Frederick Sound, The Brothers
Our day began with a crowd of Steller sea lions on Yasha Island bickering, roaring and harassing each other as they do in everyday life. Yasha is situated at the junction of Chatham Strait and Frederick Sound, a rich environment for marine life and precisely the reason we chose to wake up here. Little did we know of the drama to follow later in the morning. During the morning we performed our safety drills, listened to briefings, and had an outstanding presentation from Kim Heacox of National Geographic. As if on cue when the lights went up, the action began. Called to the outer decks, we found ourselves in the midst of a life or death drama in the undersea world of marine mammals.
Through contact with the Alaska Whale Foundation by radio, the bridge had been informed of a pod of killer whales nearby, travelling in our direction. During the presentation, the Sea Bird had quietly come up to a family of Orca/killer whales, who by coincidence had at that very moment “happened” upon a large Steller sea lion. Within minutes the sea lion was caught, trapped and became food for the two very young killer whales in the group. The adults seemed content enough to allow them the spoils of the hunt, and kept their distance until the sea lion was no more. As if that wasn’t enough, a female humpback and calf cruising in the neighborhood became the next center of attention. There was tension mixed with excitement on the bow for a long time as we watched and wondered what would happen. The killer whales made numerous attempts to reach the young humpback. Being more numerous, they could surround and lunge from multiple directions, and for a while seemed to be gaining the upper hand. Much activity was seen on the surface, with humpback tail and flukes thrashing with force against the attacking Orcas. It caught us all by surprise when suddenly we realized the female humpback whale was no longer by herself in defending her offspring. Another large, adult humpback had joined ranks. Now the young humpback had an adult on either side, and the strategy seemed effective. For long moments, the three remained at the surface, their blows containing an auditory element indicative of stress. The killer whales circled the trio, their unmistakable dorsal fins and coloration in close proximity to humpback blowholes, backs, pectoral fins and tail flukes.
The end was almost as abrupt as the beginning. Within seconds, all that was left were the two adult humpbacks shoulder to shoulder with the calf, all of them breathing rapidly at the surface. We waited, but the pod of killer whales had given up and moved on. We moved on also.
Our day began with a crowd of Steller sea lions on Yasha Island bickering, roaring and harassing each other as they do in everyday life. Yasha is situated at the junction of Chatham Strait and Frederick Sound, a rich environment for marine life and precisely the reason we chose to wake up here. Little did we know of the drama to follow later in the morning. During the morning we performed our safety drills, listened to briefings, and had an outstanding presentation from Kim Heacox of National Geographic. As if on cue when the lights went up, the action began. Called to the outer decks, we found ourselves in the midst of a life or death drama in the undersea world of marine mammals.
Through contact with the Alaska Whale Foundation by radio, the bridge had been informed of a pod of killer whales nearby, travelling in our direction. During the presentation, the Sea Bird had quietly come up to a family of Orca/killer whales, who by coincidence had at that very moment “happened” upon a large Steller sea lion. Within minutes the sea lion was caught, trapped and became food for the two very young killer whales in the group. The adults seemed content enough to allow them the spoils of the hunt, and kept their distance until the sea lion was no more. As if that wasn’t enough, a female humpback and calf cruising in the neighborhood became the next center of attention. There was tension mixed with excitement on the bow for a long time as we watched and wondered what would happen. The killer whales made numerous attempts to reach the young humpback. Being more numerous, they could surround and lunge from multiple directions, and for a while seemed to be gaining the upper hand. Much activity was seen on the surface, with humpback tail and flukes thrashing with force against the attacking Orcas. It caught us all by surprise when suddenly we realized the female humpback whale was no longer by herself in defending her offspring. Another large, adult humpback had joined ranks. Now the young humpback had an adult on either side, and the strategy seemed effective. For long moments, the three remained at the surface, their blows containing an auditory element indicative of stress. The killer whales circled the trio, their unmistakable dorsal fins and coloration in close proximity to humpback blowholes, backs, pectoral fins and tail flukes.
The end was almost as abrupt as the beginning. Within seconds, all that was left were the two adult humpbacks shoulder to shoulder with the calf, all of them breathing rapidly at the surface. We waited, but the pod of killer whales had given up and moved on. We moved on also.
