For any use of my photos, please contact me at monika.wieland (at) gmail (dot) com

Tuesday, March 24, 2015

A Return to Laguna San Ignacio

In February 2014 I got to go on the trip of a lifetime to visit the friendly gray whales at San Ignacio Lagoon on the Baja Peninsula in Mexico. It's something I had dreamed of doing for over 15 years, and while I knew I would go back, I never imagined it would be so soon. Thanks to being invited along on a group trip with a very good friend of mine, I was fortunate enough to head back south to Laguna San Ignacio last week.

We traveling with the same tour group - Baja Discovery - as I did last year. Their camp is in the best location, right on a prime whale-watching point, so you can watch the whales literally all the time. As I call it, the camp at Punta Piedra is "the Lime Kiln of Baja". We all met in San Diego, then crossed into Mexico and flew down to the lagoon. While on the bus in Tijuana, I spotted my first Mexican year bird: cliff swallow (122).

The flight itself is scenic. At times you can see both the Pacific Ocean and the Sea of Cortez. Here's a shot looking down on an island from the plane as we flew down the Pacific coast:


It wasn't far from here that I saw my first gray whales of the trip - from about 10,000 feet!

Gray whale, as seen from the plane
To get from San Juan Island to the camp at Punta Piedra I travel by ferry, car, plane, bus, plane again, van, and, finally, panga:


While the first evening was taken up most with settling into camp (and not with photography), I did have to step out with the camera to take in the stars on that clear night. Here's the constellation Orion, along with a ton of other stars:


On our first morning at camp, it was the bottlenose dolphins that stole the show. As they would every morning, about 30-40 of them were foraging right off the point. I would later get the first cetacean recording with our new hydrophone of bottlenose dolphin clicks and whistles! On the first day, however, I was thrilled to catch this photo of a jumping dolphin:


The mornings were also great for birding, with lots of shorebirds roosting on the point and others foraging just offshore:

 
 When it was time for our first whale watch, though, the focus turned to gray whales!

The San Juan whale contingent: me, Cindy (who works for Baja Discovery in Mexico and The Whale Museum on San Juan Island), and my friend and research partner Michael
The whale-watching was very different for me this year compared to last year. Last year, we went down with the first trip of the season in early February, when there were still lots of males in the lagoon. Whale-watching is only allowed in the outer portion of the lagoon, and in that area there was lots of mating activity, while the moms with the very young calves were all deeper in the lagoon. This year, in mid-March, all the males have already departed. Pretty much just mothers and calves were left in the lagoon, most of them in the outer lagoon where the boats can go. The whale activity was much less frenzied - unless you count all those calves learning how to breach!






The whales were also a lot "friendlier", in that the calves were the right age to start approaching the boats more than earlier in the season. When they do, it's hard to know what to do - it ends up being some combination of taking pictures/video and just enjoying it! For this first trip, this is about the only good photo I got of the whales approaching before it was time to touch my first baby gray whale :)

Incoming whales! Heading straight for our panga
You might think hanging out at a desert camp on the edge of a lagoon would leave you with lots of time to do nothing, but life at camp is busy! If you're not whale-watching or eating, there's lots of other activities to participate in, such as going on a tidal walk to the mudflats not far from camp. After doing "the stringray shuffle" to cross a tidal creek, I got a flurry of year birds: little blue heron (123), white ibis (124), short-billed dowitcher (125), turkey vulture (126), and American oystercatcher (127):

American oystercatcher with other shorebirds in the background

While I loved all the birds, the highlight of the tidepools were the two-spot octopi. If a female had eggs, it got left alone in its scallop shell home:

Female octopus with eggs in a scallop shell
But when we found one without eggs, we got to briefly take it out to look at it:

Two-spot octopus!
After tide-pooling, it was time for our second whale-watch of the day - life is rough, I know. This time I got a few more photos of a baby checking us out:





All this, and it was only our first full day! I have several more blog posts in the queue to share, but if you're ready for more now, check out this video I put together of our trip. Towards the end is some underwater gray whale footage I shot.


Sunday, March 15, 2015

Boosting the Year List in California

Even though it's been a mild winter in Washington, it's always a nice time of year to head south and get some warm sunshine. Yesterday we arrived in sunny San Diego where they were experiencing their first "nice" Saturday of the season, at a steamy 90 F. (Seemingly everyone was outside, and we kept hearing it was because of the nice weather - I guess 75 and sunny doesn't cut it for the locals.)

Descending into San Diego
As luck would have it, we just overlapped in San Diego with a friend of mine, so we went to meet him in La Jolla for lunch and a walk on the beach. Despite all the chatting to catch up, my eyes were still ticking off the year birds! Brown pelican (93), whimbrel (94), western gull (95), Heermann's gull (96), ring-billed gull (97), osprey (98), willet (99), marbled godwit (100), long-billed curlew (101), royal tern (102). And this was without camera or bincoulars! So sorry, no pictures. I added one more for the day on the way to our hotel: red-shouldered hawk (103).

This morning we had some time to bird my all-time favorite spot, Batiquitos Lagoon. We had originally planned to check out a new spot before the day heated up, but it was so packed there we drove the extra distance to good ol' Batiquitos. It warmed up quite a bit again while we were there, but the birds didn't seem to mind, as we counted about 40 species in an hour and a half there.

Again, the year birds came fast and furious, so much so that I lost count of how many I added until making up the list at the end of the day. First were the mourning doves (104) just after stepping out of the car, followed quickly by house finch (105) - you can tell I still had quite a few of the regular/expected species to add. But then the good stuff started coming! Wrentits (106), snowy egret (107), great egret (108):

Great egret
One of the bigger surprises was two pairs of lesser goldfinches (109)!

Male (green-backed morph) lesser goldfinch
California towhee (110):

California towhee
A black-bellied plover (111) was in with some willets. A nice flock of ruddy ducks (112) were out in the lagoon that was dominated mostly by wigeon and coot. I heard a few common yellowthroat (113). We saw a pair of copulating Cooper's hawks, and what looked like a house wren (114) feeding a fledgling already. There were hummingbirds all over the place but the lighting was never right to identify them with the exception of one male Anna's, but I did see several Cassin's kingbirds (115).

A couple of bushtits (116) were foraging on the ground near a lizard - I love these cute little guys.

Bushtit
Several yellow-rumped warblers (117) foraged with the house finches and song sparrows in the tree tops. After reaching our turnaround point, three American white pelicans (118) flew overhead. I just got the camera up in time to catch the last one before it disappeared behind the trees:

American white pelican)
Since we had also heard marsh wrens near the trailhead, this Bewick's wren (119) made the third wren species of the day:

Bewick's wren
On the way back we added mallard, killdeer, and a singing savannah sparrow (120) to the day list, as well as this long-billed curlew:

Long-billed curlew
Finally, back at the car, I saw a northern mockinbird (121), capping off the morning with a whopping 18 new species added to the year list at Batiquitos (and 29 in my first 24 hours in California). This only serves to get me back in the mix with Dave, who at last count was at 122. It also gives me a nice lead on my dad, at 97, but only momentarily, as he's got a trip up later this month!

Next up the focus will be a bit more on marine mammals than on birds, but you know I never stop looking at the bird life either! By this time next week I expect to have some truly spectacular photos to share.

Sunday, March 8, 2015

It's T Time!

As we get into March and April, we hopefully anticipate whale sightings to start increasing. In years past, this is the time the residents start to spend more time around the San Juans, and in more recent years with the residents elsewhere it has been a time of abundant transient sightings. So far, March is shaping up to be a transient kinda month!

On Thursday, March 5th, I heard a group of transients was out in the middle of Haro Strait. It was too tempting not to take a long lunch break to go investigate! We met up with the T18s near Kelp Reef. T18 Esperanza was nearby but off on her own, while T19 Mooyah was traveling with her two sons T19B Galiano and T19C Spouter. (This group is among the transients named by the Vancouver Aquarium.)

From left to right: T19B, T19C, and T19
They were swimming in circles, intermittently fanning out and then joining up again. That unpredictable surface behavior combined with long dive times led to this unexpected close surfacing by T19B. I've seen this whale a decent amount over the years, and he's definitely grown up, because our little boat felt downright tiny as he approached!

T19B Galiano
T19C, meanwhile, was sporting some pretty serious battle scars on one side of his dorsal fin:


Because I had to get back to work, we just had a short jaunt out on the 5th, though I heard later on that these whales met up with the T60s and T2B.

On Saturday, March 7th, the weather was just to beautiful to not get on the water again. I wanted to wait until the afternoon, hopeful that whales would show up....and they did! Around mid-day I heard about another group of transients on the west side of San Juan Island. Several of us met up and took out Serenity, and we came across the first whales just slightly south of our home port. The first whales we saw were T137A and T137B; we knew their other two family members had to be around somewhere. When these two whales went IN to Open Bay and gulls started circling overhead, we assumed they had made a kill, and this seemingly attracted mom T137 and the youngest, three year-old T137C.

T137 (age 32) and T137C (age 3)

T137A (age 13) and T137B (age 9)

Eventually the whales came out of the bay and rounded Henry Island. Near Battleship Island we saw harbor porpoise speeding right towards us....away from the whales. Sure enough, they made another kill here, of a harbor porpoise. All the whales were circling and converging, undoubtedly prey sharing.

T137, T137A, and T137 B converge and feed together

What happened next was something I've never seen before. One of the whales (I later determined it was T137A) spyhopped, shaking its head back and forth (in head-banging fashion) with a piece of meat in its mouth. I was excited when I saw it, but even more so when I looked at the pictures later: the piece of meat was actually a fully intact harbor porpoise fetus!!

T137A with harbor porpoise fetus

Just imagine the dexterity required to remove that from the mother intact....I know many people are sad to see a photo like this, but it just left me in awe to witness it live!

After finishing their meal and the four whales grouped up and started heading towards Stuart Island. About now most of the other boats on scene took off, leaving us with the whales! It's the first time I've had to try and track transients on my own. When they zig-zag all over the place and take long dives (these guys were going down for 6 minutes at a time) you never know where they might pop up next. Luckily, the waters were like glass so we could see them from far away regardless of where they popped up.

The T137s


On one surfacing they suddenly made a left turn and started heading across Haro. This group of whales has recently spent a lot of time in Puget Sound and got the reputation for being boat curious. For whatever reason, in the whole wide straight, they chose to pass by right off our stern. (They didn't really seem especially curious about us, though - they just seemed to not care we were there.)

13 year-old male T137A. Focal length on the zoom lens was just 86mm for this shot!
Once they passed us, their blows looked awesome:


We followed them over towards Gooch in Canadian waters. The blows just got more impressive as the sun lowered in the sky.

T137A off Forrest Island in BC
T137A split off from the other three for a while. We thought (or hoped) they might be trying to stir up something else to eat, but they seemed content to just slowly continue on their way.

T137 and T137B

We got one last, nice look of T137A with Mt. Baker in the background:

Mt. Baker, the very distant Turn Point Light Station, and T137A

On the way home we got an unexpected grand finale when a few Dall's porpoise came over and rode the bow (and stern wake) on Serenity. It was the first time we've had playful porpoise on our boat, and it turns out our low-to-the-water ride is in the perfect splash zone for rooster-tailing Dall's! They drenched the windshield and some of my passengers before we went out separate ways.

In the end, we spent an amazing four hours with the T137s; that's among the longest length of time I've been able to follow one family group of whales (resident or transient) and see what they do. It's super interesting to watch them over a period of hours rather than just getting a snapshot of their day when they pass by land or on a commercial whale-watching trip. Because I'm such a nerd, I made this little map to show where we followed them:


So far March is off to an AMAZING start!!

Thursday, February 26, 2015

Why Now Is The Time To Breach The Snake River Dams

This morning I got the welcome news that the Southern Resident population increased by one more, with the birth of L121 to L94, spotted by NOAA researcher Brad Hanson on the outer coast research cruise that's currently underway. This is fantastic, the third calf in less than two months after we went over two years without a birth. Yet the fact remains that these endangered orcas number just 80 whales, down from 87 at the time of their endangered listing ten years ago.

There are those who would like to dispute this because it's a complicated problem to tackle, but it is clear that generating more Chinook salmon for these whales is the number one way we can increase their chances of survival. The other major risk factors - toxins and vessel effects - are compounded by a lack of food. When the whales aren't getting enough to eat, they metabolize their pollutant-filled fat stores and compromise their immune system and reproductive capacity. When there aren't enough fish, any noise from boats might make it harder for the whales to find the few fish that are there. Increase the number of salmon, and both these other problems decrease as well.

The big question is how to generate more fish. A series of workshops and several years of data analysis by NOAA and DFO determined that increasing fishing regulations wouldn't be enough of an impact. Population modeling has shown that even if we stop fishing, the amount of fish that makes available to the whales isn't significant enough to stimulate population recovery. Fishing is just one piece of an already small pie (where the pie is the number of salmon out there). We need to make a bigger pie.

K25 Scoter with a salmon in his mouth
Luckily, we have a potential action before us that could drastically increase the amount of salmon in the Pacific Northwest. Not by tens or even hundreds of thousands of fish, but by millions of fish. Remove (or breach) the four lower Snake River dams.

At first, you may wonder what role the Snake River, way over there in eastern Washington and Oregon (and Idaho and Wyoming) has to do with food for Southern Residents. It is now widely known that the primary summer food source of Southern Residents is Fraser River Chinook, but what are they eating the rest of the year? It makes sense that while they spend time on the outer coast in the winter, they're feeding on fish from the Columbia River, the largest salmon-producing river on the west coast. The Snake River is the largest tributary to the Columbia.

NOAA's 2008 Southern Resident Killer Whale recovery plan states, "Perhaps the single greatest change in food availability for resident killer whales since the late 1800s has been the decline of salmon from the Columbia River basin." Fecal and prey samples from the outer coast are hard to gather and so far are small in number, but two samples thus far have shown conclusive evidence that Southern Residents are feeding on Upper Columbia and Snake River Chinook in the winter months. Dr. Rich Osborne, long-time orca and salmon scientist, said, "Restoring Columbia River Chinook is the single most important thing we can do to ensure the future survival of the Southern Resident Community of killer whales." According to Save Our Wild Salmon, removing the four lower Snake River dams would open up over 15 million acres of prime salmon habitat.

A vessel track of the Bell Shimada.  NOAA's research team is spending three weeks following the Southern Residents to study their winter habits. Here they are zig-zagging back and forth off the mouth of the Columbia River on February 19, 2015.
During the 1990s, 13 Snake River fish stocks were listed as threatened or endangered. This led to an expensive study about how to improve the Snake River for salmon, examining different alternatives including breaching the dams. The environmental impact statement included in the report said the highest probability of restoring the endangered salmon runs was by dam breaching, but the economic analysis showed this to be an unfavorable option, and in 2002 the Walla Walla District of the Army Corps of Engineers chose to pursue other options. This decision was contentious at the time, but it's become even more so now.

Civil engineer Jim Waddell, who was featured in the documentary DamNation, has spent hundreds of hours reanalyzing the report and has confirmed what many have long suspected - that the economic analyses was seriously flawed.  The estimates weren't just off by a million dollars here or there, but the underlying assumptions that went into their figures were wrong, leading to a drastic difference in results. The 2002 Army Corps report concluded that the four lower Snake River dams generate $246 million dollars a year in net revenue. Jim's corrected analysis (including omitted data, fixing miscalculations, and brought forward to 2015), shows the dams are actually costing us $217 million dollars a year to maintain. 

These numbers are staggering and the data behind them is hundreds of not thousands of pages long, but here is one example of where the numbers were off. The Army Corps report stated that breaching the dams would result in $82 million dollars of increased revenue per year based on increased opportunities for rafting, fishing, etc. If you delve into the report to discover where this number came from, it came from an economic analysis that listed the projected economic benefit of increased recreation as ranging from $82-350 million per year. They chose the lowest possible number from that range to include in their data. Jim's updated analysis uses a more realistic figure of $158 million per year - still below the mid-point of the projection, but more realistic based on studies that show recreation on public waters is the biggest single category of recreational spending in Washington state and that salmon sport fishing may produce more economic benefit than any other type of river recreation.

Other examples of the errors in their initial economic analysis are failing to factor in adequate costs of maintaining the dams, maintaining hatcheries, and dredging the river as required for navigation and transport. If you want to read further details about the economic data I can get you plenty to read on the subject, but after the few hours I've spent reading up on it, I can tell you I'm convinced that these dams are costing us - the taxpayers - money.

The main benefits provided by these dams are transportation of freight and hydroelectric power. Over the past 20 years the volume of freight transported on the lower Snake River has declined by 69%. The current volume of freight transferred is so low that it is considered, by definition, a waterway of negligible use. 

Over the past 10 years, the four lower Snake River dams have only been producing about a third of their capacity. This has to do with the timing of stream flow relative to the needs of the power grid; the main power output from these dams occurs when we don't need the power. These dams contribute about 4% of the power needed in the Pacific Northwest, but it is feasible to replace these power needs via wind turbines (output of which is constantly growing in the northwest) along with energy conservation and efficiency upgrades.

Especially when I look at Jim's 100 year projections of the economic costs, it is clear to me that these dams will come down. It's just a matter of when. These dams were built over 60 years ago and are at or nearing their anticipated lifespans. It will take a lot of money to maintain them, and doing so just doesn't make sense when our needs for them for transport and electricity are diminishing and the benefits of removing them are so high. Here is why now is the time to breach these dams:

  • The dams are costing tax payers money every year, and will continue to do at an increasing rate over the next 100 years
  • The dams are at or near their life spans. There are 24 turbines that will need to be replaced in the next 10-15 years, with the first three in the process of being replaced now. Let's let these obsolete structures go now rather than investing more money into their repair.
  • Removing these dams is the single most significant action we can take to help the endangered Southern Residents recover. The orcas can't wait dozens of years for this dam removal to happen - they need more fish now.
  • With all the uncertainties climate change poses for our future, it is clear that if we want wild salmon to survive we need to protect and preserve our salmon strongholds. We need large, healthy populations of fish capable of adapting to changing circumstances. Removing these dams would seriously bolster Columbia River salmon runs and make this river basin a true salmon stronghold.
  • All the questions about whether or not dam removal would be successful have been answered by the Elwha River. The river is returning to health (and the fish are returning to the river) faster than anyone could have anticipated. Dam removal has indisputable results for restoring an ecosystem

I haven't wanted to bog this post down with citations and links, but I hope I have convinced you of the importance of removing these dams, and that the sooner we do it the better. Again, if you want to look directly at the sources I'm happy to point you in the right direction. The next question, of course, is what we can do to make this happen. Oregon and Washington have long been states that idolize hydropower as part of their heritage and their future. While it may have been true for us at one point, the times have changed, and only myths are maintaining that idea. We have to change the political will in our region towards dam removal in general, and for these dams in particular. Politicians and other policy makers have heard for decades about the negative effects dams have on salmon, but there are two new pieces to the story here that have been receiving more and more media attention: the economic reanalysis that shows these dams are costing us money, and the fact that removing these dams could be critical to the recovery of our endangered orcas. We need to spread this message far and wide, both to politicians and to the general public. Whether this means sharing posts like this one through social media or talking to your family and friends is up to you. Here are some other concrete actions you can take:

  • If you are local, attend one of the upcoming town hall meetings with Representative Rick Larsen. He hasn't taken a stance on the removal of these dams yet, but we want plenty of people present to tell him how important it is to us. He is holding a meeting on San Juan Island on Tuesday, March 10th from 3:30-5:00 at the Friday Harbor House, plus a meeting March 12 in Bellingham, and March 14 in Everett, Langley, and Mount Vernon.
  • If you are regional (Oregon and Washington), write to your politicians about this issue. Hand written letters are taken the most seriously, followed by typed letters printed out and mailed in. E-mails and phone calls are good, too. We need to raise awareness about this issue to everyone from the governors and senators to our local representatives.
  • Regardless of where you are, sign and share this petition. The group I'm working with, the Southern Resident Killer Whale Chinook Salmon Initiative (or SRKW CSI), is behind the petition and we've already gathered over 10,000 signatures. I have it on the authority of some of the lobbyists that went to Washington DC a few weeks ago that there are people in power keeping an eye on how much traction this petition and others like are getting.

Tuesday, February 24, 2015

A Sunset From Serenity

After a very gray January, the weather has been unbelievably mild this February, with lots of sunshine and temperatures in the 50s. That means I've done a bit more birding, though the year list has only creeped up a little bit. I heard a barred owl (85) at home, and added Virginia rail (86) and Cooper's hawk (87) at Three Meadows Marsh. A drive around the center of the island last Saturday turned up lesser scaup (88) and western meadowlarks (89), then Monday morning when leaving for work I heard a brown creeper (90).

The weather has also been conducive to getting out a lot on our new boat, Serenity. While I'm always hopeful for whales, I haven't had another orca encounter since February 12th (though one morning we went out looking after J-Pod had been heard on the hydrophones before sunrise and just missed them!) Still, it's been awesome to be on the water and there's been plenty of great wildlife and scenery.

Sunrise in San Juan Channel

Steller sea lions in Spieden Channel

Bald Eagle on Spieden Island

Mouflon sheep ram on Spieden Island
One of the best boat trips yet came last Sunday on February 22nd when I went out with some friends late in the afternoon.

Monika, Julie, Katie, and Traci on Serenity - thanks for the photo Traci!

After looping around Stuart Island looking for cetaceans (we did find a few harbor porpoise) we could tell by the clouds to the west that things were shaping up for a good sunset. We decided to hang out in Haro Strait to watch it, and that was a very good decision! At first the waters were glassy calm.


We cruised slowly down the shoreline looking at wildlife as the colors kept getting brighter.

Pelagic cormorant hitching a ride on driftwood

Harbor seals
A bald eagle perched above its nest
As the Lime Kiln Lighthouse came into view, we couldn't believe our eyes: in clear weather we can see Mt. Rainier from the San Juans (about 130 miles from Lime Kiln as the crow flies), but I have never seen it like this! It was much clearer (and seemingly much larger) than usual.


Then as we cruised back up north, that's when the colors of the sunset really started to take off. It's been a long time since I've taken this many sunset photos! One reason it was so unique is that it wasn't just the oranges, pinks, and yellows, but there was still a lot of blue in the sky, too!




The reflections in the water were a worthy photographic subject in their own right:


It was my first sunset from Serenity, and it was a perfect one. We just sat floating in the strait taking it all in, and taking tons of pictures!


Even when it was finally time to go in, one more breath-taking sight awaited us.

A great blue heron silhouetted against the sunset

I'm sure loving this whole boat thing, and so far we've only had it from November-February, which are supposedly the "worst" months!