Prince William Sound: Seven Rainy Days of Kayaking, Camping, and Adventure

Ruth Bergman
Jan 21
6 min read

Updated: Mar 20

Alaska, Round Two: Back for More Adventure!

It had been twenty-two years since our first adventure in Glacier Bay, Alaska, when the beloved kayak guide from our club offered a trip to Alaska. I signed up the minute registration opened—I couldn’t wait for a second visit to Alaska, this time to Prince William Sound and the Columbia Glacier.

With a group from our club, I knew the paddling would be serious. I was hoping for wildlife sightings to match our first experience, and my expectations were definitely met. But the best parts of any trip are the things you didn’t expect. The defining experience of this trip was the constant, unrelenting drizzle that lasted for all seven days we spent kayaking and camping on the beaches. Learning to cope with the wet, damp, and cold brought out our determination and camaraderie.

Raindrops and Ripples: The Joy of Wet-Weather Kayaking

I would have thought that paddling in the rain would be difficult, or at least annoying, as most things tend to be when you’re wet. But surprisingly, that wasn’t the case at all. Instead, paddling in the rain turned out to be a peaceful, almost meditative experience. The rain creates textures and ripples on the water, turning the surface into an ever-changing canvas that I could watch for hours. In the right conditions, the raindrops hitting the water create sparkling patterns that look like diamonds scattered across the surface. The rhythmic sound of the rain, combined with the gentle splash of our paddles, created an atmosphere of quiet serenity. There’s a sense of being completely immersed in nature, undistracted by the usual bustle, as though the world slows down just a little. Though the mist and cloud cover obscure the grand vistas that attract so many cruise ships to Prince William Sound, the rain offers its own kind of beauty.

Drenched but Determined: Surviving Non-Stop Rain While Camping

Growing up in Israel, rain is not frequent—when it was expected, trips were usually cancelled. As a result, my experience with camping in the rain was practically nonexistent. So, when we set off on this trip, it was quite a shift. From day one, we found ourselves setting up camp in the rain, cooking in the rain, packing and unpacking the kayaks in the rain. It wasn’t just a sprinkle here and there; it was relentless. We were well-prepared, with extra tarps, sturdy waterproof gear, and all the necessary precautions. Even so, I quickly realized that every single movement counts. A single wrong action can leave you drenched from head to toe in an instant. I learned this the hard way one evening when I made a nature call. I wasn’t careful enough while getting dressed afterward, and before I knew it, my thermals and underwear were soaked through. I’ve rarely felt such misery.

It’s in those moments of discomfort that you really start to appreciate the power of slowing down and being intentional with every action. A simple task like putting on clothes or setting up camp becomes a mindful practice. In the beginning, I resisted the idea. I’ve always been someone who prefers action over reflection, always moving and doing. But a week of continuous rain, day after day, taught me to slow down, to pay attention to the details, to be present in each moment. Now, I think they call it mindfulness, and I’ve come to understand just how important it can be in moments of hardship. There’s a beauty in this slower, more deliberate way of living—and I’ve found that it can make even the wettest of days more manageable.

Longest Paddle, Greatest Reward: Reaching Columbia Glacier

The Columbia Glacier is a spectacular goal for a kayak trip. This majestic tidewater glacier stretches over a mile where it meets the sea, a breathtaking sight to behold. Notably, Columbia Glacier is the fastest-retreating glacier in the world, which means the distance you need to paddle to reach it is constantly increasing. On this particular day, we paddled a total of 34 kilometers—my longest day of paddling to date.

Of course, the effort was more than worth it, not just for the stunning views of the glacier itself. We set off at around 9 a.m., able to make an early start since we didn’t need to pack the kayaks that morning. The journey began with a steady paddle along the fjord, rain drizzling around us for a good stretch of time. Eventually, we started to spot the first icebergs—just small ones at first, but enough to hint at what lay ahead. After about 10 kilometers, we rounded a corner, and the occasional iceberg gave way to a maze of them. We found ourselves weaving carefully through the icy labyrinth.

Midday, we stopped for a much-needed lunch break on a black sand beach. Here, we also filled our water containers with fresh glacier meltwater—hands down the best-tasting water I’ve ever had. As we continued paddling, the glacier finally came into view, its vibrant blue wall of ice gleaming in the distance. It looked deceptively close, but distances on the water can be misleading. We paddled and paddled, determined to get as close as possible.

At long last, we reached a small beach near the glacier’s edge. We hopped out for a quick break, soaking in the incredible surroundings, before starting the long paddle back through the icebergs. On the return trip, a brief but magical encounter with a whale gave us a much-needed energy boost as we neared our camp.

We ended the day exhausted but deeply satisfied—and grateful that we didn’t have to set up camp after such an epic adventure.

Otterly Adorable: A Close-Up with a Sea Otter Colony

On the first day of the trip, a mounting storm kept us from venturing far in our kayaks. After arriving by boat from Whittier to a small island, we set up camp and took a short afternoon paddle around our little haven. It wasn’t long before we spotted what looked like a small log floating in the water.

As we drew closer, the “log” suddenly began to scream. To our surprise, it was a young sea otter, startled by our approach and crying out for its mother. We continued paddling and soon came across a large group of sea otters floating serenely in the water. As we approached, we noticed something unusual—each otter seemed to have two pairs of eyes looking back at us. That’s when we realized the heartwarming scene before us: a group of mother otters, each carrying a baby on her belly as they floated together.

Sea Lion Colony Drama: When We Got a Little Too Close

During our time in Prince William Sound, we encountered very few people. Over the entire trip, I can only recall seeing three other kayak groups. We spotted a handful of tourist boats near the Columbia Glacier and a few more on the far side of the Sound heading toward the open sea. With so little human activity in the area, it shouldn’t have come as a surprise when we received an extremely unwelcoming reaction from a colony of sea lions on our sixth day of paddling.

Unlike other sea lion colonies I’ve encountered, this group clearly felt threatened by our presence and wasted no time mounting their defenses. They barked furiously, warning us to stay away, and even formed a three-sea-lion-deep barricade to block us from approaching their beach. The message was loud and clear—we weren’t welcome. We respected their warning and paddled away.

That said, the encounter was so fascinating that we couldn’t resist returning the next day to experience it again.

Majestic Moments: Our Encounter with a Humpback Whale

This picture speaks for itself. Anyone fortunate enough to encounter these majestic sea creatures dreams of capturing the iconic image of a humpback whale’s tail as it arches gracefully before a dive. We were lucky to experience just such a moment during our journey back to Whittier.

From the high deck of the motorboat, we had a perfect vantage point for this unforgettable encounter. As luck would have it, the boat had to shut off its motor due to the whale’s close proximity, creating a peaceful and awe-inspiring moment. It was the perfect conclusion to an incredible adventure.

To Wrap It Up: I’d Absolutely Return to Alaska

There are few places left in the world that have remained truly wild, and Alaska is one of them. It’s a place where you can easily escape civilization and step into a realm dominated by nature. The moment you leave behind cell phone reception and the constant buzz of modern life, you become a visitor in a land still ruled by wildlife and the elements.

On this kayak trip, I was constantly reminded of how extraordinary it is to be immersed in such untouched beauty. The serene waters, towering glaciers, and encounters with wildlife made every moment feel like a gift. Even the relentless rain, which initially felt like a nuisance, became part of the magic. The rain taught me something unexpected: the art of mindfulness. I had to slow down, think through every movement, and accept the present moment as it was. What started as a discomfort transformed into a profound appreciation for the simple act of being, surrounded by the raw power of nature.

Alaska has a way of getting under your skin, drawing you back with the promise of more adventures and unforgettable moments. I, for one, am already dreaming of the next journey. Perhaps it will take me even further north, for the chance to glimpse a polar bear in its natural habitat. Wherever it is, I know Alaska will never fail to amaze.