July 5: Return of the Residents

Well, my aforementioned blog post about an epic Bigg's killer whale encounter will have to wait, because on July 5, after 59 days of waiting, the Southern Residents finally returned to the inland waters! Specifically, it was all of J- and K-Pods, along with L87 Onyx who has traveled with J-Pod for years.

The text message came in early that there were Southern Resident vocalizations being heard on the Lime Kiln hydrophones. By the time we got to the west side, we had missed them at Lime Kiln, but caught up with them heading north from San Juan County Park. After months of viewing only Bigg's killer whales, just the energy of viewing the Southern Residents was noticeably different - the way they travel and surface is different.

They're back!!

While most of them were a way's offshore, J16 Slick, J26 Mike, and J36 Alki came inside of Low Island and through the kelp beds.

J26 Mike swimming through a kelp bed off San Juan County Park

Luckily for us, the whales stalled out just north of County Park, and soon it became apparent they were heading back south. As we dashed to the car to head to Lime Kiln, we were all wondering if it would be a "westside shuffle" kind of day - where the whales go back and forth along the west side of San Juan Island all day long, something they used to do a lot of. The answer was yes, it would be that kind of day!

By the time they reached Lime Kiln the whales had picked up speed.

Nothing quite like seeing whales aiming right at you, let alone porpoising right at you!

Suddenly among the lead group up popped a very tiny killer whale - the new calf, J56! With the Center for Whale Research getting to encounter this new little one for the first time, they confirmed not only that the mother is J31 Tsuchi (who lost a neonate in early 2016), but that the new calf is a female. Yay!!

My first photo of little J56 next to mom J31 Tsuchi

When the whales return, it truly feels like greeting old friends. I've known most of these whales longer than I've known most of the important people in my life today! Here is K26 Lobo, who along with the rest of K-Pod hadn't been seen in inland waters (or anywhere else) for an astonishing 6 months since they were in Puget Sound in mid-January.

K26 Lobo

From left to right: J37 Hy'shqa, K14 Lea, and K36 Yoda

One thing that was really noticeable was how big all the young K-Pod males have gotten! Clearly they've been growing over the winter, including K33 Tika, who I like to call the shapeshifter, because over the years I've mistaken him for just about every other male in K-Pod and several in other pods. He just looks so different depending on what angle you see him at!

K33 Tika

 A couple hours later, the whales were heading back north up the west side of San Juan Island again. First, they stalled out and flipped at Land Bank, but then came up as far as Lime Kiln, where we had again, along with may others, gathered on the rocks. For a short time, everything else faded away: the long absence of the Southern Residents, the task force meetings, the political wheeling and dealing, the marathon legislative session, the worry, the fear, the anger....for a short time, it felt like the good ol' days, hanging on the rocks at Lime Kiln with Js and Ks going back and forth in the kelp. It felt like a breath of fresh air.

If you'll permit me a moment to anthropomorphize, the whales seemed just as happy to be back as we were to have them back. While there was a lot of laughter, smiles, hugs, and tears among the human whale community, there were just as many spyhops, breaches, surface rolls, and swims through the kelp fronds among the cetacean whale community.

Rolling through the kelp just a few yards off the rocks at Lime Kiln

Spyhop from J49 T'ilem I'nges

As with any social party, the family and friends were all mixed up and interacting with one another.

From left to right: K43 Saturna, J51 Nova, and J41 Eclipse

Our Orca Behavior Institute intern Greg, who luckily only had to wait 5 days after his arrival to meet the Southern Residents for the very time, got doubly lucky with this incredibly close encounter on his first day with Js and Ks:

And he was far from the only one that day to have an exceptionally close encounter!

Our friend Jim Maya also captured this shot from a little further south along the shoreline, looking north towards Lime Kiln. You may have to click to see the larger view, but check out the two whales front and center in the photo and right off the rocks! (I'm the one in the turquoise coat on the left!)

Jim Maya photo taken from Land Bank, looking towards Lime Kiln

Overall I thought the whales looked pretty robust, as if they had indeed found a more reliable source of food elsewhere, as the Fraser River spring Chinook runs have clearly failed them in April-June, leading to their uncharacteristic and extended absences.

J47 Notch

K44 Ripple

Once again the whales got just about as far as the lighthouse when they slowly turned, and made their way past all of us on shore one more time!

L87 Onyx

A killer whale draping a long strand of kelp of its tail flukes

It was a very surreal day. Not only was I literally dreaming about J-Pod when I woke up to the message they were here, so that the whole day almost felt like an extension of the dream, but as a researcher who was viewing them but was not on the water with them I suddenly found myself bombarded with media requests to report on their return. In addition to several live spots on radio broadcasts, another interview turned into this article in the Globe and Mail which I thought did a solid job of summarizing the real issues: "Researchers encouraged by return of killer whales to the Salish Sea, but say food source must be replenished"

You can also check out my one minute video of this memorable Lime Kiln encounter here: Js and Ks at Lime Kiln on July 5th.

The whales went back south, but then slowly came north again, seen off Lime Kiln by others around sunset and then vocal on the hydrophones until after midnight. The following morning, July 6, they went through Active Pass at sunrise, and I assumed that meant we wouldn't see them until the following day at the earliest, as they usually spend some time up there. Surprisingly, they instead made their way rapidly back south, passing Lime Kiln again at 2:30 in the afternoon.

J31 Tsuchi and ~2 month old J56 heading south past Lime Kiln on July 6

That evening we spent several hours at Land Bank hoping for a repeat sunset appearance like the night before, but while we did see some faint blows in the distance, they never made it quite up to where we sat on the shoreline. Indeed, as their quick turnaround from the Fraser River foreshadowed, the next day they were again heading west out the Strait of Juan de Fuca towards the open ocean. It sure seems like they are finding a better food source out there, rather than in what has traditionally been their home waters this time of year in and around the San Juan Islands.

It all comes down to prey. The Bigg's killer whales are here in ever-greater numbers every year, while 2019 gave us the first June on record without the Southern Residents here in the Salish Sea at all. Not that long ago, at least some of the Southern Residents were here on a near-daily basis throughout the month of June. The Bigg's have an abundant supply of seals, sea lions, and porpoises to feed on here. The Fraser River is no longer providing a big enough or reliable enough source of Chinook salmon to the Southern Residents to keep them visiting what we call their core summer habitat on a regular basis. The data speaks for itself.

Another cloud over the visit of the Southern Residents was the apparent absence of both K25 Scoter and J17 Princess Angeline, two whales who looked visibly malnourished last fall and winter. While not altogether surprising, the loss of these two whales definitely hurts - not only us human admirers, but of course to their immediate families too, and to the Southern Resident population as a whole. A bittersweet sighting I had was of J53 Kiki, Princess Angeline's 3 year old daughter, swimming next to her big sister J35 Tahlequah. Over the last two and a half years, Tahlequah has lost her sister J28 Polaris, her nephew J54 Dipper, her newborn daughter which she carried with her for 17 days last summer, and now seemingly her mother J17 Princess Angeline. The cumulative grief is hard to imagine, and equally hard to imagine is little J53 Kiki having to find her way without her mom.

But here are two sisters - one who lost a daughter, and one who lost a mom - and perhaps in each other they will find both solace and a way to survive.

J53 Kiki swimming in the slipstream of her big sister, J35 Tahlequah

Indeed, it is in their perseverance and joie de vivre that I continue to find hope. While I trust them to do what they need to do in order to find enough food, I will eagerly await the next moment they can spare to visit the Salish Sea, where I hope to continue to meet them right off the rocks at Lime Kiln for many, many years to come.

The Southern Residents Return in September

The Southern Residents had last been seen in inland waters on August 4th (and with our trip to northern Vancouver Island, I hadn't seen them since July 24th), when on September 4th the long-awaited news came in of many resident killer whales inbound in the Strait of Juan de Fuca. Over the next few hours we heard that Js, Ks, and Ls were all there, and it turned out to be by far the closest thing we've had to a superpod in 2017. I believe everyone but the L54 sub-group was there, for a total of 72 whales. It was definitely noticeable that the days are getting shorter as we waited with many other hopeful whale-watchers for the residents to arrive at Lime Kiln Point State Park.

The first large group of whales made up of most of J-Pod and the L12 sub-group headed north on the far side of Haro Strait, while others hit the island to the south of us an initially went south. While for a while there weren't many whales close enough to see, the vocals were still amazing. Here's a clip of what we heard.

Finally our patience paid off as the southern whales also decided to go north. The J19s, K12s, and K13s came by decently close to Lime Kiln, and it was like saying hi to some long-lost friends. I've very much enjoyed getting to know our regional transient killer whales better this season, but it has not filled the void the absence of the Southern Residents for so much of the year has left.

J19 Shachi and J51 Nova

The majority of K-Pod (all but the K14s) had not been seen in inland waters since mid-February. I had seriously been beginning to wonder if for the first time ever I would actually not see them for a season. I was so glad to get the chance to see some whales I hadn't seen yet in 2017, like K33 Tika.

K33 Tika - my first look at him in 2017

There was another gap between this group before any more whales passed by. It quickly got too dark to see, but not before we spotted L87 Onyx heading north offshore in the sunset lighting.

L87 Onyx

The rest of Ks and Ls did pass by after dark, not seen but heard on the hydrophones as the amazing vocals continued. I was so thankful they were going north up to the Fraser River, meaning that they would be around for at least a couple days rather than straight back westbound in the morning. Indeed, they spent the day of September 5th up in the Strait of Georgia, hopefully gorging on salmon. On September 6th, they all made their way back down Haro Strait.

Amazingly, while waiting for them at Lime Kiln, not residents but transients were the first orcas we saw! One group of transients was coming south ahead of the residents, and another group was going north up Haro but did a quick 180 to follow the others south. They were all offshore and porpoising or swimming quickly south. Whether or not this was because of the residents is hard to say for sure, but there are so many anecdotal cases of transients ceding ground to residents that it really does look like avoidance. So fascinating, and so many questions arise about what will happen in the future as transient groups keep getting larger and residents are often fractioning into smaller groups locally.

Transients cruise south in Haro Strait about 45 minutes before the residents arrive

In the gap between the transients and residents, I snapped some photos of the foraging Heermann's gulls off Lime Kiln. They were definitely in the region "on time" for the late summer, but not seen as much for some reason right around San Juan Island until later than usual. Also unusual is the feeding technique I saw from them - more like skimmers than gulls!

 The residents were less than an hour behind the transients, and as they passed they were in two large groups. J-Pod and the L12 sub-group were first. It was cool to see the two oldest males in J-Pod hanging out together, whales about the same age who also used to play together as youngsters:

J26 Mike

J27 Blackberry

The bizarre lighting, by the way, was courtesy of all the regional wildfires. We had a respite from the smoke for a few weeks, but it came back again for a few days before the wind shifted.

The whales made a few quick stops, presumably to forage, giving us a nice head-on look at L121 Windsong next to mom L94 Calypso:

Baby face! L121 Windsong

L94 Calypso and her other offspring, L113 Cousteau

About 20 minutes after the Js and L12s passed by came the rest of the whales, all mixed up!

L82 Kasatka and K36 Yoda

L123 Lazuli behind L55 Nugget

K27 Deadhead

With the recent news of the loss of K13 Skagit, it was especially bittersweet to see K25 Scoter, her oldest son. He was a real mama's boy, so I'm worried about how he'll do without his mother, but it was good to see him going strong for now at least.

K25 Scoter

Sadly, but somewhat predictably, all three pods left after that, but thankfully we didn't have another month to wait before some of them returned. On September 10th we were surprised when the L4s (on their own) showed up in Haro Strait and spent the day doing the westside shuffle. I caught up with them off American Camp.

L82 Kasatka off American Camp on September 10th

The next day, September 11th, most of the rest of L-Pod came in to join them, but interestingly they were in three groups. Two of the groups went north to the Fraser, while the others (the L12s) spent the day off the south end of the island. I only got distant looks at the L12s on the 11th and 12th, but then on September 13th the sub-group of L-Pod made up of 19 whales I call the Greater L4s came back down from the Fraser via San Juan Channel. Two things that seem to make the Southern Residents excited are waking up from a nap and meeting up with other whales. Both of them happened at once as the Ls were exiting Cattle Pass. They were a bit far away, but it was amazing to see all the breaches, cartwheels, and tail slaps from a distance as they made a bee-line for the L12s as they left San Juan Channel.

Distant breach from L92 Crewser

The Greater L4s head for the L12s

With just a matter of weeks left in what is usually the peak whale-watching season and sightings have been so scarce as it is, we decided to jump in the boat and meet up with them again. I'm glad we did, because they all left again that evening. We did catch up with them off of False Bay, where the waters were glassy calm.

On one side we had L55 Nugget, L118 Jade, and L123 Lazuli all rolling around together:

On the other side we had L72 Racer and her son L105 Fluke traveling together under the Olympic Mountains:

L72 Racer and L105 Fluke

More whales were visible in the distance in all directions. Before departing, we dropped the hydrophone, and listening to their distinct echoing calls for about 10 minutes as they headed southwest, a direction that would eventually take them back out to the Pacific. It's hard to know when your last encounter with the Southern Residents for the summer season will be, especially this year when they've been absent far more than present. I fully hope and expect they will still return once or twice in the coming weeks, but I have a feeling this will be the last time with them this year where it really feels like summer. It looks like today (the 16th, as I write this will be our last warm, sunny day for a while, perhaps until next year. Fall is undeniably here, and I just hope the fall salmon runs come and bring the whales back with them for some late season encounters!

July 31st: Js and Ks Rocketing Down Haro

On the evening of July 31st we met up with the J2s, J19s, K13s, and K14s as they zoomed down Haro Strait, presumably to meet up with the rest of J-Pod and the K12s who were off the south end of San Juan Island. When we met up with the whales off Spieden Island, they were all porpoising - always an impressive sight:

It's not easy to photograph porpoising whales: it's hard to predict where they'll come up, and when they do, it's just for a split second before they disappear into their own splash:

After rounding Henry Island, they slowed down a little bit, enough so that we could get some IDs. K26 Lobo was traveling with some of his favorite ladies - his sister K36 Yoda:

K36 Yoda and K26 Lobo, sister and brother

And the elder female from J-Pod, J2 Granny:

K26 Lobo and J2 Granny

As we left the whales still southbound off San Juan County Park, they were pulling in towards shore and I could tell the folks at Lime Kiln were going to be treated to a fantastic, close sunset passby!

July 19th: J2s, K13s, and K14s in the morning

On the morning of July 19th we headed out early, playing a hunch and hoping to find the whales. We didn't have to go too far when we spotted J2 Granny way out in the lead, steaming north. After hanging with her for about 20 minutes, we dropped back to the next group that was about a mile behind, heading north as well but in a bit less of a hurry.

Where Granny goes the rest will follow....at their own pace

The early morning light from the water side in Haro Strait is challenge for IDs, but stunning for backlit blows. This guy, with his towering dorsal fin, is still easily recognizable though.

K26 Lobo

Off Henry Island, the whales arched their back and we could tell they were going down for a long dive. They had just become less directional in their surfacing, so we stopped the boat to see where they would come up next - still heading north, or were they stalling out and turning around as they often do here? Unfortunately our hydrophone had just run out of batteries, so we couldn't eavesdrop on them that way. A couple of minutes ticked by...and then we started hearing orca vocalizations. That's right, our hydrophone wasn't in the water. "Is that someone's ringtone?" Michael asked. No, it wasn't....we were hearing their calls amplified through the hull of our boat! I've heard about this happening to other people but had never experienced it myself until this day. It was unreal! The calls were quiet, but distinct enough where I could identify the individual discrete calls they were making. I really wonder how close they were to the boat. At some point they went under us, but never surfaced - except for little J49 T'ilem I'nges who came up for a breath while everyone else was still down.

J49 T'ilem I'nges

After he went down all the whales remained submerged for several more minutes. Who knows what they were doing down there, or what they were discussing, but when they came up again they were more than 300 yards offshore of us, whereas when they went down they had been hugging the shoreline.

Whatever the case, offshore of us now the lighting was much better for IDs. Maybe they headed out there to catch a boat wake? Because 3-4 of the whales proceeded to surf it, including J14 Samish!

J14 Samish surfs a boat wake

This larger group went down on several more long dives, while we watched K13 Skagit and K25 Scoter cruise quickly north, followed by K20 Spock and K38 Comet. Finally, the large group started spending more time at the surface again, all tightly knit. In this group was J2 Granny and the J14s, as well as the K14s and K27 Deadhead and K44 Ripple. I love seeing so many whales traveling so closely together!

Big tailslap from K26 Lobo

From left to right the three whales in the middle are K36 Yoda, J14 Samish, and J37 Hy'shqa

The reflections were amazing in the still blue water - check out this heavily cropped photo for a closer look:

Beautiful reflections of J37 Hy'shqa's dorsal fin and saddle patch

Again it was J49 T'ilem I'nges who surprised us by breaking off a bit from the group and doing a spyhop a bit closer to the boat! The result was my prize photograph of the morning: (Prints of this photograph can be purchased here.)

J49 T'ilem I'nges spyhop

He wasn't the only one who spyhopped, either:

It was hard to say goodbye, but after a couple hours with them we let the whales continue on their way north:

It was a beautiful encounter - one of my favorites of the summer so far!