When we are forced to concede, as with orcas, that we are not unique in our intelligence, that we may not be the only creatures worthy of being considered persons, then we likewise have to reconsider our previous, Western-grown position as special beings somehow separated from nature, with such separation being something desirable instead of the abomination that it would be to someone from the Kwakwaka’waka tribe. It is this latter worldview, one that places humans on an equal, and utterly codependent, footing with nature, as well as the spiritual components that accompany that worldview, that in the cold light of day makes logical sense, especially when we are confronted by the majestic truth that is an orca in full breach or a tall black fin approaching our kayak in the fog.
This realization affects our relationship not just with killer whales, but with all the natural world and with all the animals with whom we share it. It demands that we discard the invented notion of animals as property and recognize that granting them rights does not force us to lose control of the animals we already control; it just requires us to treat them decently.
It also forces us to recognize that we cannot continue degrading and gradually destroying the natural environment that created this bounty of wondrous life, because we are connected to it as deeply as are the wildlife who inhabit it. Our survival as a species, as human beings, of everything that defines us as human, depends on its survival, and so far, it is not looking good for any of us.
In many ways, the attempt to preserve the last remaining killer whales in the Salish Sea is a kind of grand experiment. Never before, for such an extended period, have so many wild orcas lived in close proximity with a massive population of several million human beings. It has never worked well for killer whales in the past; the history of human-orca interaction is almost entirely littered with the corpses of dead cetaceans. So it is a noble effort, even if perhaps doomed, an attempt to prove that human history does not have to lead to the inevitable extinction of every wild thing with which we come in contact, to the destruction of every wild place, every last spark of what makes us human. Only time will tell if it will succeed, but as long as the orcas are still with us, then perhaps we can tell ourselves that there is still hope for us, too.
Recovering our humanity may be the real gift of the orcas, what they can teach us. It’s our choice whether to listen.
Acknowledgments
THIS BOOK WAS WRITTEN WITH MATERIAL GATHERED OVER SOME 25 years of observing killer whales and writing about the challenges they face. It was made possible by the openness and willingness of the many scientists who study the whales to spend time with me talking and explaining, and by the many whale activists and wildlife naturalists who take the time to share their knowledge with laymen like myself.
Howard Garrett and Susan Berta of the Orca Network, who have been tireless in their efforts to promote the interests of the Southern Resident killer whales and the salmon that feed them—not to mention to earn the release of Lolita from her tank in Miami—earn special mention. One could not ask for more helpful and generous people to undertake this cause and to guide hapless journalists in the right direction.
I’m also particularly grateful to Ken Balcomb for his many hours spent in interview, as well as his phenomenal crew at the Center for Whale Research, notably Dave Ellifrit and Erin Heydenreich, as well as Astrid Van Ginneken.
A number of other scientists have proved generous with their time as well, particularly Paul Spong and Helena Symonds of British Columbia’s OrcaLab. I also would like to thank John K.B. Ford of Canada’s Department of Fisheries, Brad Hanson and Lynne Barre of the National Marine Fisheries Service, Lori Marino of the Emory Center for Ethics, Naomi Rose of the Animal Welfare Institute, former UW researcher David Bain, Val Veirs and Scott Veirs of BeamReach, Fred Felleman of Friends of the Earth, and UW researcher Dave Haas, for the time and expertise they’ve been willing to share.
There are also a number of scientists researching orcas around the world whose work has also proved invaluable in putting together this book, even though I was not able to interview them, notably Craig Matkin and Eva Saulitis, the leading experts on Alaska’s killer-whale population; Robin Baird, who has led a number of orca-research projects in the Pacific Northwest for many years, currently as part of Cascadia Research Collective; Lance Barrett-Lennard, one of the Northwest’s leading orca scientists; Ingrid Visser, the chief orca scientist working in New Zealand; Phillip Morin of NMFS, one of the leading specialists in orca genetics; and Andrew Foote, whose work with North Atlantic killer whales is proving vital across several fronts.
Bob Otis of Wisconsin’s Ripon College, who heads up the summer research team that mans the observation station inside of the lighthouse at Lime Kiln Point State Park, deserves special recognition for his many hours not only observing killer whales there, but also providing an interpretive service for the visitors who want to know more about orcas. Bob was generous with his time in helping guide this book.
We all owe a debt of gratitude to the Whale Museum of Friday Harbor, which has long been one of the main centers of education and activism on behalf of the killer whales and other marine life in the San Juans, and to the many people who have contributed to its ongoing efforts over the years, including former director Rich Osborne and Kari Koski, the longtime director of its SoundWatch program. Special thanks to Jenny Atkinson, the museum’s current director, and Cindy Hansen, its education coordinator, for their tireless work.
I’d also like to thank the crew of rangers at San Juan County Park, where I have camped so many times over the years that I nearly qualify for permanent residency, for their superb care and stewardship, as well as their friendship, especially Joe Luma and Eugene Pasinski, as well as the late Ron Abbott.
I also have a debt of gratitude to the people who made it possible for this book to come about, notably my agent, Jill Marsal of Marsal Lyons Agency, who continues to provide smart and wise advice, and who demonstrated remarkable skill in navigating the shift in subject matter this book represents for me, and to my editors at The Overlook Press, Mark Krotov and Dan Crissman, who helped shape the text and make it more accessible. Many thanks as well to my act indexer, Beth Naumann-Montana, and to Allyson Rudolph and Kait Heacock at The Overlook Press for their superb work getting the book across the finish line.
Last of all, I want to thank my daughter, Fiona, for being my inspiration and muse and the reason I write with hope for our future.
Seeing Wild Orcas: A Note
MOST OF THE WORLD’S ORCA POPULATIONS TEND TO OCCUPY waters that are difficult to reach, but North America’s Pacific Northwest offers people a chance to see them in the wild for themselves, particularly in two prime locations: The San Juan Islands, and Vancouver Island’s interior northern coast.
The San Juan Islands are reachable by ferry from Anacortes, a city about 90 minutes’ drive north of Seattle. The ferry ride to San Juan Island, where most of the whale-watching activity occurs, takes about an hour. Friday Harbor has full accommodations for visitors, as does Eastsound on Orcas Island (another whale-watch departure point).
In addition to the boat-based tours, discussed in Chapter Seven, that leave frequently from Friday Harbor, the San Juans offer a nearly unique opportunity to view the whales from land, particularly along the western coast of the main San Juan Island. Land-based whale watching has by far the least impact on the whales, and can often offer you the closest look, particularly at the two most popular spots: Lime Kiln Point State Park, and the County Land Bank, a stretch of open space to the south of the park. In both locations, the orcas are known to frequently come in close to a shoreline that features a 1,300-foot cliff underwater. They can also be viewed, though slightly farther out, with great regularity at San Juan County Park, two miles north of Lime Kiln.
This park is also the main departure point for most of the island’s guided kayak tours, and these tours are in the heart of orca-viewing territory. Individual kayakers must obtain a permit—which includes a session on w
ildlife protocols—from the park rangers before launching.
Northern Vancouver Island is more difficult to reach, but there is a significantly greater orca population there (there are over 200 Northern Residents, while Southern Resident numbers are down to 79) and the setting is far more wild and pristine. You can get there by a couple of driving routes: From Victoria, at the island’s southern end (which itself can be reached by ferry either from Anacortes or Port Angeles), you can hit the island’s main north-south highway, from which a four-hour drive will get you where you need to be. You can also drive to Vancouver, B.C., and take a ferry to Nanaimo, which will also put you on the same route.
Two towns there provide whale-watching access: The larger city of Port McNeill, which has full accommodations and ferry service to the nearby interior islands, and the tiny, quaint village on tidal stilts that is Telegraph Cove, where there are also full but more limited accommodations, and where most of the kayak tours depart. Individual kayakers also will want to depart there and take the coastal route south to Kaikash Creek and other wilderness camping sites. Both towns have full powerboat-based whale-tour operations that are first-rate. (The nearby island town of Alert Bay, home of the Kwakwaka’wakw tribe and worth visiting just to tour the cultural center and museum, also offers both boat-based tours and kayaking departure points as well. It can be reached by the ferry from Port McNeill.)
Regardless of what kind of craft you use, always remember when you are on the water to respect the orcas, and always keep in mind that these creatures are in a fight for survival and that your presence can stress them and harm them in subtle ways that eventually cause them to lose that fight. In any kind of boat, always maintain the minimum safe distance of 100 yards. Never, ever, position yourself directly in the path of the orcas. If you are in a powerboat, turn off your engines and maintain silence after establishing your position. If you are in a kayak, pull into a cove or get into a kelp bed—at a bare minimum, raft up with other kayakers so that the orcas don’t have to run an obstacle course. Even though kayaks don’t disrupt with noise, they can still stress orcas by herding them and forcing them to change their course of direction or interfere with their hunting.
Just keep in mind, in all events, that the whales are not there to enthrall humans, much as they might do so. Rather, we are guests in their home, and being respectful and careful is what good guests do.
Notes
Epigraphs
pg. ix “A dolphin appears to be a ‘who’”: Thomas W. White, In Defense of Dolphins: The New Moral Frontier (London: John Wiley & Sons, 2008), p. 184.
“A human being is part of a whole”: Albert Einstein, quoted in David Suzuki, The Sacred Balance: Restoring Our Place in Nature (Vancouver: Greystone Books, 1999), p. 26.
Chapter 1
pg. 5 I had read her a book: Paul Owen Lewis, Davy’s Dream: A Young Boy’s Adventures with Wild Orcas (Berkeley: Tricycle Press, 1999).
pg. 8 There’s a local legend: The story appears in Peter J. Fromm, Whale Tales: Human Interactions With Whales, Volume Two (Friday Harbor: Whale Tales Press, 2000), pp. 9–10. The eyewitness account was written by local resident Bruce Conway.
Chapter 2
pg. 16 “Our people have a great respect for the whales: Paul Kennedy, “Legends of the Kwakwaka’wakw,” CBC Radio, June 28, 2013. http://www.cbc.ca/ideas/episodes/2013/06/28/legends-of-the-kwakwakawakw/
pg. 16 One legend tells: Various versions of this legend appear in Haida storyteller texts, but the best-known version of it is in Paul Owen Lewis’s book for children, Storm Boy (Berkeley: Tricycle Press, 2001).
pg. 17 In ancient times: Kennedy, “Legends of the Kwakwaka’wakw.”
pg. 18 One of these lives in the San Juan Islands: The book is by Mary J. Getten, Communicating With Orcas: The Whales’ Perspective (Victoria: Trafford Publishing, 2002).
pg. 20 One of the better known examples: Doug Esser, “Orcas Circle Ferry Transporting Tribal Artifacts to Bainbridge Island,” Seattle Times, Oct. 31, 2013. http://seattletimes.com/html/localnews/2022166728_orcaferryxml.html
pg. 21 It’s true of captive whales: Alexandra Morton, Listening to Whales: What the Orcas Have Taught Us (New York: Ballantine Books, 2002), pp. 96–98.
pg. 22 There already has been a considerable backlash: Justin Gregg, Are Dolphins Really Smart? The mammal behind the myth (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2012).
pg. 26 There are plenty of skeptics: Keith Cooper, “Dolphin Studies Could Reveal Secrets of Extraterrestrial Intelligence,” Astrobiology Magazine, Sept. 2, 2011.
pg. 28 Dolphin scientist Thomas White: Thomas I. White, In Defense of Dolphins: The New Moral Frontier (Oxford: Blackwell Publishing, 2007).
pg. 31 Lori Marino observes: For more details on Marino’s findings on the anatomy of the orca brain, see Lori Marino, Chet C. Sherwood, Bradley N. Delman, Ceuk Y. Tang, Thomas P. Nadich, and Patrick R. Hof, “Neuroanatomy of the Killer Whale (Orcinus orca) From Magnetic Resonance Images,” The Anatomical Record, Part A (2004), 1256–1263.
Chapter 3
pg. 39 That describes the ethereal daily life: Two excellent explorations of the daily life of killer whales can be found in Douglas H. Chadwick, The Grandest of Lives: Eye to Eye With Whales, (San Francisco: Sierra Club Books, 2006) pp. 119–167, and Astrid Van Ginneken, Togetherness Is Our Home: An Orca’s Journey Through Life (Friday Harbor: Booksurge, 2007).
pg. 43 The sophistication of dolphin-family echolocation: Tony Perry, “Navy Dolphins Discover Rare Old Torpedo Off Coronado,” Los Angeles Times, May 17, 2013. http://articles.latimes.com/2013/may/17/local/la-me-torpedo-dolphins-20130518
pg. 43 Orcas’ sonic capacities: Louis Bergeron, “‘Orca Ears’ Inspire Stanford Researchers to Develop Ultrasensitive Undersea Microphone,” Stanford University News Service, June 23, 2011. http://news.stanford.edu/pr/2011/pr-orca-ears-microphone-062311.html
pg. 50 There is a constellation: Justin Gregg, Are Dolphins Really Smart?, pp. 135–182.
pg. 52 Orca vocalizations typically are: The definitive study of resident orca vocalizations remains John K.B. Ford’s “Acoustic Behaviour of Resident Killer Whales Off Vancouver Island, British Columbia,” Canadian Journal of Zoology, 1989, 67(3): 727–745, 10.1139/z89–105. However, subsequent studies have substantially helped to clarify the picture, notably: Volker Bernt Deeke, “Stability and Change of Killer Whale (Orcinus Orca) Dialects,” University of British Columbia, June 1988; Rüdiger Riesch, John K.B. Ford, Frank Thomsen, “Stability and group specificity of stereotyped whistles in resident killer whales, Orcinus orca, off British Columbia,” Animal Behaviour, Volume 71, Issue 1, January 2006, pp. 79–91; Olga A. Filatova, Volker B. Deecke, John K.B. Ford, Craig O. Matkin, Lance G. Barrett-Lennard, Mikhail A. Guzeev, Alexandr M. Burdin, and Erich Hoyt, “Call diversity in the North Pacific killer whale populations: implications for dialect evolution and population history,” Animal Behaviour, Volume 83, Issue 3, March 2012, pp. 595–603; Volker B. Deeke, John K.B Forde, and Paul Spong, “Dialect change in resident killer whales: implications for vocal learning and cultural transmission,”Animal Behaviour, Volume 60, Issue 5, November 2000, pp. 629–638; Richard Riesch and V.B. Deecke, “Whistle communication in mammal-eating killer whales (Orcinus orca): further evidence for acoustic divergence between ecotypes,” Behavioral Ecology and Sociobiology 65:1377–1387, 2011; and Nicola Rehn, Stefanie Teichert, and Frank Thomsen, “Structural and Temporal Emission Patterns of Variable Pulsed Calls in Free-Ranging Killer Whales,” Behaviour, 144, 307–329, 2007.
pg. 57 A team of researchers: The finished study is Andrew D. Foote, Rachael M. Griffin, David Howitt, Lisa Larsson, Patrick J.O. Miller, and A. Rus Hoelzel, “Killer Whales Are Capable of Vocal Learning,” Biology Letters, doi: 10.1098 /rsbl.2006.0525.
pg. 58 That was the adjective: See the documentary, The Whale (2011).
pg. 58 Two journalists who arrived: See Michael Parfit and Suzanne Chisholm, The Lost Whale: The True Story of an Orca Named Luna (New York: St. Martins Press, 20
13). A video of Luna imitating a boat motor can be seen at http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3X8nIXTtgBk.
Chapter 4
pg. 68 There are some variations: The main version of this myth can be found at Mary L. Beck, Heroes and Heroines in Tlingit-Haida Legend, (Seattle: Alaska Northwest Books, 1989), pp. 3–14. One of the variations can be found at Ghandl of the Qayahl Llaanas (translated by Robert Bringhurst), Nine Visits to the Mythworld (Vancouver: Douglas & McIntyre, 2000), pp. 97–110. The version involving the sea otter can be found at Wikipedia: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Natsilane
pg. 69 A Southeast-Alaskan Tsimshian myth: This is from Shannon Thunderbird’s online collection of Northwest Native oral traditions, “Animal Stories and Legends and Teachings: Orca (‘Neexl),” http://www.shannonthunderbird.com/stories%20n-z.htm.
pg. 70 One of the land ancestors of all whales: See Annalisa Berta, James L. Sumich, and Kit M. Kovacs, eds., Marine Mammals: Evolutionary Biology (New York: Academic Press, 2006), pp. 57–81
pg. 71 The fossils of the Basilosaurus: See Herman Melville, Moby Dick, or The Whale, Chapter CIV, “The Fossil Whale.”
pg. 72 Delphinidae are the largest: See William F. Perrin, Bernd Wursig, and J.G.M. Thewissen, eds., Encyclopedia of Marine Mammals (London: Academic Press, 2009), pp. 298–302.
pg. 73 It was Bigg who had pioneered: See Bruce Obee and Graeme Ellis, Guardians of the Whales: The Quest to Study Whales in the Wild (Anchorage: Alaska Northwest Books, 1992), pp. xi–xiii, and Erich Hoyt, Orca: The Whale Called Killer (Ontario: Camden House, 1990), pp. 69–108.
Of Orcas and Men Page 29