I woke up nervous. I’ve never been in a plane this small before and no matter what I told myself; flying is safe, you love flying, the company has a great safety record, there’s nothing to it, and the best one of all was- you want to do this well it just didn’t work. I ate a quiet breakfast, took my second IBS pill and still had to dash to the facility 4 times before we checked in for our flight at 8:00AM I know I sound like a broken record on this trip when I tell you the skies were heavy, gray and low but not only were they all of that but they were dumping rain in large amounts. I was very depressed about the whole trip. I know gray day pictures are uninteresting to me and everyone else. Well, I’ll just have to make the best of it because Talon Air doesn’t offer “rain checks”. I know that was bad, wasn’t it? Our guide, Rusty met us and we waited for another party of two to appear. Finally, at the last bell, two women appeared and announced their names. We were off. When we booked our flights last week, we were the only ones on the 8:30 flight. Now, there are two planes each carrying 8 passengers and two guides plus pilots. The company offers us all rain jackets and hip boots. I look outside at the more than drizzle that’s falling. Then I look at the way we’re dressed, in layers, synthetic fabrics and a light water resistant shell. Both Carl and I accept the offer of better protection than we had. The flight took off from a looking glass smooth lake and we were airborne in no time. What a wonderful feeling and no more butterflies for me once I climbed the ladder to get into the plane. The flight over was about 25 minutes and our landing in Redoubt Bay off the Cook Inlet was equally smooth. We looked around at our new surroundings and saw a small fleet of flat bottom aluminum boats. The guides left the plane and each went to grab a boat. Carl marveled at the how the “ground” was moving up and down as they walked. Rusty told us later it’s what is referred to as floating bog. There is no getting around it, no matter how much rain gear we have, we are going to get wet. The cushions on the boat have been out all night and assuming you sit down on a relatively dry spot, no one can fish or take pictures for 6 hours without standing up and then your dry spot isn’t anymore. I made up my mind right off, my behind, and the rest of me for that matter would be wet and very soon. I grabbed the rain poncho from our day bag and wrapped my camera up in it, a small opening for my fingers, the view finder and the lens just sticking out. One of the ladies, Teresa had been out on this same trip a couple of weeks ago but she brought her friend, Mary, with her this time. AS we pulled into the mouth of Wolverine Creek, we could see a young Black Bear grabbing salmon from the mere trickle of water coming down the streambed. We watched the bear for a few minutes and then noticed a small Brown Bear swimming across the mouth of the little cove our boat was in. Off we went to catch up with the bear who was headed towards shore and, as Rusty told us, to the Salmon at Wolverine Creek. Sure enough, by the time we got back into our place, there was the Brown Bear grabbing salmon and retreating a few yards away to eat. In fact, I thought the Black Bear would leave when the Brown Bear got there but they stayed, fished side by side and didn’t get in each other’s way. I took as many shots as I could, not realizing I had too slow a shutter speed for the amount of lens I was using. Most of my bear shots are blurs. Mary caught the first fish and she was really excited. Both bears eventually drifted off and we didn’t see another bear for the rest of the day. I didn’t have much to do except watch the others fish at that point. Before the day was over all three of the people with fishing licenses had their limit, I was officially drenched from my waist to my toes and poor Mary was so cold, wet and miserable, her lips were white and she didn’t even have enough energy to shiver. I finally had to tell Rusty I needed to find a tree to water. It had been hours since I had had anything to drink but man did I have to go. My back teeth were floating. I kept hoping one of the other ladies might need to go and say something. Maybe they had a Depends on because they never did use the bushes but Carl joined me on shore as “bear patrol” while what he was really doing was using a different tree. Once this exercise was over, we went back to watching others fish and looking longingly at the creek with hopes of spotting another bear. Mary wasn’t getting any warmer so Rusty headed the boat over to another little cove where we could enjoy Fisher Falls, a pretty little double drop waterfall about 40 feet high. It was just enough to get Mary’s mind off how cold and wet she was until the plane arrived. It was a very quiet 25 minute plane ride back with everyone drenched and drained. I felt bad for the pilot who kept having to wipe the fog off his windscreen because there was so much moisture in the cabin. Once I got the hip boots off, at the office, I realized they must have had holes in them or a split seam because I could pour water out of each of them but strangely, I wasn’t cold while we were out there. I did have fun, in spite of the ruined photos and I will know better next time, that’s for sure. And yes, there will be a next time but not on this trip. That’s one more flying conveyance off my list. Haven’t been in a glider yet.
