It's easier to watch transients from a boat

This morning on the Western Prince we departed from Canoe Island (with the French Camp aboard for a charter) without an orca report - but as we headed south down San Juan Channel, we got a report of whales inbound from Trial Island. We headed out into the Strait of Juan de Fuca without finding out which whales were there, since we were excited enough to get an orca report at all. We assumed it was some group of residents, since they've been split up into 4 or more groups in the last week or so. As we approached though we heard over the radio that they had "just made a kill" - something that definitely refers to the marine mammal feeding transients! It turns out we were looking at a group of what us whale-watchers affectionately call "Ts".

As the whales came into sight they were breaching and tail-slapping, unusual behaviors for the otherwise low-profile transients and something they usually only do after completing a kill when stealth is no longer necessary. The one big male in the group, later identified as T20, repeatedly raised his large, curved flukes in the air and slapped them down on the water.

T20 travels with female T21, who was also seen in the group. There seemed to be about 4-5 other whales, and other whale-watchers had told us the T124s were there. The T124s refers to a large family that currently travels in four separate groups. Based on the presence of a very small juvenile, I'm assuming that we had the four T124As, and the little calf was T124A3, who was born in 2006. Did you follow that? (I think they need to come up with a better method for naming transients, although that would probably just add to the confusion at this point.)

Resident and transient orcas are the same species, and to the casual observer look entirely the same. After looking at residents day after day for many summers in a row, however, I'm amazed at how different they really are. Transients sound different when they breathe at the surface (shorter, quieter breaths, probably part of their stealthy instincts). They also have distinctly pointed dorsal fins. Look at this comparison between a sharply pointed transient fin on the left and a rounded resident fin on the right:

The transient eyepatches also struck me as being larger than those on the residents. Juvenile T124A2 (looked to be a few years older than 2006 born calf T124A3) in particular has an amazing eyepatch. Not only is it especially large, but its oddly shaped and has a black mark in it:

Who says you can't watch transients from shore?

You can - the opportunity just doesn't come very often and they'll probably be reeeaaaalllly far away.

The above photo was taken last night from Cattle Pass, looking across towards Lopez Island. Despite there being three groups of residents in the area, the best opportunity for shore-based whale-watching was actually of this relatively large (~8 animals) group of transients that were making their way south down San Juan Channel.

For those who aren't familiar, residents refers to our fish-eating Southern Resident Community of killer whales, which are called residents because they spend a lot of time in the area from May-September feeding on the salmon that are spawning to the Fraser River. Transients refers to another type of killer whales. They occur in much smaller groups, roam much farther with much less predictability, and feed primarily on marine mammals. Residents and transients are all part of the same species, Orcinus orca, but despite inhabiting the same geographic area they do not interact, socialize, or breed with one another - and genetic evidence suggests this has been the case for the last 10,000 years, or since the glaciers receded from this area.

Birds Watching Whales

Last night was one of those peaceful, beautiful, early evening encounters with the whales. In contrast to the dozens of boats and crowds of people watching the whales from Lime Kiln State Park earlier in the afternoon, it was a quiet shoreline with calm waters so you could hear the whales' every breath. I noticed a lot of sea gulls flying around while I was taking pictures of the whales, but only realized after I got home how comical they made some of the photos. They were just begging to have captions.

Don't hit me with your spray! One gull narrowly avoids the spout of Riptide (J30), which on such a calm night plumed up to 20 feet in the air.

Watching me, watching you: a whale spyhops while a sea gull looks down from above.

The race is on: who's faster, an orca or a gull?

Within 100 yards: doesn't this gull know his little boat, complete with a mast, has to stay at least 100 yards away from the whales?

Whoops, not a log: This gull swooped down right over Shachi (J19), Eclipse (J41), and Suttles (J40), almost as if it was mistaking them for a log to land on.

Finally, just before the evening's end, was the "payoff" for hours of watching and waiting - a close pass by young male Mike (J26), his mom Slick (J16), and Slick's youngest calf J42, which just turned 1 year old and will be named this month through The Whale Museum.

Not For the Faint of Heart

Three pieces of bizarre and unwelcome news today, but all definitely interesting and worthy of speculation.

First of all, The Whale Museum reported that the body of a killer whale calf was found on Henry Island. The carcass, much too small for a normal full-term calf, was likely aborted. A necropsy on the remains will help determine the pod of origin (it is presumed to be a Southern Resident) as well as provide important information from tissue samples on things like toxin levels. Unfortunately, the body wasn't immediately reported to the stranding network, so it had decomposed considerably. Remember, if you find a marine mammal stranded, either alive or dead, report it right away to the Museum's marine mammal stranding network at 1-800-562-8832.

Secondly, while watching J-Pod head south from Lime Kiln this afternoon, I was photographing a harbor seal. It looked normal and healthy, until it turned its head. It's left eye was completely infected, puffed up and pink, bulging out of its head. Totally disgusting, but interesting in its own right. I can't believe the seal was still alive.

Finally, it was officially confirmed today that K7, Lummi, is no longer with us. No one had seen her this summer so the official confirmation is not a surprise, but it doesn't make it any less sad. I would write more words about her, but I don't think I could top what was written by Howard Garrett of Orca Network, so I will quote what he wrote here.

We don't really know how important K7 was to her extended family these last nine or ten decades. We do know that K7 was a great-great-grandmother since 2004 when her great granddaughter K20 gave birth to her great-great grand son or daughter, K38. But there's no hard evidence to tell us how orcas treat each other or how their roles develop as they grow in wisdom over the years.

After over 32 years of continuous studies based on Jane Goodall's method called individual recognition, the research community believes that older females guide the entire clan and pass their deep knowledge of habitat and family traditions on to younger generations. K7, aka Lummi, was estimated to be the very oldest of them all. Her calculated birthdate was 1910, making her 98 years old this year, which is essentially equal to J2 (Granny), who lives on at about 97 years old. The next oldest is L25 (Ocean Sun), est. born in 1928, and three other females who were given a birthdate of 1933. J2 and K7 were definitely the elder females of the clan, and now only J2 can be considered to have the longest life and experience among the Southern Resident orca community.

We can only surmise how the other members of her family behaved and felt toward K7. We know that, like humans, females often live on for decades after having their last offspring at around age 40, so it is believed that these mature females must be highly valued by their families for their knowledge of fluctuations in habitat and where and how to find abundant food. But we also know that the Southern Residents' entire vocal and behavioral repertoires are completely unique and distinct from all other orca societies, and presumably it's the grandmother class that carries and transmits all these calls, rules, attitudes and traditions to the younger generations. When every aspect of life, from when and what to eat, when to mate (and with whom), when not to mate, when to split up and travel and when to meet and greet and throw a party, are all determined according to cultural norms, clearly some individuals must play the part of respected guides and mentors.

But our understanding of all those mysterious and intricate interrelationships will have to remain in the realm of informed speculation, because we have no idea what they are saying to one another, and to date there have been no clear observations of discipline or jousting for dominance, or forced behavior of any kind (except when moms corral or command their young ones), and unlike the scars found on humpbacks and sperm whales, there's no sign that they fight at all.

It's apparently all done with subtle suggestions based on the profound influence of the longest-lived, most richly experienced females. K7 must have been highly regarded as one of the most reliable sources of traditional knowledge among Southern Resident orcas. May she be remembered respectfully and fondly by humans and orcas alike.
Howard Garrett, Orca Network

The Bs - Blackberry, Blossom, Belted Kingfisher

Last night I took this photo of a female belted kingfisher right off my front porch. Earlier this year the pair wasn't around much, but I've seen more of them in the last few days. I'd like to get some closer shots, but I took a grand total of one frame before she flitted away last night.

Another beautiful summer day, another beautiful encounter with the whales. My best photo of the day (above) is of Blackberry (J27) swimming alongside his mom, Blossom (J11).

Close Encounters of the Whale Kind

The whale karma has been with me this week, that's the only way to put it. There are plenty of other things I want to post about - I still haven't even gotten to my thoughts about Joe Gaydo's marine bird lecture - but the whales just aren't giving me a chance. Not that I'm complaining....

This morning was another brilliant encounter with Js and Ls from the boat. We left the dock with no whale report, but came back with one of our most memorable viewings of the season.

We pride ourselves on the Western Prince for not only adhering to but setting an example for the WWOANW guidelines for wildlife viewing, which includes maintaining a 100 yard distance between us and the whales whenever possible. Still, as the whales like to remind us on days like today, it really is up to the them how close of an encounter we have.

As we were setting up to parallel a family group of orcas, two males veered off a little more in our direction. It looked like they would pass alongside and then behind us, so we cut our engines and stayed put. All the sudden on their next surfacing, they were heading directly at us, already within 100 yards. From up on the bow, we could see them approaching underwater. I could see the saddle patch of the first heading right for the middle of our starboard side, then fade as the whale dove a little deeper so his fin could clear our boat as he swam underneath us. I could see the eyepatch and white side markings of the second as he swam under our bow, and one customer exclaimed, "He's blowing bubbles!"

Everyone wanted to know which whales had decided to come over and check us out, but they stayed underwater for 50-75 yards as they quickly swam on. Then, just as we were about to lose site of them underwater, one came up and broke the surface, his tall, wavy dorsal fin immediately identifying him as Ruffles (J1). I was amazed at how hard he was to recognize head on as he swam towards us, but from behind there was no mistaking him! The above photo of Ruffles was taken earlier this summer from the Western Prince.

Ruffles and the other unidentified male joined up with another large group of J-Pod, and we followed them for another 15-20 minutes as they began to pick up speed and head towards San Juan Island. My heart was pounding a little faster the whole time as I fully comprehended that two whales had passed right under our boat! The whole bunch was active, porpoising and tail-slapping, and we saw two full body breaches right before we peeled off and headed back to Friday Harbor.

Foggy Morning with Js

This morning on the Western Prince we departed Friday Harbor with a report of an unidentified group of orcas heading north near Eagle Point. It was foggy as we headed out through Cattle Pass and started heading north.

With visibility of about 300 yards, it was a surprise when a tall dorsal fin came piercing through the water off our port side - heading back south towards us! We cut our engines as whales started to appear on all sides of us. The water was so glassy calm in blended in with the foggy gray skies, and the captain dropped the hydrophone in the water. S1s and S7s - it must be J-Pod! How cool: it was one of the few times where I get to identify the pod by the unique sounds of their repertoire before getting a good look at any saddle patches to confirm who I was seeing.

My identification was soon confirmed, however, when Polaris (J28) pulled offshore and passed right by us. She's the one in the photo above with the distinct tear in the middle of her dorsal fin. Swimming just on the other side of her was Talequah (J35), her younger sister.

For the next 45 minutes we got nice looks at two of J-Pod's young males, Mike (J26) and Blackberry (J27). Their family members were around as well as they mingled and foraged, giving us several opportunities to drop the hydrophone on this quiet morning and listen to their clear vocalizations with little to no background noise.