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The Migrants' WayBy Margaret Deefholts
Binoculars in hand, cameras at the ready, we watch as the denizens of the rocks—a cluster of California sea-lions—disport themselves on this cloudy late April morning. A few of them slip languidly into the water and, flippers in the air, do a couple of show turns for us. At our approach, a venerable old sea-dog, his coat paler than the deep brown ones worn by the others, flip-flops his way across the rocks to give us the once-over. He has liquid brown eyes but his honk is plaintive. “Okay folks, nice to say hi, but back off a bit willya? That boat is noisy on a gentle day like this.” We stay at a respectful distance.
Dr. Mary Taitt, a naturalist, accompanies us on the trip. The Fraser River is on the Pacific flyway and she estimates that roughly five million birds comprising about 300 different species flock through here annually on their migratory route from South America to the Arctic. Point Roberts, a short half-hour’s boat ride away from Steveston, plays host to blue heron rookeries and snow geese settle and feed on the sand-banks and mud-flats at the mouth of the Fraser in the winter. On our outward journey, we pass two bald eagles. “You can tell that they’re young birds,” says Mary as we raise our binoculars, “They haven’t yet developed white feathers on their tails and heads.” She goes on to tell us that bald eagles (“bald” being an abbreviation of “piebald”) have a life span of about 20 years, mate for life and build rather extraordinary nests. “They keep adding to them all year round,” she says, “and they can weigh up to a ton. In fact, I heard somewhere that a two ton nest, which set something of a record, eventually collapsed under its own weight!”
As we return to Steveston, the sun breaks through, turning the water into a sheet of crinkled silver foil. I’m regretful that there isn’t time to visit the nearby Harbour seal colony too, but that’s the best of all reasons to make another trip later in the summer. And also to ride a 47-seater Zodiac out of the harbour to attend the annual pageant of Orca whales rolling in stately procession through our B.C. coastal waters.
In addition to the Orca watching expedition (which runs from mid May to October) Vancouver Whale Watchers runs several one-to-two hour marine tours daily from Steveston Harbour, aboard their custom-designed Zodiacs—ideal for wildlife viewing—all of them equipped with the latest in navigation and communication equipment. They are also a thrill to ride! Contact information:Vancouver Whale Watch e-mail:
info@vancouverwhalewatch.com Images: Courtesy Vancouver Whale Watchers and Margaret Deefholts |
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TM
It
is difficult to tell whether the whiskered group lolling in the soft morning
light, welcomes our arrival or not. Some look bored, others ignore us, and
the biggest of the lot (a 300-pounder) sits disdainfully with his snoot up
in the air. Contemplating life on the rocks, maybe. Or thinking wistfully of
his favourite wife back home. After all, he and the other guys here have
been away all winter, and even the best of bachelor parties tend to grow
wearisome after six months.
Like
the rest of us on the 8-seater Zodiac boat, I am thrilled to discover that
Vancouverites don’t need to travel far to meet these sleek visitors to our
shores. In fact, it’s only a 25 minute boat ride off the Steveston docks.
And sea-lions aren’t the only star performers along the route. Bald eagles
perch, majestic and aloof, atop old pilings and white-wing scoters
(sea-ducks) skiff like freckles across the surface of the water. Depending
upon the route, great blue herons, water-fowl, osprey, harriers and
cormorants, all emerge from the wings (in a manner of speaking!) to take
centre stage. In early summer, the passing parade also includes Orca
(killer) whales which take a bow as they cruise past the mouth of the Fraser
River.
Now,
as we watch the California sea lions, Mary fills us in about their habits
and behaviour. “They are migratory,” she explains, “and at this time of the
year the males come here to feast off the oolichan shoals.” Polygamous and
virile, a healthy male returns to his coterie of wives off the coast of
California, in early summer, where he loses no time impregnating up to
twenty cows each season. The pups, (only a single offspring per female)
aren’t natural swimmers, and have to take lessons from Mom. These sea-lion
rookeries are rowdy, what with Mom returning home with supper from the ocean
and trumpeting to locate Junior among several bleating pups, and Dad barking
incessantly in defence of his harem and offspring.