From the Archipelago: Winter Watch

February-March 2003

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

Wolf mask.

Speeding west through Fife Sound on steel-gray, calm water, I spotted what appeared to be a 'Scotchman' - a brilliant orange float used as a fender to keep boats from rubbing themselves raw against docks.

I veered towards this valuable bit of flotsam, but as I drew closer, it became clear the smooth pink globe was a pair of lungs! As the boat pulled abeam I could see intestines, stomach and the head of something dangling below. I kept going, thinking an orca might rise out of the depths to reclaim this high calorie, marine mammal snack. Drifting at a distance, I observed that all was still, so I scooped the carcass into my boat. There was just enough of the animal left to see it was a very large harbour porpoise, cut neatly in two. Typical of orca kills, the entrails had not been consumed and the blubber was stripped clean.

For anyone studying marine mammals, this find held a wealth of information. The porpoise had been feeding on herring and was so old that its teeth were worn almost to the gum line. I took and packaged samples for various other researchers and gave it back to the scavengers in need of this rare, rich, December meal.

The next day, a pod of transient orcas, perhaps the owners of the kill, came quietly through our area. They remained in stealth mode until they killed a harbour seal, and then called back and forth as the mother with youngsters was allowed sole access to the kill. Then they moved gently east, further into the inlets, to destinations unknown.

The dolphins have arrived in groups of hundreds, and this year there are lots of babies. It took over ten years for the mothers with young babies to come into the archipelago and now they are not only here, but allowing the babies to play with my boat.

The little fellows rocket about with astonishing speed. Most days are too rough and stormy for me to join them, but it's good to know they can make a living here again this winter. Their careless, noisy, fun-loving nature is evident as they race about, leaping in trios and quintets, but I know they are always on patrol for the whales that would eat them. And they are staging their play directly above the schools of pollock, herring and other fish species which sustain them. Their behaviour is not as random as it appears.

The chum salmon or 'dog' salmon, as they are known by many First Nations, came home in spectacular abundance this year. These fish went to sea before the fish farms' sea lice outbreak and thus were not affected, unlike the smaller pink salmon whose runs collapsed. These fish carried enough nutrients home to fill the stomachs of bears and make hibernation possible. Next year these salmon may not be as fortunate.

The verdict is in - the salmon farms have been found to be the most likely cause of the devastating sea lice epidemic which destroyed 98% of the pink salmon runs of the Broughton Archipelago. The salmon farmers have opted to take the low road and disregard the wise recommendation by senior fisheries scientists to fallow this entire archipelago.

An extraordinary alliance of commercial fishers, sport fishers, First Nations communities, tourism operators, environmentalists, scientists, lawyers, writers, filmmakers, and radio talk show hosts are coalescing to prevent destruction of the pink salmon, which are a vital life force for our coastal ecosystem.

In an effort to leave no stone unturned, my good friend Beatrice Smith from the nearby community of Kwicksutaineuk-Ah- Kwak-Ah-Mish, is guiding me in planning a healing ceremony for the last of the young pink salmon that will embark on their life's journey this spring.

"Make sure the fish farmers know they must come too," Bea told me, wisely pointing out that healing needs all sides to come together.

A timeless meld of love, pain, motherhood and leadership clads this woman as perfectly as the bark envelopes the cedar tree. She is solid ground for her community, which is trying to re-grow roots in a time of shifting quicksands.

I will do what Bea tells me. Her wisdom is plain as the snow-frosted mountains which embrace these inlets. Her power is as pure as the glacier melt water. Everything must be done to allow life on this earth to continue in the face of near demonic greed.

© Text and photo by Alexandra Morton (R.P.Bio). She is a marine mammal scientist and author in British Columbia's Broughton Archipelago.Visit her website at:. www.raincoastresearch.org