Category: C & C sailboat

May 2020 #3 – Birds & Seabird Sanctuary

The Pelagic Cormorant uses its own guano (feces) to solidify its nest materials and to cement its nest to the steep cliff face.

How delicious it is to dream away the night in a gently rocking boat. The NW breeze blew away all the mosquitos and flies so we could sit in the cockpit and enjoy the evening darken into starlit skies. Blue Parrot is moored off the southern end of Cortes Island when a morning message announces a whale closeby near the reef. Away we go, sailing on a NW breeze out into the Strait. We’ve reefed the mainsail just in case the wind strengthens and we’re moving along at 4 knots towards Mitlenach Island, the seabird santuary in the middle of Georgia Strait. No whales in sight as we pass the reef so we continue on a beam reach out past the island. But the wind is dropping and willy-wally wooing around from NW through S. So much for my cunning plan of circling the island under sail. However we do manage to sail to the SW side of Mitlenach where 3 species of cormorants have constructed nests of sticks on ledges and crevices in the steep cliffs.  The nests are large elaborate structures. They look like 40L vats. Dozens of cormorants are gurgling and grunting on the cliff while gulls wheel overhead keening and squawking. Further on 200m or so sea lions are barking and growling.

The sonorous sounds of Mitlenach’s roosting residents must be recorded without motor noise to mask them. “i’ll sail the boat so you can get sound as well as video” I say as Terry lines up the camera for a close pass by the bird rocks. A cormorant runs across the water like a “Jesus lizard” and takes flight. The light breeze swings to SE and then E as we reach the midpoint of the island. I gracelessly flap the sails through 180° as we pass sea lions in blubbery heaps piled on top of each other. “Can you manage another pass?” Terry asks. It takes 3 untidy tacks to turn around and find an approach that will take us close to the shore without landing us on it. Another round of barking and grunting and sails flapping ensues. The acrid stench of gull guano stings our nostrils.  We pass signs that warn in bright red letters “Trails closed, No Visitors”. The usual island nature guides are absent because of the corona virus. But nature is far from closed. Camas lilies are in flagrant yellow bloom. Life without human visitors is leafing out in more shades of luminous green than human eyes can perceive. Effusive purple and gold blossoms nestle against myriad mosses blanketing the rocks. No whales around today but here is so much flamboyant life.

We float offshore under a blue sky enjoying the view. All around us on Vancouver Island, the mainland and the islands to the north clouds dump showers over the land. It’s no surprise that cacti grow on Mitlenach in this rain shadow where winds cross each other. We sling our sunshade, a clear plastic tarp with a floral bedsheet velcroed to it, over Blue P’s boom and bungee it to the toe rails. Aaah, shade! relief from the intense sun. Time for a snack and an afternoon snooze. It’s a short snooze though. A sailor must always have her nose to the wind. When it shifts to NW I peek around the sun shade to watch a dark line on the water approaching from a distance. “Time to take down the sunshade. The wind’s coming” I tell Terry. We quickly dismantle it, batten the hatches and start the engine just as the wind hits.

“Turn it off! Turn it off!” yells Terry as the motor starts up ” Whhaaat? What’s Wrong” I stutter and kill the engine.

“The bubble boat rope’s around the propellor” Terry cries. “Oh No!” I groan as I spot the line pulled taut over the rudder and disappearing under Blue P’s stern. “Shit! We’re going to have to cut the line! I’ll get the sea snips”

“I’m going to try to unwrap it” Terry is reaching over the stern to grab the line. But the waves and wind are picking up. Blue P is on a beam reach under bare poles. The bubble boat line draws tighter.

“I’m going to cut the line” Terry yells “Get me the painter”

“Here’s the painter and here’s the sea snips. I’m going to swing us onto a downwind course to take the pressure off the rest of the line and the bubble boat.” I say as I grab the tiller and swing Blue P’s stern into the wind. The bubble boat eases along behind as Terry threads the painter through its bridle loop and secures it. He cuts the fouled polypro line pulling all the free line into the cockpit. “I think i can unwrap the other end” he says, reaching his long arms down into the waves. “Hold on!” I warn as the waves build and more wind rattles the halyards. “Got it!” Terry exclaims holding the problem line aloft. I cheer and start the engine listening carefully for any irregular rhythms in its familiar sewing machine patter. “Tick tick tick tick…. “Whew! sounds normal to me. We’ve got power.”

On a 335° compass heading, nose into the wind we take the meter high waves a quarter off our port bow. Amazing how quickly the waves build in the Strait. But quartering takes most of the pressure off the tiller and we make 2.94 knots in the 15 gusting 18 knots of wind. It’s enough to get us back to the sheltered waters behind Cortes Island where we fuel up to continue on towards home.

Now that the wind is blowing over the port beam it’s ripe for sailing again so Terry hoists the main and disappears below with his camera. I unfurl the jib and happily sail in a brisk breeze across Lewis Channel into the mouth of Malaspina Inlet. It’s a good day when you can hang out with critters AND sail.

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.

 

July 2019 #3 They just keep jumping

NOTE TO READERS: We have chosen to use the word “herm” as a pronoun for any non-human animal whose gender is unknown to us.

A cloudy morning in a bay on Cortes. Two aluminum work boats buzz in at 9am. The skippers jump ship on a tiny islet to pick clams on the sandy beach at low tide.

We are charging batteries and studying the GH5 camcorder manual yet again so we get a late start. No backs or blows are visible in the immediate area as we motor out of the bay. But we hear reports of some lively humpbacks between Marina Island and Francisco Point so we head south over calm seas.

An hour later Terry calls from the bow “Blows! about 1/2 km ahead”. Three , maybe four whales are resting peacefully on the water so we slow down and ease closer. A seine boat is approaching the whales from the SW. He’s not slowing down. Has he seen the whales? “Try and get him on channel 16” Terry shouts “No, it’s OK. He’s on a parallel course. He won’t run over them them.” The seine boat doesn’t hit them but his heavy wake breaks over the sleeping whales. One large whale arches herm’s back and slams the water with herm’s tail. Pissed off? Maybe, but it’s over immediately. Back to sleep now.

Whales and dolphins sleep with one hemisphere of their brains at a time. The other hemisphere stays awake. They have to stay awake because, unlike humans, they are conscious breathers.  In fact researchers learned the hard way that if you tranquilize a whale or dolphin they will drown. Cetaceans have to be awake to breathe. Wakefulness of half their brain may also allow them to respond instantly to changes in the ocean environment such as the arrival of predators, or breaking waves. It is mind bending to imagine the consciousness of a being who lives simultaneously in the dreamtime and wakefulness. Wouldn’t we love to know!

The whales float and we float with them. We listen to the music of their breathing and Jude plays some didjeridoo. “I think there’s a baby with them” Terry whispers.  “Listen… a little “Poof” compared to Mom’s “PITCHOOOO”  And the dorsal fin is close to the blowholes on the little one…. Yup. Mom and calf – you got your wish Jude”

We send our sighting to the WOWS group line and soon see other boats coming to join us. The downside of this is that lots of boats, respectful though they are of the whales’ space, create lots of wake. Bobbing and rocking from boat wake makes it difficult to shoot video that doesn’t cause vertigo in the viewer. It’s especially debilitating when the whales are far from the ship so telephoto lenses must be employed.

“I think they’re waking up now” Terry observes. Unexpectedly one of the whales breaches. And they’re off! – fins slapping the surface water and lots of splashing activity. Jude drops the hydrophone and listens to hear if they are talking to each other. But all the boats are moving with the whales so wake and engine noise drown out every other sound. A light breeze springs up. It keeps shifting direction, forcing Jude to stay on the helm so we don’t run into any whales or other boats. It’s necessary to abandon the audio recording.

A few herring leap near our bow. The whales must have woken up to a school of passing herring and are taking advantage of the buffet lunch. When it seems they’ve gone under to rest for a while Jude decides to go for a brief swim while Terry grabs some lunch. On her way to get a towel Jude glances ahead “A whale – breaching” Jude cries. By now the whales are 1/2 km away. All thoughts of swimming and lunch are quickly abandoned as Terry scrambles for a camera and Jude starts the engine. It does feel a bit like a chase when the whales are active. All the boats circle around and move with them. But the whales don’t seem to mind. They continue fin slapping, tail lobbing and breaching – probably fishing on a herring school. In spite of the constant wake and movement of other boats in the water Terry manages to film some of the action. And they just keep jumping!

After an hour of hyper-activity the whales enjoy another rest so we don’t follow them. Time for lunch and a swim. But 20 minutes later they are breaching again! What an active bunch! Terry takes some still photos of the whales’ flukes for ID purposes. Later we learn who they are.

July 2019 #1 Orca Voices

“DRRING”, “DRRING” text messages are piling in on the cell phone as we motor out of Malaspina Inlet and approach Sarah Point. “Terry! Orcas off Sarah Point heading North – 2 minutes ago!”

“Woah!” Terry shouts “Do you see anybody?” We both reach for our binoculars and scan the water around the Point for dorsal fins. Eagle-eye Terry spots them “There they are! Near those 2 kayaks – 3, 4, no – 6. There’s 2 large males, I think they’re headed this way!” Jude pulls the throttle into neutral and drops the revs, ducks into the cabin for her recorder, hydrophone and headphones. Terry struggles with his new GH5 camcorder, selecting video controls on the fly.

“Here they come!” Jude is at the helm positioning the boat for best video angle “They’re right beside the boat! Oh Shit!……” A big male, right at the bow – surfacing and moving fast. Two adult females and a juvenile shoot past on our starboard side. Jude kills the engine and drops the hydrophone over Blue Parrot’s stern …… Nothing…. Fiddles with the knobs, “Why aren’t I hearing anything?” “Did you push in the headphone wires?” Terry calls. “Right!”  Jude connects the headphone wires and the roar of boat motors floods her ears. No orca sounds though. “They must be in stealth mode. They’re probably hunting”

 

Are they the same pod that barreled into Trevenen Bay a week ago? Jude was meditating on a boulder  when the unmistakable PCHOOO of those powerful blows reverberated around the inlet. A minute later they were approaching. Scimitar fins of 2 adult females and 2 juveniles slicing the silk smooth surface. What were they after? Forming a tight circle 75m from her rock they began repeatedly diving one after the other. Obviously onto somebody – a seal? What else could they be hunting in that shallow 10m deep water? No blood on the surface – no chunks of torn flesh in their teeth.  It’s a mystery with darkening dusk obscuring any visual clues of their hunt. And then they’re gone.

 

Back to the present “Wow! That was exciting! Whales on our first hour out on the ship. Must be a good omen.” We float around for a while hoping they’ll return. We watch for fins to see whether they head  into Malaspina Inlet. But now mounting waves and grey clouds billowing out from East Vancouver Island indicate that rain is definitely blowing our way. Better head into Cortes Bay to ride out the storm.

 

Dawn delivers a bright clear summer day  with no wind. We motor towards Mitlenach Island, ears tuned to the radio “4 humpbacks on the spoil grounds – south of Wilby Shoals – mid channel” It’s one of the commercial whale watching boats. Jude points the bow to NW when another report erupts from the radio “Orcas traveling – heading towards Baker Passage”  That’s SE – the opposite heading. Are these our orcas from yesterday?

 

A quick decision – a 180 degree turn and there they are. Two big bulls with towering dorsal fins. They could be the same orca we saw yesterday. They are transients – the mammal eaters who dine on seals, sea lions and dolphins. Observers of orca hunts recount with awe the fearsome symmetry of their coordinated attack; cornering a 1 ton Stellar sea lion, terrorizing him into paralysis before the kill, tossing a harbour seal into the air, playing with her like a basketball. They haven’t been named “killer whales” for no reason.

 

Jude angles the boat for Terry’s best video shot. But converging waves from several boats’ wake are ricocheting wildly off the shores of 3 islands. Blue P becomes a crazed cradle-gone-rogue.  Even the new camera’s internal stabilization program can’t handle it.

 

Time to listen to what’s happening UNDER the water. Jude lowers the hydrophone. Plaintive meowing calls greet her ears – the signature calls of G clan, Northern Resident Killer Whales! This is SO EXCITING! It’s a whole conference of calls. She listens keenly trying to differentiate individual calls but motor noise from speeding boats devours the sound space with intense high-pitched whines.

The overpowering noise becomse painful.  Jude tears off the headphones and shakes out her ears. How does all that noise from screaming outboard engines affect the orcas who have such sensitive hearing? They hear a range of audio frequencies that humans can’t even imagine. Do whales and dolphins become deaf from our noise polution? One of the large males hangs back from the rest of the group. It sounds like he is calling to them and they are answering – contact calls in a world of murky water and intrusive motor noise.

So many boats are chasing the orcas that we decide to minimize the disturbance. We swing around  to the NW just as a dark whale back surfaces only a couple of knots away. That’s half an hour at our super cruising speed of 4.85 knots. Blue P is not a boat that can chase whales but we actively drift in their general direction.

Of course Blue P’s WWII Atomic 4 engine “Lazarus” chooses that moment to quit with no warning. A plastic bag in his water intake? He’s not overheating but he won’t start again – “Oh Oh, could be a speck of dirt in the carburetor valve”. Jude grabs a trusty tool – the butt end of a large screw driver. Bang, bang on the carburetor. “Lazarus” resurects himself and turns over as if nothing has occurred. With a rueful sigh and an exchange of meaningful glances we continue.  If we stop to address everything on Blue P that needs attention we’ll never have time to hang out with the whales.

Onward to Read Island…..

October 2018 – Humpbacks “Lounge” Feeding

After 2 weeks of administration, video editing, catching up on blogs and sending out a Newsletter we finally get back on the water. It is calm and sunny after a particularly wet September. We anchor in one of our favourite places and check for any reports of humpbacks in the area. “Someone saw a humpback breaching off Rebecca Spit” Terry reports “I’ll take that as a sign to go north” I reply.

We make an early start on a perfect day for video – sunny, clear and calm.  No wind yet so we are motoring towards Mitlenach Island when we spot them. “Look, 2 humpbacks feeding in the shadows” Terry, the whale spotter supreme, is pointing to the shore of Twin Islands. As we observe the whales moving SW we catch sight of another blow, then 2 more blows moving North – 5 humpback whales! We kill the engine to float around and better observe what everyone is doing. A whale watching boat without passengers motors in. The skipper sees the whales and slows down. He follows them at a respectful distance. When 2 whales circle back we decide to stay where we are.

I call the captain of the Eagle Eye Adventures inflatable on VHF radio and introduce Terry and I and the Welcoming Whales project. Reuben, the young captain, is heading to Lund today. We share stories and information we’ve observed about the cetaceans in our area. I have often wondered whether whale watching (and other) boats would interfere with transient Biggs orcas while they are hunting. But Reuben tells us “Transients sometimes make a kill – usually a seal – right beside my boat. Sometimes a seal will even try to hide underneath my boat” It seems from Ruben’s report and from others I’ve heard since that when Biggs orcas are in full pursuit of their prey, boats don’t bother them.

I ask Reuben if he will take us closer to where the 2 whales are shallow feeding at the surface. “Sure” he says. We hop into his inflatable with our cameras. The inflatable skims smoothly and quietly to about 200m from the whales. Ruben has a range finder to indicate how far away his boat is from any marine mammal. It is standard whale watching gear. He has never seen this kind of lunge feeding. “This is incredible! They’re just lying on their sides with their mouths open!” I exclaim “They’re hoovering herring!”  “They’re not LUNGE feeding they’re LOUNGE feeding Terry quips. Then he is intent on capturing video of the phenomenon. We float quietly for about 15 minutes until Ruben says he has to go.

“That was amazing!” Terry and I are both thrilled. It is 6pm and we should be getting back to the anchorage but we don’t want to leave. Suddenly the surface of the sea begins roiling and rippling. Silver flashes underwater and leaps into the air  – herring! They’re jumping everywhere! But listen! The sound of heavy rain showers in our ears. The skin of the water shimmers. Tiny shrimp pop up like popcorn all around the ship. Gulls are skimming the water and grabbing shrimp from the surface. And here come the whales! A couple of sea lions are feeding with the humpbacks. They look sinuously intertwined.  It’s a free-for-all on herring and krill.

In the midst of all this 2 women in kayaks paddle out to the Parrot ship. “Are they minke whales?” asks one “What are they doing?” “What are they eating?” “Are people allowed to fish herring?” Terry and I answer the rapid fired questions as fast as we can all the while filming the feeding action.

Martha and Jean paddle closer to the whales and we hold our breaths “Don’t get too close” we call to them. “We won’t” they answer. But the whales are heading their way. They begin back paddling furiously – away from the whales and back to Blue Parrot. “Whew!”  When their excitement abates we ask if there is a good place to anchor near here as it is past sunset. Martha invites us to tie up to her mooring buoy about 100m towards shore from the Parrot ship.  Her generous offer means that we don’t have to leave the scene at all!

Two excited women paddle back to shore as we resume filming. The whales are still feeding in the purplepeach painted sea-sky as we anchor for the night.

2018-August – Humpback Whales Visit Us

My Mom was fascinated by the stories Terry and I told her about whales. She loved to hear about their curiousity and intellegence; how the grey whales enjoyed teasing the tourists in Baja and how the humpbacks here seemed be attracted to the sounds of the didjeridoo. Mom, Chayashi, died in May of this year from dementia. But even in advanced stages of dementia there were lucid moments during which hearing about whales would put a smile on her face. With all of the Mom care this year and the ongoing tasks that need to be done after a loved one dies we didn’t get out on the water until August.

We made the most of our abbreviated time out in SV Blue Parrot. Our complicated methodology was to sail or motor to the general area where we’d seen humpbacks feeding or traveling and hang around waiting for whales. Whenever we shut off the engine I would drop my hydrophone (underwater microphone) over the side of Blue Parrot to listen to the sounds underwater through headphones. Sound travels 5 times faster in water than in air so I could hear the bugle-like inbreath of distant humpbacks through my hydrophone before the sound traveled to me above the water. Very cool.

This video shows what happened when 2 curious Humpbacks whales decided to visit us twice in the same afternoon. We were drifting with our engine off at least 200 metres away from them while they were feeding. It was their clear choice to visit us.


The Amphibiographer’s Secrets to Enjoying Awesome Whale Encounters: It’s vital to respect these wondrous beings, not to chase, annoy, or disturb them while they are feeding or sleeping at the surface. Slow down in known whale feeding areas and be aware so you don’t run over one. If you see a blow slow down, there may be more around. If they approach you, stop moving, shut off your engine and enjoy the encounter until they leave you.

Whales have an enormous hearing capacity which is very useful over their huge migration range to stay in contact with each other. In their northern or southern feeding grounds they travel through water that is full of plankton and very murky. They depend on sound to communicate and to find their way underwater.

Humans hear sound frequencies from 20Herz to 20,000Herz. But long distance whale communications can be lower than 10Herz and travel thousands of kilometers. When orca, dolphins or porpoises are echolocating they produce a barrage of very loud staccato blips or clicks at frequencies higher than 100,000herz . Some research suggests that baleen whales like humpbacks may echolocate using low frequency sonar but they do not have the very high frequency capability of porpoises or dolphins or even the toothed whales. There doesn’t seem to be definitive research that nails down the range of frequencies humpback whales can hear. Happily we humans can thrill to their intricate songs because Humpbacks sing predominantly in the hearing range of humans.

Here is a fascinating and playful introduction to hearing ranges in familiar animals.

https://www.myihp.co.uk/animal-hearing-ranges/

I would love to know whether the humpbacks that Terry and I were serenading in this video sang back to us underwater. I will need a spectrograph that maps audio frequencies to interface with my hydrophone in order to discover whether they are vocalizing outside our human audible range. Stay tuned to find out!