The thunderous crash of ice breaking free from the glacier and plunging into the icy waters below was a sight to behold. Tons, perhaps hundreds of tons, of ice crashed down, creating a spectacle of nature’s raw power.
But even more memorable were the exuberant shouts of my wife, whose excitement and joy echoed across the deck of the ship, across the ice-strewn waters of the fjord, and into the forest beyond. Her enthusiastic exclamations—sometimes peppered with colorful language—added an unexpected layer of delight to our 26 Glacier Cruise out of Whittier, making the experience of watching the calving glaciers even more unforgettable.
The impact into the water was so immense that it sent waves radiating outward, forcing the crew to rotate our ship into the oncoming swells. Despite being half a mile away, the force was enough to make the ship rock and buck, forcing us to hold on tightly to maintain our footing on the rain-slicked deck.
The air was filled awe and excitement, both from the natural spectacle before us and from my wife’s infectious enthusiasm.
I should have expected her joy—visiting Alaska, and seeing calving glaciers in particular, was high on her bucket list.
Tidal glaciers like Harvard Glacier collapse in such dramatic fashion due to the constant movement and melting of ice. As the glacier advances, it pushes ice into the fjord, where it eventually breaks off in massive chunks. This process, known as calving, is driven by the glacier’s interaction with the warmer ocean water at its base, which melts the ice and creates fractures.
The fjord itself becomes a mosaic of floating ice chunks, ranging from small pieces to large icebergs. These chunks are remnants of the glacier’s journey, carried along by the currents and tides, creating a stunning and ever-changing icy landscape.
For this trip, we were staying near Anchorage. We took the drive carefully, mindful of the time to ensure we reached the Anton Anderson Memorial Tunnel in time to get through. The tunnel, which reverses directions every half hour, is the only land access to Whittier.
We arrived with enough time to explore a little before boarding the three-deck high-speed catamaran operated by Phillips Cruises & Tours.
We lined up with the folks who either drove like us or arrived via the excursion train, and had the good fortune to be assigned a seat at a table next to the window, giving us an excellent view.
As we set off, they served us delicious chowder, and a ranger provided a fascinating lecture on the geography, animals, and history of the fjord and glaciers within the Chugach National Forest.
College Fjord, located in the northern part of Prince William Sound, is a stunning example of glacial geography. The fjord is lined with numerous glaciers, including five tidewater glaciers that terminate in the water, five large valley glaciers, and dozens of smaller glaciers.
The fjord was first mapped in 1899 during the Harriman Expedition, and many of the glaciers were named after prestigious East Coast colleges, with women’s colleges on the northwest side and men’s colleges on the southeast side. The smallest, Amherst, the largest, Harvard, and among them Yale, Smith, Vassar, Holyoke, and Amherst, all retreating slowly since the end of the “Little Ice Age” of the 14th to 19th centuries.
The area is rich in wildlife, with opportunities to see seals, sea otters, and a variety of seabirds. The ranger explained how the glaciers shape the landscape, carving out deep valleys and fjords as they advance and retreat. The history of the region is also fascinating, with the cant role in the lives of the indigenous peoples and the early explorers who navigated these icy waters.
The climate in this region is notably wet, making it one of the rainiest spots on earth. Whittier, in particular, receives an average of over 150 inches of precipitation annually. This area is part of the northernmost temperate rainforest in North America, contributing to its lush, green landscape and diverse ecosystem. The frequent rain and mist add to the dramatic atmosphere, with the fjord often shrouded in a mystical fog that enhances the beauty of the glaciers and the surrounding landscape.
Soon, I spotted the first chunk of ice in the water. My wife had dreamed of seeing calving glaciers, but for years she had been telling me she wanted to see “ice bergs”, not knowing the term “glacier calving”. When I saw the first chunks of ice, I was excited to point them out to her… I had no idea just how much I we would eventually see!
As we continued our journey, we noticed sea otters floating in the water. These adorable creatures were either alone or in small groups, but we learned that they can form large rafts, sometimes consisting of dozens or even hundreds of individuals. Sea otters are incredibly social animals, often seen holding hands to stay together while they rest on the water’s surface. Their playful behavior and endearing appearance added another layer of charm to our already magical experience.
A little farther along, as the ice chunks were getting larger, we spotted seals hauled up on the ice. Despite the cold, laying atop the ice was actually warmer for them than swimming in the frigid water. Harbor seals use these ice floes as resting spots, especially during pupping and molting seasons. The ice provides a safe haven from predators and a place to nurse their young. Seeing these seals up close, lounging on the ice, was a highlight of our trip, adding to the incredible wildlife encounters we experienced.
Soon, the ice chunks were large enough that the ship began maneuvering to avoid them. Each glacier was an “oh wow!” moment, but nothing prepared us for Harvard Glacier. The glacier’s face, stretching 1.5 miles wide and towering 300 feet high, was a breathtaking wall of ice. It was adorned with striking blue streaks, created by the compression of pure ice, and black streaks, which were layers of rock and sediment carried down from the mountains. The sheer size and beauty of the glacier were awe-inspiring, making it difficult to grasp its true scale.
Glaciers like Harvard Glacier are dynamic, ever-changing rivers of ice. They form in areas where the accumulation of snow exceeds its melting and sublimation over many years. The weight of the accumulated snow compresses the lower layers into dense ice. As the glacier grows, it begins to
flow slowly under its own weight, carving out deep valleys and fjords as it moves. The process of calving, where chunks of ice break off from the glacier’s edge, is a natural part of a glacier’s life cycle, driven by the interaction of the glacier with the warmer ocean water at its base.
The calving process is a dramatic and integral part of a glacier’s life cycle. Calving occurs when chunks of ice break off at the terminus, or end, of a glacier. This happens because the forward motion of the glacier makes the terminus unstable. As the glacier advances, it pushes ice into the fjord, where it eventually breaks off in massive chunks due to the glacier’s interaction with the warmer ocean water at its base.
The process begins with the formation of crevasses, or deep cracks, in the glacier. These crevasses can extend up from the base of the ice, reducing the glacier’s structural integrity and leading to calving. Melting at the waterline undercuts the glacier, causing the subaerial part of the glacier to collapse. This can leave a submerged “foot” of ice, which may later break off due to buoyant forces.
When a large piece of ice breaks away, it often does so with a loud cracking or booming sound, followed by a thunderous splash as it hits the water. The entry of the ice into the water generates large waves, which can be hazardous to nearby vessels. The resulting icebergs, which can vary greatly in size, float away and become part of the icy landscape of the fjord.
The day of our visit was an exceptionally good day for calving. Massive chunks of ice broke free from the glacier’s face, crashing into the water below with thunderous roars. Each calving event sent towering sprays of water into the air, followed by waves that radiated outward, rocking our boat. The force of the impact was so powerful that it felt as though the entire fjord was alive with movement.
Throughout it all, my wife was beside herself with joy.
Her screams of excitement, sometimes punctuated with laughter and the occasional expletive, echoed across the deck. She clung to the railing, eyes wide with wonder, as each new calving event unfolded before us. The boat rocked and bucked with each wave, making it a challenge to stay upright on the rain-slicked deck, but her enthusiasm never waned.
It seemed that every time the cruise director announced that the show was over, another massive chunk of ice would break away, starting the spectacle all over again. The glacier seemed determined to put on a continuous display of its raw power and beauty, much to the delight of everyone on board. The combination of the crashing ice, the splashing water, and my wife’s infectious joy made for an unforgettable experience, one that we would cherish for years to come.
Eventually, running behind schedule, we had to leave. On the cruise back, the crew provided chunks of blue glacier ice for our drinks. The ice, with tiny air bubbles frozen under immense pressure, occasionally popped as it melted, adding a unique touch to our refreshments.
Our cruise exited the fjord through a very narrow cut called “Esther Passage, making me marvel at how such a large ship could navigate so close to shore. We kept a lookout for bears and other wildlife, but nothing remarkable appeared until we reached a group of rocks known as Egg Rock outside the bay.
Here, dozens and dozens of sea lions had hauled out, creating a bustling scene of these massive creatures lounging on the rocks. It was an incredible sight, adding yet another unforgettable moment to our journey
Then, we headed back into the bay for another glacier Blackstone Glacier.
This glacier had cascading waterfalls flowing down its face, creating a mesmerizing sight. Although there were no dramatic calving events, the glacier’s proximity and vertical expanse were still breathtaking and awe-inspiring.
As we marveled at the beauty of Blackstone Glacier, a group of adventurous souls arrived on jet skis rented in Whittier. They zipped up to us across the icy waters, I tried to imagine how cold that ice water must be and found myself immensely thankful for the comfortable seat inside our nice warm and dry ship.
The final visual treat was a rookery on the north side of Passage Canal.
Had we been more alert on our outbound leg of the trip, we would have noted it then. This rookery was home to thousands of black-legged kittiwakes, their white and black feathers contrasting sharply with the dark cliffs. The air was filled with their screeching calls, creating a cacophony that was both chaotic and mesmerizing. These seabirds nest in large colonies, and the cliffs were dotted with their nests, making for an incredible sight.
Then, it was back to the dock in Whittier and a drive back to our lodging near Anchorage, waiting our turn to take the narrow one-way tunnel. The journey through the Anton Anderson Memorial Tunnel was just as fascinating the second time, knowing it was our gateway to and from such an incredible adventure. Reflecting on the day’s experiences, from the calving glaciers to the playful otters and the majestic seals, we felt a deep sense of gratitude for the unforgettable memories we had made.
The glaciers, ice, otters, seals, calving, wilderness, waterfalls, walruses, and nesting birds were all amazing, but nothing will top my wife’s screams of joy.
For more information
- phillipscruises.com
About the Author
PAUL PENCE not only writes many of the articles in the pages of this magazine, he is also the publisher and editor of all of the magazines in the Amygis Publishing’s family of travel magazines.
He loves exploring, traveling the back roads, experiencing the world, and finding what is unique and memorable about the places he visits.
And he loves writing – poetry, short stories, essays, non-fiction, news, and. of course, travel writing.
For over 20 years, he has shared his explorations with readers in a wide variety of outlets, from groundbreaking forays into the first stirrings of the dot-com boom to travel guides, local newspapers, and television, including Runner’s World, Travel Lady, Providence Journal, and Northstar Travel Media. He currently publishes and writes for Amygis Publishing’s magazines Jaunting, Northeast Traveler, and Rhode Island Roads.