Washington’s Whales:
Home is Where the Islands Are
by Julie Ubben, Assistant Marketing Manager
In addition to outstanding cycling, Bicycle Adventures’ tours often give you the chance to see or experience things you might not otherwise. From time to time, we offer an inside peek into some of those fascinating ‘extras’; here, our very unique Washington whales get the spotlight.
Orcas – also known as killer whales – are regularly spotted off the coast of Washington State. Those of us who live near Puget Sound have multiple opportunities to view these haunting, majestic beasts. They’ll often stop off for a week or a month to nibble on salmon and seal as they migrate south or north. Wild and joyous, flashing and gleaming in black-and-white tuxedos, no matter how often we see orcas they leave us breathless. And like the true worshipers we are, we show up with cameras and kayaks, hoping for a closer (but not too close) glimpse, or perhaps a prize photo to flaunt.
Resident orcas stay put in the islands
Still more mysterious, though, are three orca pods who have taken up residency off the outer reaches of Washington's northwest coast. A very unique community of whale pods lives in the Straits of Juan de Fuca at the southern end of the San Juan/Gulf Islands chain. Known as the Southern Resident Orcas, this gang does things their own way. Instead of traveling southward for our photographic bliss, they insist on lurking near the shore off the western coast of San Juan Island or in the adjacent straits, where they can often be spotted chowing down on local salmon. Each of these three pods represents an individual family group; two of the pods make the San Juan Islands their primary home, occasionally visiting but never migrating (in the summer/winter sense of the word) to other waters.
Known to scientists and locals alike as ‘J-pod, K-pod and L-pod,’ the group has a current population of over 80 whales. Individual orcas are identified by number – “J-42, with mother, J-16” – or by affectionate monikers: Sekiu, Raven, Shachi. Like a strict religious sect, they appear to have precise rules about who can mate with whom, a fact that leaves researchers and marine biologists scratching heads in befuddlement. Although transient (migrating) whales cross paths nearly every day with the locals, and could easily interbreed, it never happens. Mom, apparently, has pretty strict rules about not dating out-of-towners. Whales in the Southern Resident community only mate with others in that community – and not those within their own immediate family pods, either. So a J-pod whale, for instance, could mate with one from L-pod, but not with another J-podder. ‘Lifetime family bonding’ is also the rule: rather than dispersing into other groups or creating new pods, entire families stay together for life. Each of the three pods boasts grandmother whales, fathers, mothers, grand-whales and great-grand-whales in its ranks.
Different languages for different pods
Another distinctive feature of the San Juan Islands whale pods is their language. According to the Orca Network, an organization dedicated to raising awareness of Pacific Northwest whales, each pod has a unique set of 7 to 17 recognizable ‘pod-specific’ calls (whalespeak for “Raven Sequim J-pod, you get your flukes back here this minute or you’ll not get one fin of this delicious king salmon!”) The Orca Network says these pods also have pod-to-pod languages – in fact, they possess “…a huge vocabulary of variable calls, especially during intense socializing, that defy description.” So along with the family vernacular, they communicate pod-to-pod on a different level. But – and here's the surprise – only between those whales in the Southern Resident Orca population. The Orca Network continues: “No similarities have been found in the calls made by different communities.” They are referring to the transients, whether groups or individuals, who pass through the region. So not only do they not date passersby, the language barrier means they can’t even communicate!
Jeanne Hyde coordinates the Orca Adoption program at Friday Harbor’s Whale Museum, on San Juan Island. Her enthusiasm is so contagious she’s been dubbed the Whale Lady – or, sometimes, the Orcaholic. (“I have to say that one veerrry slowly,” laughs Jeanne.) During whale season she spends all her time on the west side of San Juan Island studying and tracking the whales; she’s gotten to know them so well that she can tell them apart by sight, and some of them by sound alone. “How would you describe me?” she hollers over to a co-worker.
The instant reply: “Fanatical!”
“To me it matters that people know the whales,” says Jeanne. She’s fascinated by their culture, their social structure, the interrelation of the systems. She loves to tell stories of the way the whales care for each other: of how, when one of this year’s new calves spun off from the group to investigate a kayaker, Mama whale (J-16) immediately surfaced betwixt the youngster and the boat, clearly intervening. Jeanne affectionately describes 'Comet,' – another new calf – who tends to explore at high speed and then has to play high speed catch-up as well. And then there are ‘the babysitters,’ Spock and Deadhead, left to mind all the youngsters while the other mother whales were having Girls Day Out. “The Nursery Group was having so much fun!” Jeanne says. “Spock would roll, then the babies would copy. Deadhead would do something else, and the babies would copy that.”
Whale life expectancy cut in half this century
Jeanne tells me the average lifespan for a female orca these days is 55 years; for males it’s 30 – 40. Apparently, orcas used to live much longer; life spans have shortened by some 40 years in this century. Scientists believe the male/female discrepancy may be because whales store toxins from their diet and environment in their blubber; mothers, in nursing their young, shed the toxins in their milk. Males, on the other hand, have no way to rid their bodies of toxic buildup, and the sad result is a shorter lifespan. But it’s not an easy thing to study. “When they die, whales usually sink. They don’t float ashore,” says Jeanne. “We were lucky when the body of L-8 washed ashore in the 1970’s. We were able to study it, and we have the entire skeleton on display in the Whale Museum.” (We often pay our respects to L-8 on our San Juan Islands trips.)
Due to their ‘unique and irreplaceable cultural community,’ the Southern Resident Orcas were put on the Endangered Species List in 2005. And in April 2007, Washington’s governor Christine Gregoire proclaimed June Orca Awareness Month, “…to focus attention on the plight of the fragile Southern Resident Community of orcas, to honor their presence in our waters, and to speed up efforts to recover the population.”
Given the current cultural and political climate, efforts to further protect and enhance the whales’ future appear promising. But if you’d like to see these magical, mystical creatures up close and personal, one of the best ways is a whale watch boat cruise – offered on many of Bicycle Adventures’ trips to the San Juan Islands. Your chances of spotting them while simply pedaling around the islands are also quite good, since our routes often follow the coastline, stopping off at several of their haunts. Lime Kiln Park and Cattle Point, places we visit on our trips, “offer some of the best shore-side whale watching in the world,” says Jeanne Hyde. Hopefully, you’ll get many chances to see them as you explore the islands. We predict you’ll find them – as Jeanne does, and as we do – spectacularly, hauntingly beautiful.
← Read about our San Juan Islands-Victoria tour
← Read about our San Juan Islands-6 Day tour
← Read about our San Juan Islands-4 Day tour
← Read about our San Juan Islands Camping tour