Eagles Feeding on Bait Ball

May 2020 #2 – First Humpback Whale Sail

It’s finally our first cruise of the season. Our inflatable dinghy is held together mostly by glue, epoxy, 5200 and lots of repair hours. We offer prayers to the gods of small appliances “Please let him make it through another whale season.”  SV Blue Parrot is so far in pretty good shape. Unfortunately she hasn’t grown any over the Winter – still too small for Giant Terry.

We enjoy a few days at anchor in a beautiful bay to relax and get back into the rhythm of weather and tides. There is no cell or internet service in the Bay. Our VHF radio intermittently transmits weather statements from Environment Canada. Reception depends on Blue P’s position in the arc of her swing around her anchor.

We weigh anchor in light rain showers. An occasional breakthrough of sunrays through rainclouds plays rainbow prisms over dark mountains with snowy peaks. A report of a humpback whale near Cortes Reef comes in. “Let’s Go!” We’re on our way through Baker Passage when Terry shouts “Orca! They’re coming this way. 3, no 4 of them. I’ll get my camera.” He hands off the tiller to me after I’ve quickly grabbed my hydrophone gear. ”

They’re traveling really fast.” Terry announces. “They’re through the passage. Maybe they’re going to the rubbing beach – no they’re headed across to the mainland” I drop the hydrophone anyway in case the orca are vocalizing or communicating with others we can’t see.  I listen. “Nada. Maybe they’re hunting and they’re in stealth mode. They’re obviously mammal eaters” (Transient Biggs orca). I reel in the hydrophone.

Nearby, gulls are crying and swooping down in a frenzy! Guillemots and loons are also diving underwater at the same place. As we approach, bald eagles start flying in and grabbing fish from the surface. A Bait Ball is happening!! Herring or anchovy are being forced to the surface by salmon below them, making them available to aerial predators. S-c-r-e-e-e-e-e-ching eagle cries join with the gulls’ screaming in a cacophony of sound matching their chaotic flying and swooping. Soon there are a couple dozen eagles vying for fish and more keep coming! Where do they come from? Are there that many within sight of the bait ball? Or do they hear the sounds of birds or do they call each other, or . . .? Mysteries abound and every day in the natural world brings more questions we want to answer! Questions, questions, questions . . . always more and more!

There is a light SW breeze and the tide is with us so we float off Marina Island for a while and duck into the cabin to get out of the now intense midday sun. Terry sticks his head out  for a quick check just as 2 humpback whales breach off Francisco Pt. We fire up Lazarus (our WWII engine) and beetle over as fast as we can (4.85 knots/hr) while the whales breach and fin slap. 20 minutes later we arrive on the scene and carefully line up with the 2 recreational boats who have been enjoying the show. But the whales are finished being active. They proceed with their usual mode of activity when they are close to us – they go to sleep!

“OOOO Whale Breath” Terry groans as a piquant perfume of rotting fish with sulphurous accents wafts over us. But I am in whale heaven. I just love to BE around them even when they’re sleeping. Terry starts to talk about the challenges of shooting good video of whales from a sailboat. One of the whales gives a single gentle tail slap and both whales swim away.

Did we disturb them by talking? it’s so hard to know what that tail slap meant. [see Humpback Body Language Blog April 2020] We don’t follow them since they obviously left us.

The light SW daytime breeze is a harbinger of summer winds. We hoist the sails and sail to Drew Harbour on a broad reach. Sutil Channel is covid 19 quiet. There aren’t the usual fishing and tourist boats around. Our ears perk up – a breath. It’s another humpback whale – a smaller juvenile – and s/he is snoozing mid-channel. We sail serenely on.

Drew Harbour is a shocker. We round the end of the spit to find flotillas of flotsam and floating logs filling the anchorage. “It looks like a boom broke up in here” i say. We weave our way to our favourite anchorage and set the anchor  just as the tide starts to ebb and the wind switches to NW 10 – 20 knots.  Just in time! Sure cools off a hot day though.