Arctic Journey: Wildlife of Lancaster Sound

Overnight the Explorer edged westward, towards the area of the lost Franklin Expedition (1845), but ice began to clog the channel of Lancaster Sound, so we reversed course and spent August 3rd cruising off Devon Island, on the north side of the Sound.

Lancaster Sound is one of the Arctic's most biologically productive marine areas. Our first sighting began about 7:30, when the bridge spotted walrus on the ice. The Explorer crept along slowly, not disturbing the animals. Although we could chatter away on the bridge, especially to guide newcomers' focus towards the walrus, those outside on the bow communicated in whispers alongside the clickity-click of cameras in burst mode. With binoculars we were able to discern that it was a pair of walrus on the little chunk of ice.

At 8:15 I was able to take this picture.

When the camera zooms in, you can see that the walrus facing us has only one tusk (click on the photo to enlarge). Walrus use their tusks for foraging on the sea floor and to haul out onto the ice, so they are prone to damage.

This was a perfect wildlife spotting in the Lindblad tradition: excellent viewing for the guests, staff, and crew without disturbing the animals.

Captain Kreuss gradually backed the Explorer away from the walrus and we then began working our way through thicker ice.

Roughly two hours later, we encountered another walrus, this time with two tusks.

The ice on which he rested was gradually sinking below the surface under the weight of his frame. Male Atlantic walrus average 2,000 pounds; the females about two-thirds of that.

This walrus saw an opportunity for lying on his back in the water.

About 1:00 pm we encountered an unconcerned bearded seal. I guess we didn't look like a polar bear. After three days of Thanksgiving turkey, I wonder if I don't look like the seal.

Half an hour later, we were visiting another walrus. At least, we thought it was only one walrus.

I missed the shot, but another guest captured the revelation that this was a mother and baby walrus.

 Soon after they slid into the water and were gone from sight.

By now we were deep enough into Maxwell Bay to see the headlands. We were also a stone's throw from 75° N, and this would be the northernmost point of our journey.

The Explorer pivoted so that we could survey the action taking place on a broad sheet of ice between the bluffs of Maxwell Bay and the open water. We eagerly followed the progress of a mother polar bear and her two cubs, through binoculars. This is how it looked to my camera (click to enlarge).

Further to the left, a male was hunting along the edge of the ice. There were seals here, but they could easily see this guy coming.

He took a jump from one patch of ice to the next and missed. I didn't capture the leap, but here he is stretched out ignominiously afterwards.

We didn't leave the ship today, but we saw a lot. Lectures (The Franklin Expedition: The Boys on Beechy, The Evolution of the Arctic Submarine) were offered too, but frequently interrupted by wildlife announcements from the bridge.