of the Sci Fi Channel’s movies, I’ll still watch them. And during commercial breaks they often put on Sci Fi Channel tips like “If you open the door to another dimension, be sure to know how to close it again.” Or, “If it walks quietly, it probably eats noisily.” Or, “If the thing living under your porch ate the dog, it’s probably not the cat.”
Those alone are worth the price of my cable bill.
Friday Night Sci Fi Goodness
The advantage of living in a small, relatively uneventful town is that I don’t feel terribly guilty about watching TV. Sure there are events scheduled throughout the year, friends to hang with and outdoor activities to do (ha!), but for the most part my family and I stick around the house. This means interacting with them, of course, which I do, but it also means I can set aside evening time for my favorite shows. And tomorrow night, I will hit the Trifecta of Sci Fi Television Viewing! Break out the popcorn and soda-pop! I’m so excited, I think I just peed a little.
Friday (2/13) marks the mid season return of Terminator: The Sarah Connor Chronicles as well as Joss Whedon’s return to television with his new series Dollhouse, both on Fox.
Despite its less than rave reviews, I have enjoyed Terminator since it began last year. It’s tough for a television series to carry the burden of being the offspring of a successful movie franchise, but I feel this one has managed nicely. Scary robot dudes trying to enslave humanity? Check. Time-traveling soldiers trying to protect their future leader? Check. Lena Heady and Summer Glau as two of the most kick-ass women on network TV? Check and check. The premise of the movies is maintained without losing the high-octane action, but the slower pace of a television series allows fabulous characterization. For example, for the first season and then some, Sarah Connor (Heady) is continually “on”. She has to protect her son no matter what and does so with the ferocity of a mother lion. As I watched, I kept thinking, this woman is going to blow. It didn’t happen right away, and I’m glad she was shown as such a strong person. Events kept pushing and pushing at Sarah, and she held tough, as she needed to. Until she started beating the “dead” robot’s chip. The buildup and eventual display of her frustration added to the character. Did she realize her fierceness kept her and her son apart emotionally? Can she and John have a normal(ish) mother-son relationship? At the same time, they still have some Skynet baddies to overthrow. Geez, raising a teen is tough enough without having someone out to kill him.
Speaking of humanity, Cameron (Glau) is a machine who displays glimmers of humanity now and then. I think this is a nice reflection of Sarah’s situation. It’ll be interesting to see how that plays into future episodes.
After Terminator is the premiere of Dollhouse. I have heard little more than it’s premise, which sounds cool, and I also like Eliza Dushku (Echo, in Dollhouse, Faith in Buffy the Vampire Slayer series, and Tru in Tru Calling). And Joss Whedon? Well, he is a god as far as I’m concerned. The man writes perfect snickerdoodle dialogue: snappy and golden. I watch Firefly and Serenity over and over again mostly for the dialogue. I would give an arm to write half as well as he does. So I have high hopes for Dollhouse. I’m sure I won’t be disappointed.
Battlestar Galactica is also on Friday night. I’m late coming to this series and need to rent the previous seasons to complete the goodness, but I am totally hooked and greatly disappointed it will end in a few weeks. The ride had been short but phenomenal. Unfortunately, BSG and Dollhouse are on at the same time. We’ll have to decide who gets watched and who gets recorded. It will be a difficult decision. But no worries, whichever is recorded will be seen immediately following the other. Of that there is no doubt. ETA: Dollhouse and BSG are not on at the same time afterall. Yay! But I had to pick up DD #2 at a friend’s and missed the first 15 minutes of Dollhouse 🙁 I’m sure I can find it on Hulu or the Fox site.
So how can I justify three hours of endless television viewing where I all but ban my kids from the room (They are welcome to watch if they sit and watch, not come in the middle and ask me what’s going on) and make the poor dogs wait until everything is over before letting them out to pee? Research. No, really. What these three shows have in common are strong female characters and amazing premises. When I write, I want my characters to be like these women, I want my story lines to grab the reader and not let go. So while it may look like I’m mindlessly gazing at the screen, I’m actually learning characterization and plotting from some spec fiction masters of today.
What does the buckets of popcorn and other junk food goodness I consume have to do with that? Nothing. Oh, I mean…A girl has to keep her strength up, right?
Next time I’ll go into my family’s (okay, mine, actually) favorite Saturday evening entertainment: Sci Fi Channel original movies. Let’s just say the expectations for those shows are a little…lower.
Theme Me Up, Scotty
I’ve stated on my website that I’d like folks to read my work and enjoy it, but not necessarily search for any deeper meaning or theme hidden within the words like some painful “Where’s Waldo?: The Flashbacks to High School English Class Edition.” I just want to write fun stories with interesting characters. (And hopefully someone will pay to read them at some point.)
But the other day, as I was figuring out what to do next while I have my current manuscript out on submission (keep your fingers crossed and sacrifice a few chickens for me, will ya?), I made a list of my work and had one of those Oprah “a-ha” moments. Each title I jotted down naturally made me consider the story and I realized I do, despite all my protesting to the contrary, have a theme running through them. Maybe I didn’t realize it at the time I wrote the bit for my website because there weren’t enough samples to consider. In scientific experiments/data collection, it’s imperative that there are sufficient numbers of test results to compare to each other to allow you to say, “Yes, this hypothesis is true (or not).” And then, of course, the scientist needs to actually be looking for something. Maybe I wasn’t looking for the way my diverse genre choices were connected until then.
So far, I’ve completed four novels. Two are sword and sorcery fantasy, one is a paranormal women’s fiction, and the latest is a science fiction romance. The current WIP is a shapeshifter romance. And no, it seems I cannot write anything without adding a bit of a speculative bend to it. Maybe some day. Anyhoo, they are different in tone and in POV, some are first person some are third, all have female protagonists, though some have male character perspectives in them. But what hit me is that in three of the stories the MC has to learn who she really is (literally, in one case) and deal with how that self realization will affect her. In the other story, the MC is the one who was affected by someone else’s true self and has to suffer the consequences.
Thinking about the overall theme of my stories made me consider WHY I was writing about “finding yourself.”
Like most everyone, I grew up with a plan as to how my life might play out. For a long time, it involved studying animals, working with them and for them in some capacity. Sure, a spouse and kids were tossed into the mix at some point, but the idea of life as Science Gal stayed with me for a long time. That was who I was and who I would be.
Then circumstances, job opportunities and financial obligations changed. Long term positions in my chosen field meant separation from DH or upheaval of my spouse’s more lucrative and promising career. Summer field positions were fine, but we needed the steady income of my getting year-round work. Science Gal needed to step back for a more practical solution. At least temporarily. Right. That’s about when the biological clock chimed and we started our family. So much for returning to the life of field work. And no, DH was not able to stay home because he is Science Guy who needed to be in the field or trotting about to meetings across the planet. So I took local, out-of-my-chosen-field-of-study jobs.
I was lost. This was NOT what I’d seen for myself as a young woman contemplating her future. Not that I regretted the choices I’d made. I knew what I was doing when I chose to marry my husband, when I decided it was time for children. But still, the question of what would happen to *me* now that I wasn’t who I thought I’d be made me very anxious. I liked who I was, for the most part, but this new person ? What was she like? How would she react to situations? And more importantly, did she still like coffee and chocolate?
It took me a while to fit into this new skin. There were times, early on, that I felt frustrated, depressed even, because after all that hard work in school, after traipsing across the country to take exciting positions, I couldn’t use my knowledge and experience. I was now a stay at home mom with two kids. What happened to ME? Well, life happened. And once I realized that I wasn’t lost, that I was merely taking the scenic route to what I was truly meant to be, I relaxed.
And now, I write about women who are on that insane journey of self discovery. It’s exciting to experience those moments through characters, but I’m getting too old for major shake-ups. Let the perpetually younger and sturdier people I create have that fun. Plus, as the writer, I can REALLY mess with their lives. Kill my darlings? Maybe not, but I sure like making things rough for them. Better them than me.
The Pineapple Express: No Trip to Paradise
Here is South Central Alaska, we’re used to a bit of rain and wind, but when the forecast calls for hurricane-force gusts, even we sit up and take notice. Or rather, batten down the hatches, cover our heads and take notice.
For the past few days, the region has been hit by a warm front racing up from the south. It’s locally known as the Pineapple Express because it originates near the Hawaiian Islands. The front brings with it temperatures in the mid thirties to mid forties, lots of rain, and lots of wind. The abrupt change from the clear and cold weather we’d been having was a tad disconcerting, but not terribly surprising. I liked the clear and cold. I particularly liked the lack of snow. More precisely, I liked not having to shovel snow.
The rain has been no big deal. After living here for more than a year, I’m getting used to the amount of precipitation that lands here. We are, after all, in a temperate rainforest, meaning we average over 70″ of wetness annually. It seems like we’ve received half of that in the past few days, but according to NOAA and this map, we’ve hardly dented the rain gages. I think NOAA needs new gages.
This year is particularly windy. Our living room has four windows that are 3′ X 4′, better to catch what sunlight we can (when it’s out) and better to view the lake and mountains across from us. All very lovely in nice weather, but when the wind blows, and it does, the windows flex. When the wind blows at gusts over 100m.p.h., they rattle and threaten to come out of their frames. And the entire house shakes as if it’s about to come off its footings. It was scary, to say the least, and I hoped the windows would hold up. Maybe I was being wimpy, but we aren’t used to that kind of force. (It made me think about folks who live in more vulnerable areas, and those who don’t evacuate when they can and should. Why someone in a hurricane-prone area would choose to stay during one of their storms is a total mystery to me.)
I sat in the living room with my husband, watching TV with the sound turned up loud enough to hear over the wind and rain, wondering if we had plywood sheets large enough to cover all the windows. Wondering how much stuff from beneath our “dry” storage was now strewn across the yard. And was the roof still on? We detected no leaks, so we assumed all was well when we went to bed.
The next morning, things had calmed down enough to make rounds. We’d suffered nothing worse than some excess water in our covered storage and a few up-ended empty garbage cans. A neighbor had lost a panel or two from his metal roof. That seemed to be the worst of it in our area. On the plus side, there is no longer a sheet of ice covering my driveway or the roads.
They say a gift from Hawaii is like receiving a bit of paradise. Personally, I’d exchange this one.
Whale Photos
Before I take a break for the holidays, go here to see a few of the photos I took during my fabulous whale watching trip a couple of weeks ago. Yes, you have to go to Flickr to see them because it’s faster and easier than loading them here. For me anyway. When I get back to the Frozen North, I’ll see about putting up some other pictures.
Happy Holidays and All the Best for a Grand New Year!
Cathy in AK
Whale Tale–Why I Love Where I Live
This past Saturday evening, I received a phone call at about 9pm from a friend. In a nutshell, Suzanna said, “We’re going out on Dave’s boat to see some whales tomorrow. There’s room for one more.”
I balked, not at the idea of going on a boat–I love being on boats–or at the idea of seeing cool critters, but at the 6am sail time (on a Sunday!) and the 8pm return. That’s a long day, and with only room for one, I felt a bit guilty. DH was going to have to stay home with the kids, but he had to prepare for an early departure Monday morning anyway. Suzanna was a persistent saleswoman, and in the end I agreed to sacrifice sleep for a little adventure. I’m so glad I did. (Sorry, kids. Next time we’ll go as a family.)
Resetting my alarm to 5am (on a Sunday!), I hardly slept and was out of bed by 4:45 (on a Sunday!). My oldest stumbled out of her room just as I was fixing a cup of tea. “Go back to sleep,” I told her. “I’ll be back later. Dad will explain.” I kissed her sleepy bed-head and sent her to her room.
Dressed in layers, prepared for ever-changing Alaska weather, and toting my camera, binoculars and travel mug, I was the first passenger to arrive at the boat. Dave, the captain, runs tourist charters and provides transport for the local scientists/state agencies. He’s a great guy and knows just about everything there is to know about Prince William Sound. Milo and his wife Paula are a very nice couple I’ve met at several gatherings. He’s a biologist/photographer for the US Forest Service, I think, and she’s a librarian. Kristin is head of a local organization that monitors the massive watershed system here. Mary Ann is a biologist at the Science Center where my husband works. She had her 10 year old daughter with her for this trip. And Suzanna is the Public Health nurse in town. Good folks to spend a day with.
It took almost 3 hours to reach the bay where the humpback whales hung out. There wasn’t much to see during transit–I’m sure the scenery would have been great, but it was dark until 8:45–so we chatted and drank coffee or tea. The boat was clean, comfortable and warm, the seas flat calm. Upon arrival, we donned our coats and hats and gathered our cameras and binoculars to go on deck. For South Central Alaska in December, it was an amazing day. No wind and only a bit of rain. The bay is long, very deep (500 feet for the most part, which accommodated the whales nicely) and somewhat narrow, surrounded by snow-covered mountains. Clouds kept the sun from reflecting too brightly off the water, but that would be to our advantage when we began taking pictures.
Almost immediately, whale spouts were seen and heard in singles and in groups of two or three or four. Some as close as fifty yards or so. All around us were massive humpback whales, slipping along the surface or gliding below the boat. Mothers and calves, pairs, groups and singles. Stubby dorsal fins and knobby heads and backs broke the calm waters. An occasional pectoral fin, with its telltale white underside flashed in the grey light. As the sun rose higher, the whales appeared bronze in color against the black-green water. We didn’t know where to look at any one time. Just once, we saw one breach, rising almost a full body length out of the water before splashing back down. No one got a picture of it, but we’ll remember it for a long, long time.
No matter which direction you chose, you were sure to receive the gift of observing one of the most majestic creatures on earth. We were also fortunate to see a variety of birds, harbor seals “basking” on an ice sheet, and curious sea lions (who wandered up to the boat AFTER my camera battery died). My descriptions here don’t do the trip justice, nor do the pics. Trust me, it was amazing.
We spent hours puttering up into the bay, idling and enjoying the scenery or watching the whales and other animals. Time after time, I was struck by the unbelievable beauty around us. There are still some wild places in this world, and I was never so grateful as then to be able to experience it. Thank you, Dave, for an amazing tour. Thank you, Suzanna for not taking “no” for an answer. Thank you, Milo, Paula, Kristin, Mary Ann and Nancy for such fun company.
Note: Milo was trying to photograph the flukes for identification, hence most of my pics are of the flukes too. He wasn’t doing it as a paid job, but to help one of the organizations involved in humpback whale studies. And because it’s fun and cool. The whales would surface, blow out their breath (very stinky, btw) and give us a glimpse of dorsal a few times before they made a characteristic maneuver that told us they were about to dive.
Here’s a teaser pic while I figure out how to resize the larger files and manhandle blogger.
