“Killer whales” or “orcas” are awe-inspiring redoubtable creatures, whatever your semantic or philosophical preference. We encountered “K Pod” off Lime Kiln Light on San Juan Island at dawn of our trip’s first day. The sixteen related individuals we observed are members of the well-documented “Southern Resident” population of piscivorous killer whales. We were able to identify the specific matrilineal group from the researchers’ catalog by characteristic fin and saddle patch patterns and the presence of two teenage males beginning to sprout elongated dorsal fins.
Swimming about us this morning was the octogenarian “Lummi” (K-7) and her descendants. Resident killer whales live together their whole lives. We watched as Lummi’s new great-grandchild (!) and other calves exuberantly broke the surface, breached, and learned to catch salmon. They swam tight circles with family members and rolled sideways to pursue prey. Longevity of female orcas may play an important role in cultural transmission of information essential to survival of the young. Killer whale families in these waters are currently threatened by increasing levels of toxins and by boat traffic. They have been harmed in previous decades by capture for aquarium display (where many have the stagename “Shamu”) and from being shot by military and fishing parties.
We were privileged to find these beautiful black and white forms and to enjoy watching them without the company of other vessels in the early morning. Traveling to the opposite side of San Juan Island we viewed auklets, loons, cormorants, porpoises, and the exotic ungulates of a private island reserve. We toured quaint Friday Harbor and its excellent Whale Museum learning more about orcas and their whalekind.
The Sea Bird slipped north from the San Juan Islands across the maritime frontier into Canada’s Gulf Islands on her way toward Alaska. Experiencing a family of killer whales and pondering their enduring social bonds was an auspicious start to our journey.
