A most delightful paddle

On Mother’s Day, we set out to get a solid training paddle in. With just a few weeks until SEVENTY48, we wanted to increase our mileage a bit. It also seemed like a good time to make sure that our bodies remembered how to kayak for hours between breaks, and complete open water crossings. Our route encompassed six islands and a little more than 17 nmi. That’s a bit longer than a quarter of the race. It’s approximately what we try to tackle on Friday and Sunday. We also usually like to have at least one long training day that approximates what we’re trying to paddle on Saturday. That wasn’t in the cards this season.

Settling into the Miles

We launched from the Towhead Island Boat Launch near the Fox Island bridge. The water was smooth and inviting and harbor seals visited us as we made our way towards the spit. Continuing across Carr Inlet, we spotted harbor porpoises as we approached Pitt Passage. We proceeded to Eagle Island for our lunch break. We had the island to ourselves, and a stiff breeze combined with cloud cover kept us in a comfortable temperature range.

After lunch, we skirted McNeil island and headed for Gibson Point on Fox Island. The clouds cleared and the sun beat down on us. The air temperature was comfortable in our dry suits, but the solar radiation was intense. Luckily, that was short-lived, and a bit of cloud cover came back as we approached the island. Once we were in the shade created by the island’s bluffs, we were extremely comfortable.

As we approached the Fox Island Fishing Pier, we spotted a large dorsal fin – could that be orcas? As if to confirm for us, one of the orcas surfaced with a large blow and a large dorsal. They WERE orcas, and they were directly ahead of us, coming our way.

Melissa’s Perspective

Be Whale Wise

We did our best to follow the whale wise guidelines. In retrospect, that would have entailed rafting up and then not paddling anymore. But as dispersed as we were when we first saw the orcas, and as close as they were when we first spotted them, and as much adrenaline as we got when we realized what we were seeing… The only guidelines that really stuck in my mind were:

1. Stay 400m to 1,000m away (depending on the type). I had learned that 1,000m away basically means that the orca should look like it’s the size of my littlest fingernail. We were FAR closer than that when we first saw them.
2. Don’t be in their path.
3. Stop paddling.

These directives are somewhat in conflict with each other, if you’re surprised by a pod of orcas heading the opposite direction to your route around an island.

At the 2025 Wooden Boat Festival, I got to see a presentation from Cindy Hansen from Orca Network and The Orca Behavior Institute. She presented research that shows that orcas adjust their feeding behavior when boats are nearby. Even human-powered boats like kayaks. That information made me even more conscious of how my choices might impact animals in the wild. Unfortunately, that didn’t really help with our decision making. We knew we wanted to make the right choice to reduce stress on these orcas, but whether we should try to get out of their way or just stay where we were? That didn’t seem clear at the time.

Pause and Watch

So (even with our overly-excited brains), we decided to stop paddling and watch the orcas from where we were. They were headed pretty much directly at us. There was a pair in the front, one large male and a smaller female. From our perspective, they surfaced with Chambers Bay in the background. They would have made an exceptional marketing video for the golf course, if anyone had captured it in high def. I was too busy watching the whales to even think about getting my phone out for a photo or video. We hadn’t seen the other two for a bit, and it was getting difficult to look far enough over our shoulders to watch the first two. We radioed to each other to see if we thought it was time to resume paddling.

Not So Fast

As we were taking a final glance behind us, I was startled by the sound of a whale surfacing near the bow of my kayak. I quickly turned my attention forward. Not quickly enough to clearly see the whale that I had heard… But in plenty of time to see a large dorsal fin very close to the bow of our paddling partner’s kayak.

My mind was racing, and I was concerned that with the orcas so close and my paddle resting just inches off the water, we might have a collision. Orcas obviously know where my kayak is in the water. But can they tell that there’s an obstacle hovering just a few inches above the waterline? I didn’t know how much damage paddle versus dorsal fin would cause, but I didn’t want to find out… or lose my paddle in the process. I lifted my paddle over my head, to make sure that it was out of the way – both for the giant dorsal fin I could see and for any others that were about to surprise me.

With enormous wild animals that close, I get… really eloquent. I think I may have yelled, “Oh, boy. Okay. Whoa, Nelly,” and other such erudite exclamations. The dorsal fin glided down into the water. As I looked down, I saw the white markings of an orca belly swimming under my kayak. Did that just happen? Did those orcas just come over and check us out? We were much closer to the island than the path the other two orcas had taken. So curiosity seemed like a logical assumption as to why these two decided to come so close to our kayaks. Once they had passed, I added loud, possibly nervous-sounding laughter to my earlier vocals.

T137s

Travis was further mid-channel and was able to see the whales surface significantly behind our kayaks, so we resumed paddling. The pier had several folks sporting telephoto lenses – a relatively sure sign that seasoned whale watchers had been following sighting reports. I shouted up to find out if they knew which pod that was. We learned that we had just encountered the T137 Matriline.

I had wondered if the extremely large male might be Jack (T137A). I vaguely knew that he was a crowd favorite in the orca spotting groups I follow. We had initially assumed that the larger of the whales who came over to inspect us was also a male, since the dorsal fin seemed so large and straight. After looking at photos at home, I now think it was Loon (T137). She has a taller, straighter dorsal than either Tempest (T137B) or Wright (T137D), which explains why my untrained eye thought there were two males in the group.

Travis’ Perspective

As we made the crossing to Fox Island and we approached the fishing pier Melissa spotted dorsal fins of Orcas right next to the pier. Then two other Orcas surfaced about 150 yards to our right, I was able to get a picture of Jack, the male of T-137 matriline (I didn’t know it was Jack or T-137’s until afterwards).

I was turning back towards the pier to look for the other two Orca that had been there when one of them surfaced about 20 feet to my left, and about 20 feet in front of Melissa and our paddling partner. Then the second one (identified later as T-137 Loon) surfaced directly in front of them and dove as it went between their bows. They were approximately 15-20 feet apart and moved their paddles as the dorsal fin went by their cockpits because they were worried that it might hit them.

I tried to get that on video but wet gloves and touch screens made it impossible. Fortunately, I was able to get a post encounter video and took a screenshot of one of the orcas surfacing behind them.

I did joke to Melissa after the encounter that it looked like she was surrendering to the orca when she lifted her paddle above her head.

Finishing Our Loop

Now fully awake with adrenaline pumping through our veins we continued on towards the Fox Island Bridge. Shortly after passing the fishing pier we saw a sea lion. We thought it was pretty brave to be out swimming so soon after the orca had gone by. A little farther on a bald eagle passed overhead heading back to Fox Island from Gig Harbor.

As we started the last mile of our paddle, clouds rolled in and treated us to large raindrops. The drops became a cloud burst. At one point, the rain was so loud (on our hats, our drysuits, and our kayaks) that we had to pause our conversation. Luckily, it mostly cleared up as we landed. Earlier in the day, we were too hot in the sun. And we still had a bit of adrenaline. So paddling in a rain squall was a perfect ending to our 17NM journey.