Category: Desolation Sound

May 2020 #1 – Lockdowns!

There are many kinds of lockdowns. Some are physical. Others are emotional, psychological, spiritual. Covid 19 started as a physical lockdown. But the lockdown itself is affecting the mental, emotional and even spiritual health of the human global population. Prisons of any kind, even the kindest kind will do that.

The economic restrictions have killed the usual May tourist rush here on the Salish Sea. With the Canada/US border closed to non-essential traffic yachts from Seattle are barred. Vancouver area boaters are mostly staying away although a few have been sneaking into anchorages in Desolation Sound and the Discovery Islands. Fuel and pump outs can be accessed from some marinas but most limit traffic “from away” to the dock area – no mixing with the locals.

With tourists banned whale watching companies are advertising a shut down until Summer. However, some of the captains are still out on the water doing water taxi or other work. So they are sending reports to the network of any orcas, dolphins and whales that they come across. And some intrepid nature-loving souls are just hanging out with any cetaceans they find.

I’ve been anxious to get back on the water with the whales since April. The long winter and extended virus season have been opportunities for more research about other species of whales. All live intriguing and mysterious lives that we humans know so little about. I’ve also been corresponding with Jim Darling, co-founder of Whale Trust in Hawaii and an expert bioacoustician. I sent Jim the whalesong files that I recorded in November of 2019. Jim has done some fascinating research into the meaning of humpback whalesong, its function in humpback culture and its relationship to regional populations and migrations. The revelations of Jim’s research will help us to understand the role of whalesong in humpback relationships amongst males (who are the singers) and between males and females (who are choosing mates).

Jude and Terry find that the old law within the science hierarchy about not attributing emotional, problem solving and aesthetic capacity to any animal except homo sapiens still seems to be operating. Research projects which are granted funding follow the strict rules and metrics of stated factors and vectors with observations fitted into those boxes. This approach has proven very useful for specific information like population numbers, genetic tracing, food sources etc. But it is only one approach and has limitations. Other ways of gathering information ie: traditional indigenous knowledge and stories are barely acknowledged and not credited. Even in private conversation many scientists rarely let on that they might wander and ponder outside of their proposed Science-dictated hypotheses. We find this sad – mostly sad for the researchers who can’t explore their emotional and even spiritual connection to the beings they spend so much time studying.

Anyway, people have been observing the returning humpback whales mostly in Discovery Passage and venturing around Cape Mudge into Sutil Channel. It’s time to venture out for our first whale cruise of the season!

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 – Fog

Here we are floating around in Sutil Channel. We finally got here after after months of dreaming about this place as reports streamed in of dozens of humpback whales gathering to frolic and feed. Well – we’re here after a day of motoring – but where are the whales? We did notice one humpback blow off Francisco Point when we came around Marina Island. Then Terry sighted 2 blows at the SW tip of Read Island but nobody has come close or even lingered to feed in any of their reported favourite sites. So much for Humpback Heaven!

We circle the Subtle Islands. A flotilla of stellar sea lions is hauled out on the NW side. A couple of baby seals check us out. No whales. We have permission to tie up to another private buoy in one of the bays, courtesy of one of Martha’s friends. The folks on Cortes Island love the whales and have been very generous in helping us out with places for our ship to moor.

Tonight Terry and I lie awake meditating and mentally sending invitations to the whales to come and meet us if they aren’t too busy. The fog rolls in during the morning. We are floating around Hill Island. I am working below as Terry watches a fog bank roll up the channel. “Try phoning Martha” Terry calls down to me. “Ask her whether they’ve got fog over that side of the Island.”  I phone Martha. “She says it was clear this morning but the fog came in thick. It’s supposed to clear near noon but local knowledge says maybe late afternoon or evening”  Oh Joy! The fog is steadily moving toward us so we head back to our mooring buoy to wait it out.

And that’s the saga of Sutil Channel; floating around in the sun – monitoring the fog banks – waiting  for whales – and spotting them – in the distance. Meanwhile, we have some  fun observing raucous arguments between eagle mates. We watch a loon try to swallow a big-headed sculpin. We ponder on why the shore pines in the Bay are dying like the red cedars are dying in Trevenen Bay. But no whales. After a few days we decide to head back to the other side of Cortes. 2 humpbacks appear about 1 knot ahead of Blue Parrot to lead the way.

 

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.

September 2018 – Puffer Pigs

Well, it wasn’t a good month for hanging out with humpbacks but we did encounter more delightful harbour porpoises, affectionately named “puffer pigs” than we’ve ever seen before. We were anchored in one of our favourite calm weather spots close to ‘Red Pepper’. The sloop is adorned with a 200Watt solar panel to power her electric motor. Ken and Pat, her crew,  are retired and not in a hurry to get anywhere in particular.  When they aren’t sailing their 35ft red-hulled Erickson sailboat they can motor all day at 3 knots and fully recharge their batteries at the same time. We make a wish that electric motors will soon become affordable for your average low income sailor.

In the morning Terry saw a couple of blows further south so we headed that way. The sky was blue, the mountain vistas spectacular – but no whales appeared – so we floated on a silk smooth sunlit sea for hours. As sunset coloured the sky we followed leaping herring into Blubber Bay on Texada Island, hopeful that some humpbacks would discover the herring too. After anchoring we settled in for a peaceful night.

The moon is bright and the sea still calm when we get up to check the anchor line at 2am. “It’s a perfect night to drop the hydrophone” Jude enthuses. Before I can move: Pchooo! “Was that a blow?” Pchooo! “Terry, there’s a whale out there.”  “Only one?” “Yes, s/he must have found those herring.” The whale is not really close so I drop the hydrophone to listen underwater. What a cacophony! We’re close to shore and the hydrophone hangs close to bottom where  shrimp crackle, barnacles creak, fish grunt, seals burp and pilings rub and groan. It surely is noisy in the intertidal zone. I can’t identify half of these intriguing sounds. They are so loud that I can’t hear any whale noises if there are any. We listen to the whale breathing above the water just outside the bay. But soon a diesel engine barrels into the bay drowning out all other sound above and under the water. Oh well. We plan to get up early to check whether our whale is still hanging around.

And there s/he is the next morning – intently shallow feeding just outside the bay. We float around watching herm for a while. As we float a motorboat zooms towards us headed right for the area where whale is feeding. I call on the VHF radio to let them know there is a whale in the area and they slow down.

One of our friendly Powell River whale spotters with a scope on her deck calls us to let us know that there are orcas in Blubber Bay. We have been so engaged with our humpback friend that we didn’t notice them but now we see 6 orcas racing out of the bay. They are beauties – one male with a very long dorsal fin. I struggle to get the hydrophone back in the water but don’t hear any communications. Maybe they are in stealth mode – mammal eaters hunting seals or sea lions. We watch them disappear into the distance and notice the incoming clouds. “Let’s stay ahead of the rain” I suggest “Do you see the Grant’s Reef buoy?” “Depth is 40 ft, 35, 23, 18” Terry reads the sounder as we approach the shallow reefs. They must be full of fish because a carpet of loons, murres, grebes and gulls float over them. 3 humpback whales troll the deeper water nearby. And here are a dozen harbour porpoises popping up for a puff of breath and submerging to feed together. What a sight! We’ve never seen more than 2 or 3 together so this is a treat.

Rain clouds are catching up to us as another sailboat motors across our bow towards the shallow passage between Savary and Hernando Islands. I call him on the radio and ask if we can follow him through. “Sure” he says. So we do – cruising through the shoals and rocks as our 10ft shallow alarm sounds more than once.

Good thing we’re making passage on a 9ft tide.

2018 Sea of Whales

2018 SEA of WHALES – INTRO

This year was finally the year we’d been working towards. After years of setbacks, injuries etc. we finally got to meet and hang out with Grey whales in Baja, Mexico and Humpback whales in the Salish Sea. They were very different experiences but the following are a couple of stories with observations about human interactions with our large aquatic relations.

Eye to I

Terry (the Amphibiographer) and I were off of Powell River in our 27ft sailboat. There was no wind so we were motoring back towards the harbour at about 4 knots. Suddenly we saw what looked to be the butt end of a large deadhead floating in the water about 100m ahead. Hitting one of these can spell disaster for a boat and I was on the tiller.

“Do you think it moved?” I asked Terry who was at the

bow peering through binoculars to get a better look.

“It’s an elephant seal!” he exclaimed, “See the nose?”

“An elephant seal?” As the head turned I saw that unmistakable trunk-like shnozz come into view. I slowed down instantly and angled sharply to port (left). But our friend didn’t seem to be too fussed. After surveying the view he slowly submerged and disappeared.

We were past him by this time so we looked back just in time to see a humpback whale breach about 300m behind us. I executed a 180 degree turn hoping we would get to witness some playful exuberant humpback acrobatics. Whale breached a few more times but stopped when we were within 150 metres. I slipped the motor into neutral so Whale would know exactly where our boat was and Terry swung below to retrieve the video camera. Then we waited. And waited.

About 10 minutes later “PCHOOOOO!” A blow about 50m from our boat! An arc of dark whaleback surfaced and began to circle around us. I killed the motor since obviously Whale knew we were there. Was Whale curious? I decided to try to communicate with Whale. The closest I can get to mimicking whale language is to play my didjeridoo. My partner can synthesize a mean didjeridoo with his resonant baritone voice. So the two of us began a duet, a whale serenade.

Whale didn’t talk back to us – or maybe Whale did but we couldn’t hear it above the water. But Whale did move closer to the boat – still circling slowly. We drifted together like this for a while – no pyrotechnics, just meditative mellow breathing, didjeridooing and hanging out together. It was magical!

Then Whale took a breath and submerged into a sleek shallow dive from 25m behind our boat, under the length of it to emerge about 7m off the bow! Since Whale was one and a half times the length of our boat this took a few seconds. We were so surprised we jumped, clattered and banged our recording gear as we rushed to video our friend, who then leisurely swam off leaving us breathless.

I have since learned that whales avoid banging and thumping coming from the hull of a boat so that might have chased our friend away. I have also learned, from time spent among the grey whales in Baja, Mexico, that if whales want to interact with you, they will come to you. There is never any need to chase them. A boat that is floating in the water with enthusiastic people onboard can be a source of entertainment for our large friends. It can be a toy to play with, an ecstatic audience for athletic performances, willing volunteers for their teasing tricks like surprise blow hole showers, and even useful for a good back scratch.

The whales who came to visit us in our little boats had complete control of the interactions. From as young as 6 weeks their physical skill and coordination in the water was amazing. They teased us, made us squeal with delight and only stayed with us as long as they wanted. See ‘Baja Grey Whales’ Blog

When a whale rolls on her/his side to make eye contact with you – conscious being to conscious being – you know you have met a relation.

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!

August 2018 – Whales in the Smoke

It snuck in during the night. We wake to a sky cloaked in veils of smoke. A red/orange sun and rust brown air are gifts from hundreds of fires burning up the interior forests and agricultural lands of BC . All land further than 1/2 km distance fades into smoke. We have our “Navigation for Dummys” tools, ie: navigational software, depth sounder and compass. But the claustrophobic combination of hot, smokey air and minimal visibility is spooky. I feel a renewed awe and respect for the cultures that navigated the oceans without any of those tools.

Since the smoke seems thicker to the south and wind is light we decide to go north to Mitlenach Island, the seabird sanctuary and anchor overnight. As we approach Mitlenach a few hours later we pass a couple of whale watching boats watching 1 humpback feed – a good sign that other whales may be around. Another sailboat is just leaving the very shallow, rock strewn anchorage on the SE side of the island. This is definitely a CALM WEATHER anchorage at halfmoon (not too low) tides. Just as we set the anchor for a NW breeze the wind turns around to the E and we almost end up on the rocks! Terry grabs the stern line and hops in the dinghy. Amazing the force of a 3 knot wind – it takes all his strength to row that dinghy and haul the stern of Blue Parrot around towards the shore.

A herd of harbour seal heads bobbing in the water have been watching all this activity. The whole herd follows us as we lower our snorkel gear into the dinghy and row it out to the rocks. As we pick our way carefully between the sand anemones and enter the cold, murky water a dozen seals approach us but they don’t come too close. In the plankton soup they disappear at 2 meters away. They don’t seem to want to play with us so we turn our attention to other ocean flora and fauna. A silver swarm surrounds us – streaming silver sides and swishing tails. It’s a shoal of juvenile herring. No wonder the humpback whales are here! We revel in herring world a while.

Swimming with so many herring is delicious but the water is too frigid to tolerate for long in a 3ml shortie wetsuit.  As we haul out to warm up we hear 2 humpbacks breathing just outside the small anchorage.  Is it hard for them to breathe deeply in the smokey air? Hoping to catch sight of them we follow a trail up a cliff which overlooks the NE shallows. We can hear a humpback breaching out there but the smoke is so thick that we can’t see anybody. Oh well. Cormorants, gulls and fascinating flora are plentiful. The interpretive signs help us identify dried up plants that are past their flowering and fruiting stages.

After a rough night in the anchorage keeping Blue Parrot off the rocks when the NW wind backed to W and freshened we are tired sailors. But the breeze is still blowing so we raise the sails and head towards Twin Islands in the smoke.  2 humpbacks are busy feeding as we sail past. We don’t want to disturb them so we continue on towards home.