Show Navigation

Duncan Murrell - A Whale of a Time

  • Portfolio
  • About
  • Contact
  • Blog
  • Testimonials
  • Facebook
  • Archive
    • All Galleries
    • Search
    • Cart
    • Lightbox
    • Client Area

Duncan Murrell - A Whale of a Time

Search Results

37 images

  • Facebook
  • Twitter
x
Refine Search
Match all words
Match any word
Prints
Personal Use
Royalty-Free
Rights-Managed
(leave unchecked to
search all images)

Loading ()...

  • Puerto-Princesa-Easter5.tif
  • Myanmar-Burma-Buddhism18.jpg
  • Myanmar-Burma-children3.jpg
  • Myanmar-Burma-children10.jpg
  • Myanmar-Burma-people-events13.jpg
  • Myanmar-Burma-people-events5.jpg
  • Myanmar-Burma-people-events11.jpg
  • Myanmar-Burma-people-events8.jpg
  • Myanmar-Burma-children6.jpg
  • Myanmar-Burma-children9.jpg
  • Myanmar-Burma-children17.jpg
  • Myanmar-Burma-children15.jpg
  • Myanmar-Burma-children16.jpg
  • Myanmar-Burma-people-events15.jpg
  • Myanmar-Burma-people-events7.jpg
  • Myanmar-Burma-people-events4.jpg
  • Myanmar-Burma-children4.jpg
  • Myanmar-Burma-people-events3.jpg
  • Myanmar-Burma-children14.jpg
  • Myanmar-Burma-children7.jpg
  • Myanmar-Burma-people-events2.jpg
  • Myanmar-Burma-children19.jpg
  • Myanmar-Burma-people-events12.jpg
  • Myanmar-Burma-Buddhism21.jpg
  • Myanmar-Burma-children8.jpg
  • Myanmar-Burma-children2.jpg
  • Myanmar-Burma-children18.jpg
  • Myanmar-Burma-people-events10.jpg
  • Myanmar-Burma-people-events9.jpg
  • Myanmar-Burma-people-events14.jpg
  • Myanmar-Burma-children1.jpg
  • Myanmar-Burma-people-events6.jpg
  • Myanmar-Burma-children5.jpg
  • Myanmar-Burma-children12.jpg
  • Duncan Murrell eating his breakfast of huckleberry pancakes at Point Hayes, Chichagoff Island, Southeast Alaska, USA.<br />
<br />
This was my main camp for many years when I was photographing the bubble net feeding humpback whales. It was a perfect lookout point enabling me to look up and down Chatham Strait, which is the longest navigable channel in the USA. It’s also the point where the Peril Straits enters Chatham Strait from the Pacific Ocean to the west. It was a perfect camp site in many ways apart from being near one of the whales’ favourite feeding sites, the Morris Reef. It had two protected beaches for ease of launching and landing, facing either north or south, depending on which way the wind was blowing from. It was close to streams for fresh water and there was always plenty of firewood washed up on the shore. Perhaps my favourite reason was that in the forest nearby was the biggest patch of huckleberry bushes that I knew of, and huckleberries were my favourite berries to have on my stack of pancakes every morning, to fuel me up for another long hard day paddling with the whales.<br />
It was also a beautiful spot to eat my dinner in the evening. I cooked very elaborate dinners because that was evening’s entertainment every night. Every night I would slide back into my reclining camp seat and watch the dying embers of the fire flicker beneath the stars, and the moon cross Chatham Strait from Admiralty Island to Baranof Island. The stillness of the night was periodically punctuated by a gentle volley of whale breath, which perfectly complemented the sounds of contentment rumbling inside my full belly.
    Whaleman-12.tif
  • This was my main camp for many years when I was photographing the bubble net feeding humpback whales. It was a perfect lookout point enabling me to look up and down Chatham Strait, which is the longest navigable channel in the USA. It’s also the point where the Peril Straits enters Chatham Strait from the Pacific Ocean to the west. It was a perfect camp site in many ways apart from being near one of the whales’ favourite feeding sites, the Morris Reef. It had two protected beaches for ease of launching and landing, facing either north or south, depending on which way the wind was blowing from. It was close to streams for fresh water and there was always plenty of firewood washed up on the shore. Perhaps my favourite reason was that in the forest nearby was the biggest patch of huckleberry bushes that I knew of, and huckleberries were my favourite berries to have on my stack of pancakes every morning, to fuel me up for another long hard day paddling with the whales.<br />
It was also a beautiful spot to eat my dinner in the evening. I cooked very elaborate dinners because that was evening’s entertainment every night. Every night I would slide back into my reclining camp seat and watch the dying embers of the fire flicker beneath the stars, and the moon cross Chatham Strait from Admiralty Island to Baranof Island. The stillness of the night was periodically punctuated by a gentle volley of whale breath, which perfectly complemented the sounds of contentment rumbling inside my full belly.
    Alaska-camping-kayaking14.jpg
  • The prevailing wind in Southeast Alaska is SE, and in the early days when I was kayaking mainly in Frederick Sound and Stephens Passage I had to paddle southwards back to Petersburg against strong headwinds and waves. But sometimes the wind and waves were too much for me when the weather  deteriorated in late September, and I had to just sit out the storms and wait for a break in the weather. On this occasion I had to wait at least a week, and I was down to my last provisions. It was exhilarating to look out across the stormy sea feeling the full might of the wind rampaging across the long fetch of Frederick Sound. But I was getting frustrated and my tent was being attacked by a very aggressive territorial squirrel that objected to me living on his patch. It was the only clearing that I could find to pitch my tent, and because it was relatively open the forest floor was riddled with the squirrel's burrows. It started chewing holes in my precious "Omnipotent" tent and then it escalated to bombarding it with fir-cones. I had to retaliate and throw them back at him, and the tension continued to escalate from there until I had to declare war on the squirrel. I was always very wary of the squirrels in Southeast Alaska because they were worse than bears for trying to raid my food, and they chewed holes in some of my drybags, with perfect insight into where their favourite snacks like peanuts were located. Eventually I woke up one night and the moon was beaming across a placid Frederick Sound so I made a dash for it and paddled for 14 hours straight to get back to Petersburg before the weather changed.
    Southeast-Alaska-coast11.jpg