Porpoises and the Awe of Orcas

Last night was lovely as only a calm April evening with the full moon rising can be.

My friend Sherry and I crossed to Denman Island on the little ferry as we do once a month or so. Tonight we were looking forward to an evening with a group of wonderful women around the year's first campfire.

We met friends we hadn't seen in a while among the foot-passengers and we walked to the bow of the boat to chat with them.


As we talked we looked out over the water. There were seagulls in the air, but Harmony was sure she had spotted an eagle. As we looked, a movement below us caught Sherry's eye.

There were porpoises! A brief glimpse of fin and shiny grey back and the animal went under. Then rose up again. And then another one!

We squealed like children---the sight was fleeting but so unexpected and marvellous. It was a good omen. The inner shiver of joy seeing those sea creatures gave me lasted the entire evening.

It reminded me of another time.

Three autums ago, on my tenth wedding anniversary, Jeff and I were paddling in a two-seater kayak up by April Point on Quadra Island. The whole day long had been an exercise in feeling grateful we lived here on the coast of Vancouver Island. Sometimes you can live in a place all your life and forget that it is beautiful and special, but we were reminded today.

We drifted over forests of waving kelp lit by afternoon sunshine, watched the great blue herons fishing in the shallows, saw bald eagles soaring, and let our kayak slide noiselessly into a community of river otters playing and chattering among a group of rocks.

But the image that will stay with me forever from that day was of an orca whale.

We heard a sound---a sound I'd never heard before---a loud and breathy, blowing sound. We held our paddles still and stopped our kayak to listen.

Chii-CHOO! Chii-CHOO! Chii-CHOO! The sound travelled towards us at great speed. We looked around wildly for its source.

And then we saw the great black fin and the broad shiny back and the white eye-marking as the killer whale passed our fragile boat at the speed of a living torpedo. I remember my eyes widening in awe and my head swivelling to watch the whale's passage, but it was gone in an instant.

We paddled around in the bay hoping to see it again, but that one brief moment was all we had with the orca. I think the feeling of joy it gave us was a real gift.

I wish I had pictures to show you of that day but I left my camera at home--heh, the days before I carried one everywhere. I borrowed someone's photo of a killer whale to show you what we saw. Perhaps it was better that I was just there in the moment. The images from that afternoon are forever imprinted in my mind.