Windfall Harbor in late June

Life in Windfall Harbor, and on the majority of Admiralty Island for that matter, isn't only about bears. Particuarly in late June and early July, when you're near a creek that doesn't spawn sockeye, and the chum haven't yet begun their spawn. At that time, most bears follow the receding snowline and the subsequent fresh greens that follow the snowmelt. A few bears remain in the lower elevations in late June before the salmon arrive, most of which are subadults or sows with cubs. The ones that want to be where the adult males aren't. However, we occasionally see a straggling adult male or solo adult female in the lower elevations in June, rooting around on the tideflats for some choice horse clams or grazing the sedge meadows for remnants of protein-rich plants. Otherwise, late June and early July are good weeks to hang out with organisms other than ursus arctos on Admiralty Island.

The steadfast peaks of Windfall Harbor. The place where I rest my head. For four months a year, at least.

Attempting to scale a camp-dwelling Sitka spruce. And when I say attemping to scale, I simply mean posing-in-front-of-with-arm-stretched-upward, as though I were half-assedly attempting to scale. This Sitka spruce seems large enough, but it's actually relatively small compared to the big dogs that were cut decades ago in Alaska and BC.

Another relatively small specimen. An adult male who has a large frame, but has yet to pack on the pounds to fill out his large stature. A few more years of consuming thousands of calories, and this fellow will be an intimidating soul, indeed.


Caught with its little tonge out of its beak, this intercontinental migrator and his buddies tend to frequent our camp. Rufous Hummingbirds make the big trip from Colombia and Venezuela to Alaska and back again every year. Not bad for a bird the size of your thumb...


For those interested in American voices, the hermit thrush has been described by the likes of Walt Whitman as encompassing the American voice. The hermit thrush song is about as soothing as it gets, particularly as you're waking up at 6 am on a summer's day in Windfall Harbor. This gray little guy seems to favor the blueberry bushes directly in front of our tent, as he, or others that look identical to him, cherry pick the bush's best blueberries on a regular basis.