From the Archipelago: Cycles of Life

April-May 1998

This is an article from WaveLength Magazine, available in print in North America and globally on the web.

by Alexandra Morton

What first caught my eye were huge explosions of spray. The whales were zig-zagging at high speed, water streaming off their dorsal fins. They circled a small area where the male was breaching heavily. I knew they were killing something and didn't want to interrupt the hunt. Through binoculars I spotted a large sea lion panting on the surface.

It is very difficult to watch whales kill a mammal. With fish I don't notice the suffering, but in this case the sea lion was clearly in distress. The whales were trying to land a blow without being wounded in return. There were two young calves gaily creating little explosions of spray around the edges of the main event. The gravity of the situation was lost on them.

Finally the hunt was over and it was time to eat. The birds got some and I hoped for bits myself-I am always interested in examining stomachs to see what fish are around. Whales don't often eat the guts, and if the lungs are still attached they float to the surface. But today there was nothing left for me.

Once, moments after I saw a harbour porpoise surface among whales, its severed head bobbed to the surface with its everlasting smile still frozen in place.

As I followed the pod of five, a neighbour came up behind me in his speed boat to announce that there was a small humpback whale in the Burdwood Island Group.

When it rains it pours. Months had gone by with no whales at all and today two species at the same time. I hated to leave the orca, but I really wanted to see if little Iwama had come back to feed on the herring again this year. Indeed I got one glimpse of his blow, but that was all.

Herring, the life blood of the sea have returned once again to my beloved archipelago. They bring this place to life, swimming in unseen millions beneath the surface, evident only by their entourage of predators. The humpback and sea lions swim in pairs throughout the channels while tight knots of birds wheel and scream over upwellings.

A few days after the Burdwood Island sighting, I got a call on the radio that a small humpback was off Echo Bay. This time I got two glimpses and then he/she was gone. The next day the whale blew in the darkness of early morning off my float. A week later yet another report of a large one, this time in Kingcome Inlet. But I didn't even get a glimpse.

Whale watching is like that sometimes. Even as I write, my eyes flick over the water. I'm still hoping to see a large back roll and lure me out after phantoms again.

Recently the local newspaper announced that a large salmon producing river in the archipelago called the Kakweikan was going to be sprayed with two chemicals, glyphosate and triclopyr. Both are known to be deadly to salmon and they are sprayed in late summer when the salmon are in the river spawning. The community of Echo Bay decided the assault on local salmon had to stop. Since spraying can be replaced by manual brush cutting, we decided to circulate a petition asking for the watersheds of this area to be designated as pesticide-free.

Unfortunately we are a tiny community of about thirty adults and our pathetic list of signatures meant nothing. So we appealed to our larger region known as area "A", which includes the communities of Alert Bay and Sointula. Many people in those areas rallied in support of pesticide free watersheds and the number of signatures continues to grow.

One afternoon during this time, my daughter and I visited the home of a wonderful environmentally active woman. As I leaned down to take off my daughters shoes, I was met by the word "Rotenone" on a box by the door. I could only guess that she was using the toxic chemical in her garden and it was a real shock to me.

Then I began thinking of my own home and I was embarassed to realize that there were a few toxins stashed on my shelves as well. Sometimes it is easier to charge out and try to make the world a better place than to start small in your own home. Of course if we all make changes in our everyday lives it will make all the difference. I have learned that although it is extremely difficult to move a political body towards change, I have the power to enact change in my own home. It's not easy, but I do have that power. We all do.

The dolphins vanished this winter. I miss their merry little voices on the speaker as they argue and exclaim through the night. I am curious about where they went and when they'll be back. This is the advantage of a longterm study. If this was my only winter of study I wouldn't think dolphins frequented these waters. If I had spent only ten years here I would think they were always around in winter. Fifteen years of watching tells me that there are cycles. Thirty years from now I might have an inkling what drives those cycles.

There are still no spring salmon in these waters. They used to be here year round, and then show up in huge numbers in April. They follow the herring and eulachon to the heads of the inlets where the little fish spawn, and then the salmon follow them out again. The next wave of spring salmon appears in summer when the spawners enter the rivers. I am waiting, hopeful that this year spring salmon will return. We have not seen them since the salmon farms in Sutlej Channel put diseased Atlantic salmon in their pens. Just maybe, a few fish were immune to the deadly bacteria and survived to reproduce. Maybe they will return, and maybe they will bring the fish eating orca clans with them. Every year I am hopeful.

I viewed a study done by the provincial government on where salmon farms could be placed on this coast. I was horrified to see that they were positioned off of virtually every salmon bearing stream from here to Prince Rupert. Inconceivable madness. What can they be thinking? Who is thinking? Anybody?

Clearly some are thinking deeply about what their shareholders want. I am left questioning government and their meaning of the word "policy". Is it the distribution of the commons to the highest bidder? I think we are losing perspective. We are simply a mammal which needs prey as much as the whales and sea lions. Destroying what we feed on, such as the wild salmon of this coast, will harm us as much as it will harm other salmon predators. Granted we have more options, but there are fewer every year.

This coast still throbs with the cycles of life. If the political will existed we could see salmon return to historic levels. Imagine rivers so full of salmon their water levels rise as the fish swim upstream. Hold that thought, then clean the toxins off your kitchen shelves, sharpen a pencil, and raise your voice!