Day of the Dead ~ 6th Annual Tribute

Every year on the Day of the Dead (or Dia de los Muertos), I write a blog post honoring the Southern Resident Killer Whales that we've lost during the previous year. You can find the whole series of blog posts here. Last year was a particular sad post, as there had been three deaths and no births to the population. This year there's a little bit of a different story to tell; with two deaths and six births since my last Day of the Dead post, the population has risen from 78 to 82 animals.

J32 ~ Rhapsody

In early December of 2014 we heard the tragic news that a killer whale had washed up dead near Comox, BC. From photographs it was quickly determined to be J32 Rhapsody, and the subsequent necropsy had even sadder news: she was pregnant with a full term fetus that had preceded her in death, and it's thought that she died from an infection that resulted from being unable to expel the fetus. After having no successful births into the population for over two years, losing a prime age reproductive female with a full term calf was an especially sharp blow. A dark cloud was definitely hanging over the whole whale community with Rhapsody's death.

But it was important for us not to forget Rhapsody's zest for life. She loved to breach more than most, and even had a distinct style to it that sometimes made it possible to identify her just by how she was jumping out of the water.

J32 Rhapsody breaching in August 2013 - she would have been just a few months pregnant here

Rhapsody was born in 1996 to 15 year-old J20 Ewok. Rhapsody's family life turned upside down in 1998 when her mother died. Luckily she was "adopted" by her aunt J22 Oreo, who had just had her own calf, J34 Doublestuf. The matriline would continue to experience tragedy over the next couple years, as Rhapsody's grandmother J10 Tahoma died in 1999 and her uncle J18 Everett in 2000. Oreo, Doublestuf, and Rhapsody became a tight threesome that survived, joined later in 2003 by J38 Cookie.

Strong family bonds last a lifetime to resident killer whales. J32 Rhapsody on the right was tight with her adopted mom J22 Oreo, center, and adopted brother J34 Doublestuf, left. September 2012.

In addition to her adopted family, Rhapsody also spent quite a bit of time with other whales, especially those with calves. Perhaps she liked spending time among their youngters in preparation for becoming a mother herself.

J32 Rhapsody, left, with young mom J37 Hy'shqa in 2014 - 6 months before Rhapsody's death.

It was hard to fathom that we had lost Rhapsody at just 18 years of age. The silver lining that came out of her death, however, was that finally, people were outraged. The Southern Residents had been listed on the Endangered Species Act for 10 years, yet nothing substantial had been done to improve their fate and Rhapsody was a prime example of that. Rhapsody's death became a rallying point for activists who strongly felt the government was not doing enough to protect the whales, and her story became a focal point in the fight to breach the four Lower Snake River dams that would dominate 2015. As tragic as her death was, it certainly was not in vain.

L27 ~ Ophelia

In contrast to Rhapsody's death, which received a lot of media attention, Ophelia quietly passed away in the late summer of 2015, at the estimated age of 50. Part of the L4 matriline, she played an important role as aunt and babysitter to many of the young whales in that family group. In a family where many of the whales have fairly nondescript dorsal fins and solid saddle patches, she also stood out with her short fin with a notch in it, and distinct left and right saddles that each had a slight finger.

L27 Ophelia balancing a piece of kelp on her rostrum

Ophelia was estimated to be born in 1965. She had four known calves of her own, but sadly they all preceded her in death at ages of 3 (L80 Odessa and L93 Nerka), 10 (L68 Elwha), and 20 (L62 Cetus). 

L27 Ophelia with newborn calf L68 Elwha in 1985 - Photo by Fred Felleman

From 1996 onward she was the oldest female in the L4 matriline and would often be seen out in front leading the way, but just as often she would be right in with the youngsters of her sisters. It seems to be the fate of some adult females to be the "aunties", or caretakers and aides to the young of others (J8 Spieden comes to mind as another one), and this was a role that Ophelia filled with zeal.

L27 Ophelia (left) with her sister L86 Surprise and year-old L112 Sooke in 2010

One of my strongest memories of her is from the fall of 2014 where she never left the side of newborn L120, who lived for just seven weeks.

L27 Ophelia with L86 Surprise! and newborn L120 in September 2014

L-Pod has a real shortage of reproductive age females who are successfully producing offspring. The L4s are one of the few matrilines that carry the potential for the future of L-Pod, and I have no doubt that one reason they have had been raising some successful young is because of the help over the years from Ophelia. She will be missed.

L27 Ophelia in June 2015

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Each year in this blog post I always like to take a moment to honor not only the lives that have been lost, but the new additions to the Southern Residents. Amazingly, since this time last year, there have been no less than six new births into the community.

While the gloom of Rhapsody's death still hung over the whale world, J50 Scarlet was a true bringer of hope when she was first seen on December 30, 2014. She is the sixth known calf of J16 Slick, who at an estimated age of 42 at the time of birth was tied for the oldest documented Southern Resident mother.

J50 Scarlet with mom J16 Slick in February 2015

Then just six weeks later in February, at the other end of the spectrum, J41 Eclipse became the youngest-ever documented Southern Resident mother at just 9 years old when she gave birth to her first, J51 Nova.

J51 Nova in June 2015

Two weeks after that, still in February, we got word from NOAA's outer coast research cruise that they spotted new baby L121 Windsong with mother L94 Calypso (her second calf.)

L121 Windsong in August 2015

And they weren't done yet! At the end of March, another new baby was seen in the J16 matriline - J52 Sonic, who is the firstborn of J36 Alki.

J52 Sonic and J36 Alki in August 2015

The next new birth came in early September, when another first-time mother L91 Muncher had her first calf, L122.

L91 Muncher and L122 in September 2015

And finally, just over a week ago, on October 24th J17 Princess Angeline was seen with her fourth known offspring, a new little one designated J53 who I haven't had the chance to meet yet!

As exciting as these SIX new births are, it's important to remember that they don't mean all is well with the Southern Residents. This means there are six more mouths to feed, and this population is still facing a real uphill battle trying to find enough of their primary prey, Chinook salmon. Some have pointed out that it's likely no coincidence that these little ones were conceived during or near a winter when there was a particularly strong Columbia River Chinook return. It's up to us to do our part to make sure they continue to have enough to eat as they grow and hopefully thrive. Fingers crossed this really is the turning point for Southern Resident Killer Whale recovery, but there's a lot of work yet to be done.

Two Weeks, Two Strandings

On December 4th came the sad news that a dead killer whale had washed up near Comox, British Columbia. It took a few hours before we knew the identity of the whale, and sadly we learned it was J32 Rhapsody, an 18 year-old female in J-Pod.

J32 Rhapsody breaches in the Strait of Juan de Fuca in August 2013

Often, when a whale dies, we may not know for weeks or months. For Southern Residents, who are always in such tight family groups, our best evidence of a whale death is typically the rest of its family returning to inland without it. It's unusual for us to know right when a whale dies, and even rarer for the body to be recovered. A large group of whales, presumably J-Pod, had been seen near Comox on December 3^rd. When she was first seen floating off the beach on the morning of December 4^th, Rhapsody had probably been dead less than 24 hours. 

It's sad when we lose any whale, but particularly when it's a breeding-age female, the age/sex class so critical if this population is going to recover. Earlier this season, rumors were running rampant that Rhapsody might be pregnant, because she looked particularly robust in several breach photos. She's always been a round whale, and there's no reliable visible signs of pregnancy on orcas, so we didn't know if she was really carrying a calf or not, but at 18 years of age, we were all surely hoping she was. The gift in her death will be the knowledge we could gain from her. Was she fertile or infertile? Was she pregnant, or has she ever miscarried? What's in her stomach? What are her toxin loads? What diseases does she carry? Why did she die?  

J32 Rhapsody right off the rocks at Lime Kiln in June 2014

A necropsy occurred two days later with dozens of people, including Ken Balcomb, in attendance. The first news to emerge from the day is that several of Rhapsody's teeth have been illegally sawed off and taken as souvenirs by someone overnight. The next news is that Rhapsody was indeed pregnant, with a full term calf. It's a devastating blow to this population, particularly because we later find out the calf was female. About a week later Ken Balcomb posts an informal summary of the necropsy; the official report is probably at least weeks away, since numerous lab tests are still pending. In short, the fetus preceded Rhapsody in death. She appeared to get an infection from difficulty in expelling the calf, and this ultimately resulted in her death.

As 2014 draws to a close, we have gone 28 months without a successful birth among the Southern Residents. L120 was the first known birth in two years, in September, but he/she only lived for seven weeks. With Rhapsody's death, we now know we've lost not only a breeding female, but another potential calf as well.

It's a tough blow. The Southern Residents are down to just 77 whales, lower than when they were listed as endangered in 2005. But the silver lining is that this seems to have sparked a new, stronger wave of dedication and activism, and as the momentum is building, I can only hope that we see big things happen in 2015, for the sake of the orcas. I will definitely be in the middle of it all, doing everything I can.

There are a lot of photos of Rhapsody lying dead on the beach, so if you want to see those you can easily find them elsewhere. I prefer to remember her as she was in life - a vivacious young whale, full of so much potential:

J32 Rhapsody, August 2014

A week to the day after Rhapsody's necropsy, I'm at home on a Saturday morning when I read on Facebook a report of a small dead killer whale washed up on South Beach, here on San Juan Island. It can't be, I tell myself. But with J-Pod having headed west the day before, the doubts creep in. I know it's probably a Dall's porpoise, but I have to go look. I brace myself on the drive down for what I might see.

I arrive at the same time as another local whale lover, and we're the first ones on scene. We see an eagle sitting on the beach next to a carcass and start heading that way. At first it looks like a sea lion, but as we get closer, I can see the pectoral fin and tail flukes sticking up in the air. My heart jumps to my throat for a split second as we get even closer, until I can see for sure that it is in fact a Dall's porpoise. It's an amazingly fresh animal - dead, but completely in tact. 

It's fascinating to see an animal like this up close. The fear that chased me down here starts to give way to wonder at seeing a cetacean like this up close.

It's an adult female, a little over six feet long and probably weighing about 300 pounds. There's no sign of trauma on her anywhere - no rake marks from transients, no wounds or signs of disease. The only thing I notice is that it looks like she hardly has any teeth!

I learn later that Dall's porpoise have very unusual teeth to begin with. The teeth are very small and are separated by growths called "gum teeth". So maybe this isn't so unusual, though I the expert that does the necropsy confirms that some of her teeth were indeed missing.

A crowd has begun to gather by this time, including some members of the stranding network and other curious whale folks who had the same fears I did when they heard the report. Among them is one of our local whale watch captains, who is celebrating a big birthday and has the extended family in town. This proves to be fortunate, because we have to find a way to get the animal down the beach to a truck so it can be transported to the Friday Harbor Labs where the necropsy will occur. A little ingenuity goes a long way, as we fashioned a sling out of some driftwood and straps out of someone's car and took turns carrying her the quarter-mile or so to the parking area.

As we load her into the back of a truck, I think we all feel a moment of sadness. It was a huge relief that we didn't have another dead killer whale on our hands, but the loss of this porpoise is a sad thing to witness, too.

Her necropsy occurs two days later, and while I don't attend, I get a full report from a couple friends. It turns out this stranded cetacean was pregnant, too, but with a male calf no where near full term. It's determined she was an older animal that died of a bad lung infection. Her stomach and intestines were empty, indicating that she probably wasn't able to eat for some time because of the disease.

We get the opportunity to learn an amazing amount from cetaceans when they strand, but after two such experiences in two weeks, I'm definitely ready for all of the local whales, dolphins, and porpoises to stay in the water, alive and well, where they belong!

September 6th: Five Epic Hours of Whales and Wildlife at Lime Kiln

With word the night before that all three pods were inbound from the ocean, I knew I should get out to Lime Kiln early on the morning of Saturday, September 6th. When I got out to the park at about 7:00, it was one of those blissfully peaceful mornings, so calm you can hear the porpoises breathing. I was sitting on the rocks about half an hour after arriving listening to those soft exhalations: Pfft.......Pfft. Suddenly, I heard a different noise. Faint - far away - but distinct. Kawoof! That was no porpoise!

It was pretty magical for me to hear the orcas before I  saw them. After hearing two breaths, I started scanning to the south and spotted a dorsal fin a mile or so away, but heading north towards me! Fighting an ebb tide, it took this first small group of whales a looonnnng time to get to Lime Kiln. When the first one finally arrived, I wasn't too surprised to see it was J2 Granny!

J2 Granny surfaces in the beautiful early morning light off Lime Kiln

Not far behind Granny were J16 Slick and her son J26 Mike. I could see more blows to the south, but very spread out, and when Mike stopped to forage for a while off Lime Kiln it was clear the whales weren't in any hurry to go anywhere. Eventually, over the next two hours, the rest of J-Pod "Group A" came by heading north: the rest of the J16s, the J14s, the J19s, and L87 Onyx:

L87 Onyx - look at that reflection of the dorsal fin!

Whales were visible pretty much all the time, but in the gaps when there weren't any close, there was so much other wildlife to look at it! It was just all around a very photogenic morning.

The first rays of sunlight on Lime Kiln Lighthouse

A belted kingfisher - the best photo I've ever gotten of one in flight!

The harbor seal action was incredible, too. There were at least three seals fishing right off the park throughout the morning, and they caught at least three large fish throughout the morning.

Harbor seal with a fish. He was looking at me with eyes like he thought I might steal it from him! The water looks so gray because this was before the sun really came up over the island - it was early!

Two harbor seals - much nicer lighting after the sun arrived!

A little early morning yoga, harbor seal style!

Once Group A had continued north in their ones and twos, which took until almost 10 AM, I could see a lot of blows all at once off Land Bank to the south. Yesss!! Who could this be? Turns out it was all of Group B (J11s, J17s, J22s) traveling together, most of them right along the shoreline!

Photographer and whales - the best of shore-based whale-watching!

I love this shot because it shows just how close to shore the whales come! When you see them appearing over or around the rocks, you know you're a few moments away from an incredible treat!

Not only were they close, the lighting couldn't have been better! I've spent a lot of early mornings on the west side this summer without seeing anything, but this one panning out made it all worth it!

I've gotten photos of orcas and harbor seals in the same shot when I've been on a boat, but this was the first time I had a chance to take a shot like this from shore! Usually the harbor seals are on the rocks behind the whales, but this time the harbor seal is in the foreground!

The lighting was such that you could see the whales underwater as they swam past, truly one of the most magical experiences. Unfortunately the surface was just a bit too disturbed to get clear underwater photos, but it still led to some neat abstract shots. I really like photos like this, though I've learned over the years that unless you've looked at as many whales and whale photos as I have, it's not always clear what you're seeing! Here's one showing just the head of the whale underwater, and you're seeing the white chin, white eye patch, and the beginning of her exhalation:

Here's the next photo in the sequence to help you better visualize what you're seeing:

Here's another set of three shots where you can see a whale underwater, right before she comes up and surfaces onto the back of the whale in front of her!

Then in this one even I'm not sure of what all is visible in terms of how many whales or which body parts you're seeing, but I like it anyway! I do see the head of one whale in the middle, right above the ripple across the middle of the photo. That whale is "upside down" compared to the ones in the photos above.

Not only was the light amazing for seeing under water, it was perfect above water, too! How about this "rainblow" from J32 Rhapsody?

A beautiful "rainblow" from J32 Rhapsody

Two whales were trailing just a minute or two behind the main group, and all of a sudden they raced by to catch up. It was J28 Polaris and J46 Star.

J28 Polaris

At this time I wasn't even sure if all three pods had made it in, or stayed in for that matter. But when all of Js had gone by, I was still seeing blows to the south, so I knew somebody else was here! About 20 minutes after the Js came the K14s. As is always the case on these epic passbys, as soon as they had passed, the next set of whales was approaching. Following the K14s were the K12s, and then the K13s in three spread out groups of their own. The final two whales to pass were K20 Spock and K38 Comet.

K20 Spock and K38 Comet

When all of Ks had gone by (we're talking about a little over 4 hours of whales slowly passing by at this point), there were still more blows to the south! These whales (they had to be Ls, by the process of elimination, as everyone else but three K-Pod whales had been sen at this point) were milling, and while I waited to see if they would make their way up, the harbor seals continued to entertain.

It looked like the seals were catching salmon:

I'm not sure if these two both saw the same fish at the same time or what, but they proceeded to fight over one good sized fish right in front of me!

The action was happening so fast I was just clicking the shutter with no real idea of what I was capturing, but it was a real treat to go home and look through my pictures later! Here's one seal lunging out of the water right at the other:

And my gem seal shot of the day, one of the seals completely submerged underwater but visible holding a very tattered salmon in his mouth!

In the end, the whales to the south turned and went back south, but I couldn't complain! After five hours and more than five hundred photos at Lime Kiln, it had truly been an epic morning. Ultimately Js and Ks continued north to the Fraser River while the 3 K-Pod whales and all of L-Pod spent their whole day off the southwest side of San Juan Island. Big news came in the afternoon, however, when the Center for Whale Research announced that they had documented a new calf, L120, born to L86 Surprise!

If you've been reading my blog throughout the summer, you've probably heard me mention that J49 Ti'lem I'nges was the last calf born to the Southern Residents - in August of 2012! We had to wait an astonishing 25 months to welcome the next new member to the population. While we were all beyond thrilled to hear about this new little one's arrival, the long drought with no babies is certainly a cause for concern. The very latest research from the Conservation Canine crew (the folks that use scat-detection dogs to  collect killer whale fecal samples for some pretty cutting edge hormone analysis) is that it looks like the whales are getting pregnant, but seem to be miscarrying, perhaps due to nutritional stress. It goes back to the very same core message: no fish, no blackfish.

The arrival of this little one was also a little bittersweet because of the family group he/she was born in to. The last whale born to L86 Surprise! (yes the exclamation point is officially part of the name) met an unfortunate fate. You can read about L112 Sooke on one of my previous blog posts here.

But I don't mean to digress too far into the sad side of things - the arrival of L120 was a very happy day! So happy that I got tears in my eyes when I heard the news. It would take a few days until I would have the opportunity to meet L120 for myself, but I would get a chance to see him/her before too long!! Stay tuned for those photos - you won't believe how small a 6 foot long, 400 pound cetacean can look!