Keeping Count in the Pacific

In one of the world’s richest aquatic ecosystems, researcher Rob Williams is putting a number on British Columbia’s marine mammals

I wake at 6 a.m. to the disembodied voice of Dr. Rob Williams, Canadian marine mammal scientist, project leader and Explorers Club fellow. “Sighting 202! Humpies!”

I quickly take inventory—headache gone, stomach still knotted—and roll off the galley table that doubles as my bed. I drag my nauseated body up through the wheelhouse and onto the deck as Achiever’s engine growls. Outside, the early sky is overcast. Mountains of open ocean stretch to the horizon and the boat rocks mercilessly back and forth. Today we are crossing the Hecate Straight off B.C.’s central coast, an 11-hour journey across the fourth roughest body of water on earth.

I find the crew in the observation tower, a makeshift steel platform perched high atop the wheelhouse. Rob is here with two field assistants, Sonja and Olive, and all three are struggling to remain upright as the sea pitches beneath the boat. Over sleek rain-gear and all-weather fleece, each team member wears a chest harness of the sort usually reserved for rock climbers. The harnesses are looped through carabiners attached to the handrails, a necessary precaution in rough waters like these. Achiever rolls like a tin can in the drink and the wind is biting. This is a calm day for the Hecate.

“Morning, Mr. Writer,” yells Rob, without dropping his binoculars. “While you were snoozing, we were watching five humpback whales lunge-feeding 500 metres off the bow.” Rob smiles but keeps his eyes on the horizon. “How was your first night?”
Before I can respond, Olive drops her binoculars to her chest, points down at the water and screams.
“Shitballs!” she yells in classic Australian. “Minke whale! Ten metres off the starboard side!”
Far below, just a stone’s throw from the deck, a black, sickle-shaped dorsal fin slowly sinks into the sea. Olive spins the needle on the giant protractor mounted in front of her and points it at the animal. Rob radios the sighting below decks.

“Sighting 203! Minke whale outside your window!”
Sonja and Rob return their gaze to the horizon while Olive records the angle and distance of the minke into the log-book. A strange sort of energy—the field scientist’s equivalent to a jolt of caffeine—courses through the crew. The day has begun. The whales are slowly revealing themselves. This historic survey of marine mammals in British Columbian waters—of crucial importance and the first of its kind—is well under way.

Photos by Rob Williams

This entry was posted on Monday, September 20th, 2010 at 2:49 pm and is filed under Field Notes. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a comment, or trackback from your own site. Add to del.icio.us.