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.