|
|
| |
|
|
| |
| e-Marginalia
Newsletter |
 |
Issue #19, February 15, 2006 |
|
|
Issue #18, January 15, 2006 |
|
|
Issue #17, December 15, 2005 |
|
|
Issue #16, November 15, 2005 |
|
|
Issue #15, October 21, 2005 |
|
|
Issue #14, September 15, 2005 |
|
|
Issue #13, January 14, 2005 |
|
|
Issue #12, December 14, 2004 |
|
|
Issue #9, September 12, 2004 |
|
|
Issue #8, August 4, 2004 |
|
|
Issue #7, July 7, 2004 |
|
|
Issue #6, June 1, 2004 |
|
|
Issue #5, April 1, 2004 |
|
|
Issue #4, March 1, 2004 |
|
|
Issue #3, February 1, 2004 |
|
|
Issue #2, December 21, 2003 |
|
|
Issue #1, November 21, 2003 |
|
|
| |
|
|
| |
| |
|
|
 I kicked my rudder hard right, dropped the water bottle and reached
for the camera. Then I heard the second “whoosh,” and a third.
Suddenly, whales were blowing all around me. They seemed to be
converging on my boat, and for a split second I experienced that
phenomenon known to kayakers as terrifying euphoria. I had waited a
long time to see them so close, but never expected to have dozens
coming on like waterborne trucks.
The beaches of this area are mostly small loose rocks. I happened to
be opposite a rare cliff wall rising about fifteen feet high. It ran
for about two hundred yards. Dozens of Orca were converging on this
wall, and I was in their path. They were driving salmon ahead of
them into the wall. The salmon, in their panic to escape, were
ramming headfirst into the rock, knocking themselves senseless. The
Orca zipped left and right, picking off the dazed Salmon. Dorsals
sliced through the water like so many black knives. Many came close
enough to touch, but I was not about to stick out a hand while these
carnivores were feeding. Logic does not always enter the brain
during moments of high adrenaline rush.
 I took several shots and basically tried not to move. Once the
initial wave of attackers passed me, I realized I was privy to a
natural phenomenon very few would ever experience. I sat there
watching as a great struggle of life and death played out before me.
Salmon broke the water in all directions only to be taken in mid
flight. I saw several fish grabbed midair but was not quick enough
to capture any of it on film. In fact at this point I was not even
trying. I was simply being in the moment, totally in awe of what was
unfolding before me. This went on for the better part of an hour.
As the frenzy began to subside I watched four Orca line up parallel
to the wall and turn their flukes toward it. They commenced to slap
the water with their tales making large waves that crashed against
the rock.
 They were using the water to dislodge remaining salmon hidden in the
cracks. As the final stragglers rushed from their hiding places,
small dark flashes jumped to take whatever fish the initial assault
had missed.
These were a pod of Dalls porpoise, following the Orca and cleaning
up the stragglers. Porpoise often swim with Orca and there were
plenty of fish to go around. Spouts of water were kicking up
everywhere as the hapless fish ran for their lives. The Dalls were
ballerinas, arcing out of the water, taking a Salmon in their mouth,
and diving back in one smooth motion. The porpoise formed a ring,
keeping a respectful distance from their larger cousins who were in
command, but allowing no victim to escape.
By now the entire event had taken on the aura of a grand play with
myself in the center. I had totally forgotten about taking photos.
I tried to pick out the biggest bull to see how he conducted himself
during all this. While there were two or three around, they just did
not seem to be in charge. Somewhere close by but out of sight was
the alpha bull, silently watching.
 I turned my boat slowly, trying not to disturb the water anymore
than necessary. I simply did not want to draw any attention to
myself at this time. Then I saw him. He was about a half mile out,
and had not been part of the hunt at all. He calmly swam back and
forth, watching over things, making sure his cows and yearlings
executed the hunt properly while he kept his distance. He was either
already well fed, or so into his role as protector, he let all those
tasty morsels pass.
He was perfectly aware of my presence even though I had not seen him
until the hunt was almost over. His toleration of me being between
him and the pod was proof he considered me no threat. He was
broadside to me with head slightly elevated, enough for his small
black eye to make contact. I felt he knew what I was thinking at
that moment. We understood each other. I could watch as long as I
did not interfere with the natural order of things. I had in effect
just been allowed to witness a highly secret ceremony and the chief
of the clan was telling me it’s time to move on.
1 ::
2 ::
3
|
|
|
Home
::
e-Marginalia
::
The Whale’s Gift
/en-BANDO-US_AFI_Spring_125x125/$file/US_AFI_Spring_125x125.gif)
