Showing posts with label Canada. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Canada. Show all posts

Thursday, 11 June 2020

The World's Greatest Alarm Clock: An audio experience transporting you to the home of the Northern resident orca

by Megan Hockin-Bennett 


Introduction by Sam Lipman:
Megan observing orca at OrcaLab
Megan Hockin-Bennett, talented wildlife videographer and founder of Wild Sky Productions, has spent eight years studying the Northern resident orca with OrcaLab in Vancouver, Canada. Using a network of underwater hydrophones and cameras, alongside land-based identification, Megan assists the station in conducting its vital research, increasing insight into the lives of the unique Northern resident community (as well as working to help wild-captured Northern resident orca Corky). 

For Orca Month, Megan has crafted her knowledge, experiences and orca recordings into a special encounter that brings the orca to you...

In this magical audio experience, Megan invites you to spend a peaceful moment with her on the shores of the Johnstone Strait, listening to the haunting calls of the orca families who inhabit it. You will walk (or float) away feeling relaxed, educated and refreshed. 

So take a break, get comfortable, close your eyes - or turn on OrcaLab's live cameras to try and catch a glimpse of the orca - and let yourself be transported to the home of the Northern residents. 

We hope you enjoy! 






Male transient orca T019B / Galliano passes Megan at OrcaLab

For more of Megan's videos, visit Wild Sky Productions.

You can also head over to OrcaLab to learn more about the Northern resident orca, staying up-to-date through its Facebook and Instagram pages. 

Keep spreading the word about how to help care for, protect and conserve our world's orca during (and after) Orca Month.

And if you spot any orca on OrcaLab's live cameras, let us know - happy orca watching! 



Saturday, 12 August 2017

Living with Orca: My summer as an OrcaLab volunteer

by Suzie Hall

On the 16 July 2017, I finally saw my first orca after 24 years of waiting. It was a magical moment when the T090s (Bigg's orca, otherwise known as transients) silently swept into Blackney Pass from the south, and travelled past the Lab. To be researching orca in the breath-taking surroundings of British Columbia, Canada is a dream come true: Here’s my account of what life is like here at OrcaLab.

Orcas passing by OrcaLab © OrcaLab

It’s been three weeks since I arrived on the woodland shores of Hanson Island, and I still can’t quite believe that I’m here. From the moment I stepped off the boat and onto the rocky slopes outside the Lab, I could tell that this place was quickly going to feel like home. The Lab and surrounding out-buildings are constructed solely from the wood around. It sits on a rocky outcrop, with a wide view of Blackney Pass, which is nestled neatly in the bay and is great for observing passing wildlife.

A humpback whale in Blackney Pass © OrcaLab
My first week was quiet on the orca front, so we primarily focused on the humpback whales, which are an almost daily guarantee. This gave me a good chance to get acquainted with the procedures in the Lab and the runnings of the camp.

The camp is completely off-grid. We use primarily solar power (with a generator if needed on cloudy days). There is a huge amount of energy required to power all of the equipment, so we use gas for cooking, natural fires for heating, and switch off all electrical equipment that’s not in use. The camp is full of everything you’d need to comfortably live in the wilderness, although perhaps a little more rudimentary than you might be used to.

Our kitchen is outdoors with a mismatch collection of utensils fit for all culinary creations. We only get groceries when someone is in Alert Bay (the nearest town on a neighbouring island), once every week or two, so it’s important to learn the art of proper meal planning. Generally, I live off of granola, eggs and peanut butter during the day, with Paul and Helena generously providing our evening meals, (which are absolutely delicious!).

The “outhouse” (or toilet) is an open shack in the woods, which takes a while to get used to. The only unnerving moments are when it’s pitch-black and there’s a pair of large, yellow eyes staring back at you from the trees. In that circumstance: Make it quick and hope it’s just a deer!
The OrcaLab kitchen

There’s a limited amount of fresh water (drawn from a nearby creek) that we primarily save for cooking and drinking. This means that everyone gets a warm shower about once a week, and the rest of the time we use the ocean. It’s a lot colder than I was expecting (around 7 degrees Celsius) and you really have to force yourself to stay in so you reach that “comfortably numb” stage and the pain disappears! The whole experience is really quite exhilarating. Post-swim, if you’ve been organised, you can warm up in the heated seawater bathtub on the rocks, the sauna in the bath-house, or with a cup of tea snuggled in your sleeping bag.

Work here never stops. It takes a monumental effort to keep things running smoothly and Paul, Helena and the volunteers do a fantastic job. Every day there’s wood to be chopped, food to prepare, a garden to maintain, repairs to make, boat trips to the cameras and hydrophones, guests to accommodate - and much more. All assistants pitch in and you soon recognise what needs to be done and when.

Enjoying a heated seawater bath
In the rare moments when we have some free time, we still have lots we can keep ourselves busy with. Hanson Island is beautiful and has many trails and views to explore. We go on hikes, walks, runs (okay, I’ve run once and maybe I’ll try it again…) and swims to the many points of interest that
the island has to offer. The island is very occasionally visited by wolves, bears and cougars - it's safe to say we would all love to encounter these animals (from a safe distance, of course!).

We monitor the hydrophones 24/7, which means that there is always someone in the Lab itself. We try to split the shifts so that everyone works an equal number of days and nights. In this way, sleeping patterns can vary. As someone notoriously known as “Snooze”, this has been quite an adjustment for me, but I’m definitely getting into the swing of it three weeks in. I enjoy the variety of early mornings and late nights, and it’s given me a real appreciation for my cosy tent and sleeping bag, which feels like a luxury after being awake all night!

Monitoring the hydrophones
And when you're not in the Lab, you can often hear the orca through speakers located throughout the camp. My favourite part of the whole experience is waking up in my tent to the sounds of orca calling through the trees: It is simply magical.

The Lab is an impressive feat; built up over the past four decades, it’s every techy's dream. There are currently six working hydrophones covering an area of approximately 50km square between Queen Charlotte Strait and Johnstone Strait. This is a particular “hotspot” for the orcas in the summer months, which means that, once the orca show up, there’s never a dull moment! We live-stream the acoustic data to www.orca-live.net and the video from the network of cameras that can be viewed at www.explore.org.

When an orca call is heard, we try to isolate the location of the individual(s) by using a mixer, which feeds all six signals from the hydrophones to our speakers. By keeping the channel from the hydrophone that the calls are likely on in the 'centre' position of the mixer, and the others on the 'left' and 'right', we can acoustically map the position of the orca as they pass through the network.

During the daytime, there are two people on shift. One in the Lab and one on the deck as a lookout. As soon as orca are seen in the Pass, the cry of “OORRRCCCAAAA!” echoes through the camp and everyone drops what they’re doing and rushes to the deck. Goodness, do the orca keep us busy! We have people on the telescopes to map their location, count them and identify who they are. We have people on both still and video cameras recording footage, and another updating our various social media pages. Inside the Lab, there is always somebody following the orca acoustically, noting everything that can be heard. And two people operate the network of cameras so that the world can watch the orca on the explore.org live-stream.

The Northern resident A30s and I15s passing by © OrcaLab

In the past week, the orca have been appearing more frequently, with more and more groups entering the area. So far, we have sighted a few matrilines from the A and G clans of the Northern resident population: the most prevalent being the A30s. The difference between the vocal dialects of the different orca pods is fascinating, and it’s astounding to watch Paul, Helena and the more experienced volunteers identify a group from just a single call.

  
The volunteers © Karien Bergmans
There sure is a lot I still have to learn but one thing is for certain: I absolutely love it here. The team is wonderful and it already feel like I am part of the OrcaLab family. My fellow volunteers are from different parts of the globe and walks of life, but we all have one thing in common: A passion for nature, conservation and, obviously, orca! Paul and Helena’s generosity knows no bounds and it’s clear that they have such a heart for what they do. To be able to contribute to their efforts and the protection of this beautiful population of orca is a truly humbling experience. Bring on the next two months!


Keep an eye out for my future blog, where I will be bringing you a "who-is-who" guide to the individuals, matrilines and clans which make up the Northern resident orca population. And in the meantime, to learn more about OrcaLab and its history, read my interview with Dr. Paul Spong here.

Unless otherwise credited, all photos © Suzie Hall. 

Sunday, 16 July 2017

A Summer of Research at OrcaLab

by Suzie Hall

Ever since I can remember, I’ve wanted to work with orcas. Admittedly, my childhood dream was to ride around on the back of my orca best friend in a very ‘Free Willy’-esque fashion, but as I’ve grown older the dream has been reworked into something more realistic. Over the years, there has been more and more evidence to show that keeping orcas in captivity causes them physical and psychological damage. Whilst the debate between experts and the industry still rages, and marine parks either move forward or continue to defend their decision to keep captive orcas, my mind is set: These creatures should be kept out of tanks and free to hunt, travel and socialise in the wild. That’s where the research should be done, and that’s what I want to do.

Over the past few years I’ve crammed in as many qualifications, courses and lectures as I can manage in an attempt to make myself useful within the world of orca research and conservation. I have still never seen an orca in the flesh, which is becoming a bit embarrassing given my not-so-subtle obsession.


Five months ago, I received an email from Dr. Paul Spong and his wife, Helena Symonds, inviting me to visit their research station, OrcaLab, off the coast of British Colombia, Canada. To say I was excited is an understatement, (I was so excited I managed to tell everyone I was going to visit without actually emailing back to accept their offer!). And now I am finally beginning my mega journey from the UK to the northern coast of Vancouver Island – a 72+ hour journey. 

So what does one need to pack for a summer of orca research?

Due to a stellar effort by myself, my family and the Internet, I’m now confident that I have everything I need…
 
-              Binoculars? Check.
-              Camera? Check.
-              Sleeping bag? Check.
-              Clothes for sunshine and torrential downpours? Check.
-              Mini cafetière to keep the morning monster at bay? Ch- Ah. Forgot that one.

In addition to my giant backpack, (which has its own mini backpack), I’m also transporting all 20kgs of my SCUBA diving kit to the island to assist with maintenance of the underwater cameras and microphones. In hindsight, attempting to carry 40kgs of luggage on a three-day journey, complete with a long-haul flight, an overnight stay in a hostel, a ten-hour bus journey and two ferry crossings may have been slightly optimistic… But it’s too late now. Let’s hope someone on the team is a trained masseuse. 

OrcaLab is situated on Hanson Island, a largely uninhabited island off the north-eastern coast of Vancouver Island. Over the summer months, Paul, Helena and their team monitor the Northern resident orcas that inhabit the area, along with the humpback whales that also frequent the Straits. The transient (or ‘Biggs’) orcas are also studied as they often make an appearance in the area to predate on smaller mammals. The lab includes a network of hydrophones (underwater microphones) covering about 50km of the orcas' habitat, which collect acoustic data and photographic images 24 hours a day.

And OrcaLab is completely off-grid: powered by solar panels and generators. This means that any luxuries are few-and-far between; we’ll be travelling to the nearest town (Alert Bay, on a neighbouring island) every 1-2 weeks for food and laundry.

Photo © Max Woodman
OrcaLab is a unique research station and the work it conducts is essential for the preservation of orcas and other marine wildlife. For me, this is the experience of a lifetime and, I hope, the first of many orca-related projects. I cannot think of a better place to see my first orcas than among the verdant islands of British Colombia, and I hope that I will prove myself useful to the research at OrcaLab. I would also love to see orca ‘Springer’ who is part of the Northern resident community, as she is the first orca I adopted at the tender age of nine. Springer has also just been spotted with her second calf following her release back into the wild fifteen years ago, after she was rescued.


Over the next few months I will be sharing my experience of OrcaLab, the orcas and the beautiful coast of British Colombia - so stay tuned!

For a short history of OrcaLab and its research, please read our interview with Dr. Paul Spong.

Friday, 21 June 2013

See No Orca, Love No Orca?

by Naomi Mitchell (guest blogger) 

I had never seen an orca in the flesh until last summer. In search of whales, wilderness and escape, I spent a blissful 4 months on the west coast of British Columbia, where I found all three. But my passion for killer whales started many years ago...

At age 7, I watched a well known and much-loved film about a captive killer whale who is given back his freedom. Captivated by their intelligence and thrilled by the excitement of the film, I instantly fell in love with these majestic black and white giants! Fast forward 10 years and I was to be found training to be a Marine Mammal Medic with British Divers Marine Life Rescue, hoping that it would give me some more insight into the mysterious lives of marine mammals. It is hard to put into words how, but despite having still never seen a live whale or dolphin in my life, they had managed to steal my heart and capture my imagination. At this point, I probably would have jumped at any chance to see these animals, be it in the wild or captivity.

Northern Resident orca from the A30 matriline (Photo © Naomi Mitchell)

Several years later, studying Animal Behaviour Science at university, I took every opportunity to bring marine mammals into my coursework even though my degree focused mainly on domestic animals. When I was finally offered the chance to swim with captive dolphins in Dubai for my birthday I already had an uneasy feeling - and a little further research quickly made me realise that this wasn't the most amazing birthday present ever. It was probably the worst. And having realised this in time, I didn't do it. But I did do more and more research into the subject and it soon became clear to me that all cetaceans - and especially killer whales - should not be kept in captivity. I will always remember finding the minimum tank size requirements for the first time and after a few calculations deciding that it is equivalent to a human living in a small touring caravan, unable to leave, for the rest of their life. When you realise that wild cetaceans can swim vast distances in relatively short time periods, it is blindingly obvious that this is inhumane.

A year after graduating from university, a number of significant changes in my life led me to pursue the dream that had been lurking in the back of my mind for some time. So I booked flights, packed my bag and headed to Quadra Island, a small island nestled between mainland British Columbia and Vancouver Island, Canada. Just a matter of hours after arriving I had my first encounter with killer whales. A group of three Southern Resident pods took a route coming down the inside of Vancouver Island and right past Quadra. If I had loved and wanted to see killer whales before I arrived in Canada, it was nothing compared to how I felt after I saw them for the first time. I might have already ticked off number 1 on my 'to do' list, but I was hooked and I absolutely couldn't wait to see the whales again. Next time I vowed not to forget to pick up my binoculars in the rush!

Southern residents, Quadra Island (Photo © Naomi Mitchell) 

I did have to wait a few more weeks for my next encounter, but these weeks were filled with wonderful experiences and sightings of black bears, seals, sea otters, Pacific white-sided dolphins and humpback whales! And so those weeks flew by until one evening, camped on a beach on Hansen Island, looking out over the Johnstone Strait, I watched the first of the Northern Residents who had returned to the area for the summer. Over the next couple of months I was lucky enough to have some close-up encounters with several pods of Northern Residents, watching them from campsites, from boats and even from a kayak and listening to their fascinating calls on a hydrophone. Although just as magnificent in their own way, they seemed somewhat more reserved that the Southern residents who I saw engaging in more lively behaviours such as breaching and tail slapping. I was also lucky enough to see the more elusive transient killer whales on one occasion. Each encounter was thrilling in it's own way, but my favourite was when a young Northern resident decided to change course and headed towards our boat to investigate, passing right underneath!


Northern Resident orca viewed from West Cracroft Island, British Columbia 
(Photo © Naomi Mitchell)

Part of the magic was meeting other people from across the world who held the same dream as me: to see wild killer whales. There is nothing like the thrill of hearing a blow in the distance, and sharing the excitement of those around you makes it even more special. I think that my own experiences, and those of the other people that I met go to show that you do not need to see these animals in the flesh to love them and want to protect them - we all already knew that they were special or we would not have made the journey to witness this for real. My experiences with orca have been amazing and I have been incredibly lucky to see them. Seeing them in the wild confirmed what I always suspected about these magnificent animals, but my love for them has always been there.


Transient orca (Photo © Naomi Mitchell)