San Juan Islands, Washington & Victoria, British Columbia
After a pleasant transit of the Ballard Locks into Seattle’s Lake Union on the previous evening, we awoke in the calm but rushing waters of the San Juan Islands, part of a delightful archipelago of islands and exposed rocks that was divided equally – but only after considerable dispute and a Pig War that never was – between the USA and Canada. Establishing borders in tortuous and puzzle-piece land can never be easy.
We were on a mission this morning. The Southern Resident Population of killer whales base themselves among these islands during the summer and fall salmon runs. Millions of mature fish leave the rich Pacific Ocean and wend their way through the Strait of Juan de Fuca to the mighty Fraser River and other productive streams on Vancouver Island and in Puget Sound. Resident killer whales eat fish, primarily salmon. They are vocal, absolutely loyal to a matrilineal family bond, and will have nothing to do with the so-called Transient killer whales. The latter, also moving in bonded but smaller family groups, wander secretively and silently up and down the coast preying upon harbor seals, northern sea lions, California sea lions, Dall’s porpoises, harbor porpoises, Pacific white-sided dolphins, Minke whales and even larger whale species. Some authorities have postulated that the residents and transients are in fact separate species. Time will tell on that matter, but at this time they remain as one.
A cry went out as Penny’s unaided eagle eyes spotted the sleek dorsal fin of a killer whale slinking along the edge of a kelp bed. Two others surfaced. We approached cautiously, thrilled by views of possible feeding and a fabulous vertical surfacing behaviour known as spy hopping. The whales were diving for 4 or 5 minutes and then would reappear somewhere off our bow, at one point so close that our cameras were not ready. But we did get to see this well-studied but still-mysterious toothed cetacean. In evolutionary terms, it is actually a dolphin, the largest member of the Delphinidae family.
We wound our way northward, watching a speedy Canadian destroyer as it cruised past just inside Canadian waters. And we paused alongside Spieden Island, now a privately owned game reserve harbouring a variety of exotic deer and mountain sheep species. Turkey vultures fed on a carcass high up the open slope, and an elegant bald eagle perched on a gnarled Douglas fir. Sea birds flew by, including California and glaucous-winged gulls, rhinoceros auklets and white-winged scoters.
Our afternoon was spent on Stuart Island, a quiet and remote refuge on the Washington State side of the border. Kayakers ventured out to find a family of river otters, nearshore invertebrates and picturesque rock formations along the shoreline. Most of us got to hike through the open oak-madrone forest, a very limited subsection of the temperate rainforest that cloaks the coast from northern California to southern Alaska. Ancient and giant Garry oaks, Douglas firs, western redcedars, grand firs and arbutus (madrone) trees dominate here. An understorey of salal and Oregon grape is sparse, making our jaunt easy and pleasant. Most of us found our way to the island’s original one-room schoolhouse. Built in 1902, it is now the islands open-door library and museum, and is well preserved. The early history of these islands is still being written.
As darkness fell, we entered Canadian waters and slipped into Victoria harbour. Clearing customs was easy, and a quiet night at dockside followed. The lights of the city, highlighted by the domed Provincial Legislature, reflected in glassy water. Tomorrow we will tour this capital city of British Columbia, a city whose year-round climate is the envy of all Canadians.
After a pleasant transit of the Ballard Locks into Seattle’s Lake Union on the previous evening, we awoke in the calm but rushing waters of the San Juan Islands, part of a delightful archipelago of islands and exposed rocks that was divided equally – but only after considerable dispute and a Pig War that never was – between the USA and Canada. Establishing borders in tortuous and puzzle-piece land can never be easy.
We were on a mission this morning. The Southern Resident Population of killer whales base themselves among these islands during the summer and fall salmon runs. Millions of mature fish leave the rich Pacific Ocean and wend their way through the Strait of Juan de Fuca to the mighty Fraser River and other productive streams on Vancouver Island and in Puget Sound. Resident killer whales eat fish, primarily salmon. They are vocal, absolutely loyal to a matrilineal family bond, and will have nothing to do with the so-called Transient killer whales. The latter, also moving in bonded but smaller family groups, wander secretively and silently up and down the coast preying upon harbor seals, northern sea lions, California sea lions, Dall’s porpoises, harbor porpoises, Pacific white-sided dolphins, Minke whales and even larger whale species. Some authorities have postulated that the residents and transients are in fact separate species. Time will tell on that matter, but at this time they remain as one.
A cry went out as Penny’s unaided eagle eyes spotted the sleek dorsal fin of a killer whale slinking along the edge of a kelp bed. Two others surfaced. We approached cautiously, thrilled by views of possible feeding and a fabulous vertical surfacing behaviour known as spy hopping. The whales were diving for 4 or 5 minutes and then would reappear somewhere off our bow, at one point so close that our cameras were not ready. But we did get to see this well-studied but still-mysterious toothed cetacean. In evolutionary terms, it is actually a dolphin, the largest member of the Delphinidae family.
We wound our way northward, watching a speedy Canadian destroyer as it cruised past just inside Canadian waters. And we paused alongside Spieden Island, now a privately owned game reserve harbouring a variety of exotic deer and mountain sheep species. Turkey vultures fed on a carcass high up the open slope, and an elegant bald eagle perched on a gnarled Douglas fir. Sea birds flew by, including California and glaucous-winged gulls, rhinoceros auklets and white-winged scoters.
Our afternoon was spent on Stuart Island, a quiet and remote refuge on the Washington State side of the border. Kayakers ventured out to find a family of river otters, nearshore invertebrates and picturesque rock formations along the shoreline. Most of us got to hike through the open oak-madrone forest, a very limited subsection of the temperate rainforest that cloaks the coast from northern California to southern Alaska. Ancient and giant Garry oaks, Douglas firs, western redcedars, grand firs and arbutus (madrone) trees dominate here. An understorey of salal and Oregon grape is sparse, making our jaunt easy and pleasant. Most of us found our way to the island’s original one-room schoolhouse. Built in 1902, it is now the islands open-door library and museum, and is well preserved. The early history of these islands is still being written.
As darkness fell, we entered Canadian waters and slipped into Victoria harbour. Clearing customs was easy, and a quiet night at dockside followed. The lights of the city, highlighted by the domed Provincial Legislature, reflected in glassy water. Tomorrow we will tour this capital city of British Columbia, a city whose year-round climate is the envy of all Canadians.
