alexsidles
Paddler
The gray whale spring migration is underway. From February through May, gray whales will be passing through our region en route from their winter calving grounds in Baja California to their summer foraging habitat in Alaska’s Bering and Chukchi Seas.
Most gray whales migrate along the outer coast. You can hike out to Shi Shi or Rialto in Olympic National Park on any given day during the season and see any number of gray whales right off the beach. These individuals typically only pause to forage for a day or two before resuming their northward journeys.
However, there is also a population of a dozen or so “Sounders,” so called because these gray whales divert into Puget Sound each year and spend the spring months foraging for bottom-dwelling ghost shrimp. Unlike the coastal individuals, the Sounders linger for weeks for months, although they do eventually join the rest of the gray whales in Alaska. Many of the same individual Sounders have been coming to our waters each spring for 25 years or more and have become well known and much beloved by us locals.
Since February, the Orca Network has been reporting Sounders every day in Possession Sound, the body of water between Everett and Whidbey Island, as well as Port Susan, the body of water between Camano Island and the mainland. I decided to take an overnight trip down across Possession Sound and down to Possession Point State Park to try to find the whales.
After much deliberation, I decided to launch at Port of Everett, even though this is near the southern limit of the Sounders’ preferred foraging grounds. Launch sites farther north were either too far (Kayak Point), too inconvenient to reach (Langley), or closed to outsiders (Tulalip). To extend my time in the prime whale-watching waters, I first paddled north along Jetty Island to the line of sunken wooden ships outside the river mouth, then across to Hat Island.
00 Route map. This itinerary could also be done as a day trip out of Mukilteo.
01 Launch at Port Everett. Even inside Jetty Island, the currents were stronger than I expected.
02 Harbor seal near Jetty Island. Possession Sound was full of harbor seals and California sea lions, plus a few Stellar's sea lions.
03 Snow geese over Possession Sound. These beautiful birds will soon head north to breed.
04 Through the wooden ships. These remarkable old relics were sunk at the mouth of the Snohomish River to serve as a breakwater.
05 Crossing Possession Sound. There's no place like the Pacific Northwest in spring.
I kept my eyes peeled for spouts all the way across Possession Sound, but by the time I reached Hat Island, I still had not seen any. Only rarely do the Sounders go further south than Everett, so I figured I had missed them and would just have to try my luck the following day. Just as I was altering course to head in earnest toward Possession Point, I looked over my shoulder and spotted the whale-watching boat San Juan Clipper idling in the bay. A throng of tourists packed the decks, so I knew they were watching something. Soon enough, I saw two spouts in rapid succession. They were larger than orca spouts but smaller than humpbacks. It was two gray whales!
06 Gray whale spouting at Hat Island. The whale's breath sounded like a wave hitting a pebble beach.
07 Gray whale surfacing. Grays take a leisurely approach to life.
08 Gray whale diving. These grays tended to expose less of their bodies than humpbacks do.
09 Gray whale and Mount Baker. Washington State still feels like wilderness sometimes.
One of the whales swam about a mile south of Hat Island. I paddled over and spent a wonderful half hour in its company. Every couple minutes, it would bob to the surface and emit a deep, whooshing breath, linger for a few seconds, then dive again. In such shallow waters, the whale did not need to breathe deeply or stay underwater long, so the surface intervals tended to be brief but frequent.
The gray whale was not as energetic as an orca, nor were its dives as splashy as a humpback’s, but what distinguished this animal was its beautiful, mottled skin. The gray and white spots on the whale’s back reminded me of the barnacle-speckled stones that cover most of our beaches, as if the whale’s body had evolved to mimic its surroundings.
CONTINUED IN NEXT POST
Most gray whales migrate along the outer coast. You can hike out to Shi Shi or Rialto in Olympic National Park on any given day during the season and see any number of gray whales right off the beach. These individuals typically only pause to forage for a day or two before resuming their northward journeys.
However, there is also a population of a dozen or so “Sounders,” so called because these gray whales divert into Puget Sound each year and spend the spring months foraging for bottom-dwelling ghost shrimp. Unlike the coastal individuals, the Sounders linger for weeks for months, although they do eventually join the rest of the gray whales in Alaska. Many of the same individual Sounders have been coming to our waters each spring for 25 years or more and have become well known and much beloved by us locals.
Since February, the Orca Network has been reporting Sounders every day in Possession Sound, the body of water between Everett and Whidbey Island, as well as Port Susan, the body of water between Camano Island and the mainland. I decided to take an overnight trip down across Possession Sound and down to Possession Point State Park to try to find the whales.
After much deliberation, I decided to launch at Port of Everett, even though this is near the southern limit of the Sounders’ preferred foraging grounds. Launch sites farther north were either too far (Kayak Point), too inconvenient to reach (Langley), or closed to outsiders (Tulalip). To extend my time in the prime whale-watching waters, I first paddled north along Jetty Island to the line of sunken wooden ships outside the river mouth, then across to Hat Island.
00 Route map. This itinerary could also be done as a day trip out of Mukilteo.
01 Launch at Port Everett. Even inside Jetty Island, the currents were stronger than I expected.
02 Harbor seal near Jetty Island. Possession Sound was full of harbor seals and California sea lions, plus a few Stellar's sea lions.
03 Snow geese over Possession Sound. These beautiful birds will soon head north to breed.
04 Through the wooden ships. These remarkable old relics were sunk at the mouth of the Snohomish River to serve as a breakwater.
05 Crossing Possession Sound. There's no place like the Pacific Northwest in spring.
I kept my eyes peeled for spouts all the way across Possession Sound, but by the time I reached Hat Island, I still had not seen any. Only rarely do the Sounders go further south than Everett, so I figured I had missed them and would just have to try my luck the following day. Just as I was altering course to head in earnest toward Possession Point, I looked over my shoulder and spotted the whale-watching boat San Juan Clipper idling in the bay. A throng of tourists packed the decks, so I knew they were watching something. Soon enough, I saw two spouts in rapid succession. They were larger than orca spouts but smaller than humpbacks. It was two gray whales!
06 Gray whale spouting at Hat Island. The whale's breath sounded like a wave hitting a pebble beach.
07 Gray whale surfacing. Grays take a leisurely approach to life.
08 Gray whale diving. These grays tended to expose less of their bodies than humpbacks do.
09 Gray whale and Mount Baker. Washington State still feels like wilderness sometimes.
One of the whales swam about a mile south of Hat Island. I paddled over and spent a wonderful half hour in its company. Every couple minutes, it would bob to the surface and emit a deep, whooshing breath, linger for a few seconds, then dive again. In such shallow waters, the whale did not need to breathe deeply or stay underwater long, so the surface intervals tended to be brief but frequent.
The gray whale was not as energetic as an orca, nor were its dives as splashy as a humpback’s, but what distinguished this animal was its beautiful, mottled skin. The gray and white spots on the whale’s back reminded me of the barnacle-speckled stones that cover most of our beaches, as if the whale’s body had evolved to mimic its surroundings.
CONTINUED IN NEXT POST
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