Orcas at last!

There has been quite a lot happening lately- fixing kayaks, running inventory on all the gear, and my personal trip back home for a wedding, but I'll jump right into the good stuff...

On Thursday my meadow-mate and fellow guide (Sam) and I led a day trip departing from Smallpox Bay and headed south towards Deadman’s Bay. If you can’t tell by the names of our coastal features, the previous island inhabitants had a rough go of things over the years. Anyhow, the sun started to emerge from the clouds right as we launched, a good omen since it had been rainy and gray the previous few days. We paddled out with our group of 13 guests and rounded the first of many points, enjoying the red sea urchins juxtaposed against the rocks down below. We wove in and out of the embayments, admiring the bald eagle nests to our left and Pigeon Guillemots to our right. The trip was going off without a hitch. As we were just about to round the next point of Lime Kiln State Park, however, one of the younger guys in the group shouted, “Hey guys! What was that out there?” We all turned to look in the direction he was pointing. Nothing. I assumed he had just seen a piece of driftwood or something, as our guests commonly do and had mistook it for a porpoise. Then, BAM, a beautiful splash caused by a breaching orca whale caught all of our attention! J-pod was cruising right past us!! My first orca sighting of the season! I was beyond excited- probably more excited than the guests, actually.

CWR

I felt like I was exactly where I needed to be in that moment: in my kayak, floating on my beloved and mysterious ocean, and admiring this animal that has brought so much fantasy and wonder to my dreams over the years. They dipped in and out of the water, their blows clearly audible as they sipped the sweet air that we breathe subconsciously but is a constant reminder to them of their terrestrial past in evolutionary history. Some jumped completely out of the water, rolled to their sides, and let gravity bring them back to their aquatic home creating a huge white splash visible from great distances. At one point, a mother brought her calf within about 150 yards of us, showing him off as they broke the surface of the water. Rafted up, kayak hooked to kayak, we drifted happily admiring Mother Nature’s finest. It was a beautiful moment and I cannot believe that it was just the first of many this summer.

I'll get better at taking pictures so that you can see the whale
without a giant arrow pointing to it, I promise.

To top it off a great day, some of the guides and I gathered on the cliffs of Lime Kiln State Park (the first park established for the purpose of whale watching) at sunset. Some came with ice cream, some with wine (okay… I’m the one that brought wine obviously), and we laughed and were glad for the bonds we’ve created in such a short amount of time together. The sun descended over Vancouver Island to the west of us and harbor porpoises bobbed along the eddy lines in a motion as consistent as the setting sun itself.

With so much happening, it’s hard for me to keep track of my thoughts and emotions here. But this morning, I woke up to find that a spider had created a web in the corner of my tent, just above my head. I blinked my eyes open and watched as he sat, so patient and calm. A few minutes went by before a small little fly had flown into the mercy of his trap. The spider was poised and ready and did not hesitate a second to scramble to the fly and quickly wind him in more of his silk to carry him back to his resting place for consumption. It was perfect. The spider was doing these things because he was made to. His ancestors and arachnids before him had so carved this niche and natural selection had worked in such a way so that this spider could catch that fly. And I know that this may be a very dreamy way to think of something so insignificant and I know people who would argue with me, but the truth is that I feel like I was created to do what I am doing. Maybe not to be a kayak guide necessarily, but to be a strong and persistent voice for the ocean that I love so deeply. My heart dips beneath the surface and rises again in time with the orcas that I saw. It celebrates each release of kelp spores. It laughs with the Laughing Gulls. Though there has been quite a learning curve in this leg of my journey through life, I know that every moment is an opportunity to grow. Sometimes it looks messy but it’s never going to stop. The currents may pull us offshore a little too far, but that’s okay. There are deeper waters out there and that’s what we need to explore.