There are few sights as exciting as looking below the water's surface to find a killer whale's vague 10-ton form. This morning we watched one of these animals with it's bold markings and grayish saddle patch slowly rise. The dorsal fin cut its way through the sea's surface as if it were sliced from underneath by a black, superbly sharpened knife. A crisp, thin stream of water curled along the fin's side. Soon a mound of water was pushed above the surface by a bulbous head, the mound thinned to a film, and then exploded as high-pressure air shot from the blowhole. The sheer power of these "blackfish" overwhelms our senses, they thrill us with their beautiful simplicity and fill us with wonder at their grand design.

Killer whales are the most sought after experience of our Pacific Northwest trips. Our morning started about a quarter mile off San Juan Island over the depths of Haro Strait. At first light we had whales in view and were soon adrift with them all around us. Research that started in the early 1970's has produced an incredible amount of information about these whales based on the identification of individuals using the unique shape of dorsal fins and saddle patches and their nicks, cuts, and scratches. Armed with this information we set out to find the identity of the whales swimming around us. Soon Alexis of the L12 subpod and her son Mega (L41) had been identified. These and five other whales swam near us throughout breakfast and until 10 o'clock. At one point, Mega turned back toward the ship and swam directly below the bow. This photograph was taken of him soon after he passed.