Kayaking with(out) Orcas

Like every other sentient being on this planet, I have a long list of things I want to do/ places I want to see that I never seem to get around to. It is only when I find myself with a lot of time on my hands and feeling restless (the two do generally go hand in hand) that I started mentally reviewing this list, eager to go into planning mode. This is what happened to me last month, when crap weather had me stuck in a hotel room in Leipzig (or soggy and looking for Hefeweisens, but that's another story). While surfing the internet, I stumbled upon a saved link about kayaking with Orcas in the San Juan Islands, something that has always been high on the afore-mentioned list. I sent said link to my friend, Diana. Diana was enthused. I was enthused. We were going kayaking.

I called and set up the tour with the helpful people at SeaQuest. They responded by e-mailing me a comprehensive list of what to bring, what to expect, even a helpful suggestion that I might want to consider working out some (under the "physical condition" portion of their paperwork, I replied "somewhere between couch potato and semi-active couch potato"). They also seemed to be very intent on us bringing the proper footwear, I would go as far as saying they were a bit fixated. So, expert shopper that I am, I went online and ordered, sight unseen, a pair of green water shoes. What awaited when I returned from Leipzig was a pair of the brightest neon green monstrosities I'd ever seen. I have no photos of the offending fashion faux pas, but if any of my Floridian friends noticed a bright green glow in the night time sky, off in the Northwestern distance during Memorial Day weekend, I say 'You're welcome.'
But back to the adventure at hand, we arrived in Friday Harbor late on Friday night, after a three hour drive from Seattle and a two hour ferry ride from Anacortes. We were to meet our group the following morning at 8am by the ferry harbor. After a few hours sleep, we trudged through bone chilling rain to the designated spot to find...no one.

I was already struggling with my phone to find the SeaQuest phone number when, Andrew, our guide/ driver/ cook/ first aid technician/ killer bon fire starter (we kept him busy is what I'm saying) arrived. He informed us that the group of four that was supposed to join us had bailed and that the weather was going to suck all day long, although I'm sure he put both facts  in a more diplomatic fashion than this. Since it was now only the three of us, it was cold, there were strong winds expected and we were tired, we decided to push the departure date to Sunday morning.

With this extra time, I managed to ditch my cute, fashionable (read: not warm) jacket in favor of a proper outdoorsy raincoat; we got to know roughly fifty percent of the population of Friday Harbor and I spoke with Mark, the ultra-knowledgeable SeaQuest proprietor. As soon as he ascertained that our interest was 95% Orcas, 5% actual kayaking, he suggested an itinerary change. Instead of kayaking to another island, away from the prime Orca feeding spots at this particular time, he suggested basing ourselves on the west side of the island and doing short out and back trips, or yo-yo'ing as he called it. More orca potential, less physical exertion? It was a no-brainer.

Sunday morning, we started the day with better weather and now, with a new agenda, we were able to set up camp before even entering the water, eliminating the need to stow so much baggage into our kayaks. More accurately put, Andrew and another guide, Dan, were able to set up our camp. Diana and I, along with the other campers, were busy focusing on the bay, waiting for Orcas to dazzle us with their acrobatics at any moment.

Andrew provided us with a thorough explanation about kayaking and what we were and were not supposed to do (try not to stand up in the kayak was a biggie). I imagine this part takes forever with a large group, but since it was just the two of us, we were fairly attentive and we had no questions, we were in the water by 11:00am. Before noon, Andrew had already spotted a small pod of Dall's Porpoises. They are also known as fake Orcas for their black and white markings.

Note the four Dall's Porpoises just in front of Andrew's kayak.

The next sighting was mine. I spotted a porpoise with interesting coloring near by and pointed it out. I asked Andrew what it was and his response was "Humph". He whipped his kayak around and sped over to the mystery mammal,  getting within feet of him, until the dolphin spotted him and took off. Diana and I who had, up until this point been quite proud of our kayaking skills in keeping our vessel moving generally in a forward direction, may have muttered something about Andrew being a show-off at this point. With the same agility, he returned to us and when faced with the same question about the creature's identity, again responded "Humph". He suspected that it was a Pacific White-Sided Dolphin, but wanted to look into it further. I have since sent this photo to Mark the owner, who agreed with both the "Humph" and the likelihood that it is a Pacific White-Sided Dolphin, but has forwarded it onto other experts to be more certain. If, in fact, this is a new, previously undiscovered species that we stumbled upon, we have already determined that it is to be called the ABD dolphin or the Andrew Berti Diana dolphin (in the interest of scientific fairness, we are going alphabetical on this.)

We were on a roll, it was only a matter of time before the red velvet curtain would part and the Wild Orca Revue would commence. I was happy with the pacing. Seeing the Orcas too soon would overshadow all else. This way, it  was like sitting through the perfectly serviceable opening acts, tingling with the anticipation of the headliner to come. To highlight this point, we came across a bald eagle who gamely posed for photos, even as we allowed ourselves to drift closer and closer to him.

Somewhere between the Eagle and the changing of the tides, which Andrew read perfectly (seriously, the guy was like the Tide Whisperer, I think he had his radio only for effect, he could probably have just stuck his finger up in the air and put Al Roker to shame), it was time to return to our campsite. We had kayaked almost all the way to the end of the island and back, for a total of approximately 12-13 miles and had yet to see an Orca. We also had not capsized and were genuinely enjoying ourselves, so there was that. The only damage done were a couple of blisters on my hands that I wore as a badge of my ruggedness and which Andrew promptly tended to.

He also took over back at camp preparing a multi-course dinner that had no business being served on a camping trip. Normally, when I go camping, haute cuisine is a peanut butter and jelly sandwiches or if I really want to go all out, maybe a veggie hot dog on stick plunged into a bon fire. He, along with some chopping help from Diana, prepared a fresh salad, garlic bread (made from freshly pressed garlic- who even knew that was possible?!), and spaghetti with faux meat sauce. It was fantastic!! By the time we were done eating- somewhere around the 3rd go-around for me- it was pouring rain outside of our small shelter and we were enviously eyeballing the other campers who had managed to establish bon fires.

We acquired some damp firewood from the camp office, Andrew set up a tarp and soon we were munching on chocolate brownies by a raging fire. Everything was going right. We had lucked into a private tour with an excellent guide, the weather had co-operated all day, the level of exertion required was perfectly reasonable, the food was A+, all that was missing were the fricking Orcas. And then there was the camp manager that came to warn us of horrible weather the next day. That and tell us that the Orcas had been spotted on the east side of the island, the very side where we had been hanging out all the previous day.

That was okay, we rose the next day after a surprisingly comfortable sleep, determined to put the final missing link into what was turning out to be a great weekend. The weather seemed moody but manageable and we now were experienced kayakers.  Determined to get on with the Orca sightings, we gave Chef Andrew the morning off (preventing what would have probably been a breakfast to rival the Bellagio buffet) and pushed off into the water with Guide Andrew.

At first we spotted some Harbor Seals near the campsite. We lingered for a short while, but Andrew pointed out that the island had more Harbor Seals than humans (not that much of an achievement for the seals, really) and assured us we would see more.

We kayaked on, heading towards Lime Kilm Park, which is the Times Square of Orcas. This is such a hot spot for them that the only US whale watching park sits on this very spot. There was word that there might be some transient Orcas in the area. The transients are a sub-species that have a different diet, different hunting method and different cultural behavior than the resident southern pods. This was explained to me scientifically, yet I took issue with the name "transient" Orcas. It sounded like a bunch of hobos panhandling for change was about to swim up on us. I much prefer the term guest Orcas. Even gypsy Orcas has more of a romantic ring to it.

Almost as surprising as the sudden appearance of Orcas (guest, resident or otherwise) would have been was the arrival of the sun. At first, we did not want to get too excited, but it was unmistakable. There was blue sky, warmth...all the signs of "not a crappy day" were there.

We moved in closer to land where we observed some more of the Harbor Seals, this time in a more leisurely state, and even an out-of-place California Sea Lion that moved much too quickly to be photographed, or perhaps I just moved too slowly.

We also some blood star sea stars that did not move very quickly at all. They were cool but our time was running out and it was quickly becoming apparent that the Orcas were not going to be on our agenda this time around.

We ended up rushing back to camp in order to pack everything up and make our way to the ferry back to Anacortes in time. Of course, we were disappointed at not seeing the majestic and misnomered killer whales, but when so many things do go right, it seems unseemly to complain. I also don't think that I can fairly cross this goal off of my list, which means, next summer, I am going to have to set another date, pull out my ugly green water shoes (which did turn out to be pretty handy when it came to getting in and out of the kayak) and return to Friday Harbor to search anew. It is the least one can do once they have named 1/3 of a dolphin after you.