Which tour to take? The all-day ecosystem, whale and wildlife tour only happens a few times per year, with only one sailing in the spring. The coincidence that it falls during the four days of my trip removes any hesitation about which tour to book.

The Orca Behavior Institute researchers had recently posted about a trip with Maya’s Legacy, which is what brought me to their website in the first place. The Orca Behavior Institute‘s endorsement lends credibility for solid wildlife stewardship and success in finding said wildlife.

Despite the five-day forecast prediction for 50° and showers, the day of our adventure arrived warm and cloudless – a comfortable, gorgeous Pacific Northwest day!

The Adventure Begins

With three guides, two researchers and ten guests aboard, our first stop was Spieden Island, reliable for Steller sea lions basking on the rocks. Only the males haul out here. As we drift past cormorants and harlequin ducks, someone spots a family of river otters! They weren’t too comfortable with us stopping to stare, but soon settled back into whatever mischief they were up to when we spotted them porpoising along the shoreline.

Spieden Island

In 1969, Spieden Island was developed to be an exclusive hunting camp. Mouflon sheep from the Middle East, Asian Sika deer and European Fallow deer were imported. In 1970, the media were invited to tour the new posh operation. Outrage ensued. The proverbial “fish in a barrel”, stray bullets reaching inhabited San Juan Island. The business never succeeded. The sheep and deer remain.

Orcas!

Sailing north into Canadian waters, we came across a pod of six Bigg’s Orcas cruising with intention through Shingle Bay. We stayed parallel to their path, 200 yards away. Unlike so many other outfitter guides who, similarly, aren’t allowed to approach wildlife, so instead put themselves in the animals’ path, our captain and all the other whale-watching boats out here stay out of the orcas’ path. When the orca change course, so do we, always exceeding the minimum allowable distance. It’s refreshing, and in my experience, rare, to have a company practice what it preaches in this regard. There are countless individuals and entities protective of these whales, and there is always someone watching. It’s good for the whales. Also, I forgot my long lens at home.Hear the blow, see the spray, watch the dorsal fin arc out of the water and then sink straight down. The rhythm of the movement is comforting, mesmerizing. Using the unique shapes of their white saddle patches and white eye patches, our guides identified this group as T90 with her three offspring (T90B, T90C and T90D) and unrelated brothers T167A and T167B. The “T” is for transient; now, more appropriately called Biggs.

Decades ago, we thought there were resident orca pods and transient orca pods. This location-based designation didn’t hold up as our knowledge grew. Both of these orca species travel widely and can share the same waters, although they are culturally and genetically distinct. They don’t socialize, breed or intermingle at all. The number indicates the oldest known female, the matriarch, and the letters indicate her offspring in birth order.

At the Navy Channel, the orcas turn back. The captain cuts the engine, not quite sure which direction they went. They resurface a distance behind us. Based on their behavior and the lack of any sustained hunting or surface commotion during the hunt or kill, our experts suspect the pod caught a harbor seal. Bigg’s orcas are mammal specialists, feeding on seals, sealions, porpoises and whales.

And then, they play. Spy-hopping, tail-slapping, cavorting. It looks like the relief of success after hard work and an uncertain outcome.

People who live along this channel all stopped what they were doing to watch the orcas play.

They settled, then moved on past us, through the channel, passing in front of Mount Baker. We left them there to see what else the Salish Sea had to show us.

Social Structure

Orcas form matrilineal groups, called pods. Pods consist of the matriarch, the oldest living female, and her offspring. Each pod has their own dialect. Pods will temporarily join together, forming large groups of dozens of individuals.

Biggs tend to travel in small family groups of three to seven individuals, consisting of immediate offspring. When a Biggs daughter has her own calf, she will then soon start her own pod. Unique in animal social structure, males stay with their mother for life. They visit other pods to breed and then return to their mother’s pod. Resident orcas live in larger family pods that can include up to four generations. These are close-knit, highly structured families. The resident orcas are fish specialists and, in the Pacific Northwest, feed almost exclusively on Chinook salmon. There are three pods of resident orcas here: J pod (27 individuals), K pod (15 individuals) and L pod (34 individuals). These Southern Resident Killer Whales were listed as endangered in 2015 largely due to declining salmon populations. This population of orcas ranges from Northern California to British Columbia. (There is a thriving Northern Resident population off the Pacific coast of Canada. These two populations of orcas are genetically distinct and do not interbreed). The J Pod winters in the Salish Sea, while K Pod and L Pod travel to the waters of Northern California. In the summers, they all meet in Puget Sound, in a superpod to reconnect and feast on Chinook salmon. That would be something to see!

On our way back toward Friday Harbor, we passed some harbor seal haulouts. These are the puppies of the sea. Just look at those eyes!

And rhinoceros auklets. They are related to puffins and, in my opinion, among the more exotic of our seabirds. This was a special encounter for me!

Heading into the Haro Strait along San Juan Island, we came upon another pod of orcas. This is T123 with her three offspring. T123, Sydney, was born in 1985 to T46, one of the last killer whales to be captured in US waters, destined for life in depressingly small marine park pools.

This capture of the Budd Inlet Six led to legislation outlawing the capture of killer whales, and these six orcas were released back into the wild. T46 lived to be at least 57 years old, wild and free. I am watching these four orcas today only because of those protections. We’ve come a long way.

There was much to see and much to learn on this sunny, warm spring day out on the Salish Sea with Maya’s Legacy.

If you’re interested in purchasing or licensing any images you see here, please email me at SNewenham at exploringnaturephotos.com, and I’ll make it happen.

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The post Salish Sea Orcas appeared first on Exploring Nature by Sheila Newenham.

It’s the network of the oceans, much like mycelium is the network of forests. Twenty-five percent of the ocean’s fish depend on coral reefs for food, shelter, and nurseries for their young.

It’s easy to quickly pass by corals, dismissing them as responseless vegetation, a garden that fish, rays, and marine mammals cruise through. But the “plants” are animals! It’s all alive.

Isn’t the star coral beautiful!? All of these worms will tuck into a hole and disappear when predators (and snorkelers) get too close.

Now that I know, I slowly move over the coral, looking closely. I always find something beautiful, fascinating, and new to me.

Here’s what I’ve learned.

Hard Corals

Hard coral is composed of calcium carbonate (the rock-like stuff) that forms the framework for thousands of polyp colonies. These polyps are animals with a body and a mouth that feed on plankton and tiny fish. It is these colonies of polyps that form coral. 

The healthy coral we see is a result of symbiosis with algae, a relationship that benefits both organisms. The algae live within the polyps and are what give coral its color. Algae produce carbohydrates that the polyps use for food. The coral provides a protected environment for the algae and aids in its photosynthesis.

Soft Corals

Soft corals rely on a flexible, protein-based mesoglea (jelly-like core) reinforced by sclerites, tiny, spiky calcium structures for support. Look at all those tiny polyps on the purple stalks of the sea plume!!

Sea Sponges

Another marine invertebrate that you might not associate with the animal kingdom is the sea sponge. They are filter feeders, structured with canals, chambers, and cavities that enable water to move through the sponge for feeding, gas exchange (“breathing”), and excretion. Sponge larvae are flagellated and can swim; however, adults are non-motile and remain attached to a single spot.

There are flat sponges and tube sponges. They are all so unique in structure, color, pattern, and texture. There are over 5000 known species of sponges inhabiting all of the world’s oceans.

Other Atypical Reef Animals

Some of my other favorite animals in coral reef ecosystems are anemones and sea urchins. Anemones are predatory invertebrate marine animals related to corals and jellyfish. Their mouths are surrounded by stinging tentacles that enable them to prey upon small animals such as fish, crabs, shrimp, and jellyfish. They can be found in deep seas and the intertidal zone, too, where they contract and fold their tentacles into their bodies to avoid drying out until the water returns.

There are 950 species of sea urchins, who like anemones, live from intertidal zones to deep seas. Urchins crawl along on tube feet, feeding on algae and sponges. They come in a variety of colors, long-spined and short-spined, pencil-thick and needle-thin. These dramatic creatures are usually found tucked away within a reef, making them difficult to photograph.

Next time you have the opportunity to see a reef, either below water, from a dock, or tidepooling, stop and stare. You will be amazed!

If you’re interested in purchasing or licensing any images you see here, please email me at SNewenham at exploringnaturephotos.com, and I’ll make it happen.

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The post The Fantastic Life of Coral appeared first on Exploring Nature by Sheila Newenham.

Elephant seals are not adept – or effective, really – in locomotion on land. They ride the surf, patiently letting the waves carry them as far onto the beach as possible until each successive wave ceases to buoy them forward.

Then, the hard work begins. They shimmy—each effort sending a ripple through their blubber from head to toe. In the fifteen feet between the surf line and the seal pile, this one stopped to rest FIVE times!

At times, they are remarkably tolerant of another 2000 – 3000 pound animal joining the heap. Is it the price to pay for warmth on this chilly day? Other times, some small slight results in the ostracizing of one of the (relatively) smaller ones.

Their impressive roars rise above the blustering surf. A flotilla of harbor seals with their innocent puppy dog eyes lingers offshore, bobbing in the waves.I’m watching in the rain from the elephant seal overlook at Chimney Rock. I took an unexpected detour on my bobcat search (cats don’t like to be out in the rain) to see if the seals were here yet. I’d never seen one – or heard one – before. Their chatter is even more impressive than their size and comical facial features.

I am motivated to drive around and down to Drake’s Beach, the hot spot for elephant seal viewing in January and February, to see if there are any hauled out there yet. Although the beach will be closed to give the elephant seals the space they need and to protect people from themselves, I would still be much, much closer to these fascinating blubbery sea beasts.

Alas, the beach is open and empty. In the cold, windy December rain, I am alone. I have to come back this way one day to coincide with the peak viewing to get a closer look at the behavior and personality of these unique California Elephant seals.

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The post California Elephant Seals appeared first on Exploring Nature by Sheila Newenham.

Rudy’s Adventures

Rudy and Ruth took Rob, me, and another couple on a snorkel tour to Lark Key. It was a 20-minute boat ride to where we anchored for our first snorkel. We all jumped in with the general direction, “head that way.”  The lush, diverse, and healthy coral supports a wide variety of life – fish, urchins, sea stars, feather worms, sponges, and more. We were free to wander the reef and linger as much as we liked.

After about an hour in the water, we moved to anchor at a second spot. This location had more starfish than I’ve ever seen, each with a subtly different pattern, like a fingerprint.

The reef was as lush and diverse as the first location. The structures, colors and patterns never cease to amaze me.

After 45 minutes, we motored a short distance over to Ivan’s Island for lunch. Ivan’s is a small eclectic Caye with a few rustic buildings, hammocks, a fish cleaning station, and an open grill. Several dogs comprising the welcoming committee scampered out to greet us on the dock.

Rudy filleted some fresh fish and lobster while Ruth chopped vegetables and pineapple. Meanwhile, we indulged in some rum punch. The meal was sweet, creamy, and rich. Delightful!

After some digestion, we snorkeled a third spot until a storm chased us in. Compared to the busier mesoamerican reef tours, the corals here are much healthier (no bleaching at all!) and more diverse, and never did I bump into (or even see) another snorkeler.

Silk Caye with Go Sea Belize

This is a very different tour from yesterday’s Rudy and Ruth family adventure. We paid by credit card, signed a liability waiver, and joined 14 others on a boat for a safety briefing before departing.

Silk Caye is 20 miles from Placencia on the southern mesoamerican reef, the second-largest barrier reef in the world, stretching 700 miles from the Yucatan to Honduras. After 45 minutes with two 250hp outboards, we pulled up on a patch of sand surrounded by all the colors of the Caribean. A sign on this itty-bitty island instructs all visitors to wear masks, a holdover from the pandemic years (there were no such masks). We listened to a required briefing by a park ranger about the marine reserve. Silk Caye is in a no-take part of the reserve, and we must have a guide to snorkel here. No solo snorkeling.

We split into two groups. Our group of seven gears up and wades into the cool, shallow waters. Early in the snorkel, after being bumped into by other snorkelers, it became evident that the best place for me was lingering in the back. Peacefully alone. Some of the coral here is bleached and dying. It is lacking in the diversity of life we saw at Lark Caye.

However, since its protected, the fish are larger. The biggest barracuda I’ve ever seen was hanging out above a brain coral. I took some pictures and then swam around him, giving him a wide berth to get on the right side of the sun. When I got in location and turned around, he was gone. I hope he’s not stalking me.

After we circled the caye, we came ashore for a rice, bean, and chicken lunch. After eating, we were encouraged to discard our chicken bones and leftovers into the ocean. In the marine reserve. And now it’s apparent why the barracuda hangs out here. And how he got so big. He’s eating all the discarded food. I’m glad I had a vegetarian lunch and didn’t have to pack my chicken bones back to Placencia. Belize has some of the most progressive ocean conservation policies in the world. This is surprising. And disappointing.

Now we get back in the water with fingers full of the chicken the barracuda is eating. “You’d better hope he’s full,” our guide jokes. We snorkeled across a narrow, deep blue chasm to another reef. There’s a huge lobster, a thick sea cucumber, and schools of fish over here.

A coral nursery grows baby coral to help restore the reef. There’s a seemingly endless grove of elkhorn coral. I wonder if it’s the result of their successful nursery.

Back on the boat, we move along the reef, outside the reserve, to a grassy area with nurse sharks, southern stingrays, and a variety of cowfish. The highlight of this spot was the appearance of a pair of loggerhead turtles.

I turned to face this girl swimming straight at me with her posse of remora. She didn’t seem to be altering her course, so I thought it best to move out of her way. But I wonder, was she just going to swim right through me (charging foul!) or turn at the last minute, jostling me in her wake? I’ll never know.

This was a quick stop, and although the turtles lingered, I had to get back on the boat or be left to swim to shore. It was a different experience than the day before. The turtles definitely made it worthwhile!

Tomorrow, we will kayak to Placencia Caye and snorkel on our own – no time constraints, no guides.

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The post Snorkeling Placencia appeared first on Exploring Nature by Sheila Newenham.