Lately I’ve been appreciating the mysterious, blanketing fog. It wraps itself around the trees and the land, clinging like spider webs.We left Friday Harbor slowly and headed north, towards the orcas. Luckily for us, the fog cleared as we turned out of the harbor, but for those on the ferry headed west, the fog quieted their hearts and minds, while the sun shone on ours.
We headed north through San Juan Channel, past Flattop into President’s Channel and then finally into Canadian Waters to Point Roberts. In our line of vision were the coal docks and the sky scrapers of Vancouver. The water was smooth as glass with very little wind or rain to disturb any lingering fog. The orca’s dorsal fins reflected the light of the sun, and fish jumped while on the run, madly dashing to escape the orca’s tongue.
There were several large males and calves on the scene. When we lowered the hydrophone into the water we could hear them vocalizing, almost singing. It was exceptionally close, as these same vocalizing orcas passed at a 125 yards off our stern. They were breaching and tail lobbing, playing and hunting in the sun, unaware that further south lay the sleepy time fog.
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