More Naturalist Thoughts



A beautiful day at Orca Point Lodge.

I’ve gotten a few silly questions – “Does this water freeze?” “Where are the igloos?” “Are you Eskimo?” And I’ve gotten a few really nice compliments – “That was a great lecture.” “I was taking notes during your talk.” “Very informative.” Toward the end of one of our trips, a woman even asked if my background was in marine biology. I laughed in shock and was honest, that I had just started studying this stuff about a week ago. It’s always nice, despite whatever the tipping situation is, to have people thank you, hug you, want to take your picture. It feels good. On the comment cards, in the space that asks what the highlight of the trip was, some people write, “crew hospitality,” instead of, “whales.”

One of my favorite moments so far was during a viewing of bubble net feeding. There was a group of Chinese tourists (I’m pretty sure they were Chinese) and although they were spread throughout the second deck and into the third deck, they were so animated in communicating with each other expressing awe and excitement. Each time a whale surfaced – and there were many times since we were watching bubble net feeding – they’d loudly talk to each other. It was really quite loud and noticeable. Most people aren’t as intrusive during a viewing and it was excusable because they were foreign. I liked it because their reactions were honest.

Even though I’ve done several trips on my own as the sole naturalist, I still feel unsure and hesitant. I constantly need to build my repertoire of information and stories. If any job has ever felt like the movie Groundhog Day, it’s this one. The only thing that changes is the wildlife itself. (Although for days in a row that might even stay the same. We may know that there will always be some stellar sea lions hauled out on the red and green buoy in front of Point Retreat. It’s funny to hear the captain feign surprise at all of a sudden “spotting” them.) Everything else – the talks, the smoked salmon sampling, Orca Point Lodge – is the same.

As a Naturalist, I do feel like I’m trying to sell the “Alaska Experience,” or to be more specific, the “Southeast Alaska Experience,” what it means to live in this part of the state – the rain, being out on the water, the isolation. All the tourists come from parts of the country or the world that have identities as strong as or stronger than what we have in Southeast, and they often want to share where they are from. They want to talk about what they have in their own backyard. I’m so much better at doing that than sharing information about wildlife. I love listening to the passengers tell their own stories. I’ve talked to an Indian mother from Chicago who desperately wants her pharmacist son to succeed without being plagued by debt; a couple from Wisconsin who can their own food, make their own wine, and wanted so badly to bring home a king salmon; a family from Ohio who fish for trout and laugh endlessly with each other so much. I talk to people whose dream has always been to go to Alaska and what they’re experiencing on our little tour far surpasses any of their expectations. Those people are the best.