In Search of Orcas - Part 2

30.09.2023

I had a decision to make. As I shared in a previous post, my otherwise quite enjoyable whale-watching cruise had failed to check the one box that would have ruled them all. No Orcas. The next day the Salish Sea was socked in by fog, so I canceled my planned daytrip by ferry to Friday Harbor on San Juan Island. Doing so had been especially disappointing because it meant giving up on one more chance to see Orcas. San Juan Island is famous for Orca sightings right from its shores. But with heavy fog, I just didn’t see much hope of an Orca sighting. We’d need to get the Orcas to jump into the boat to see them with fog this heavy. Instead, I’d spent a very enjoyable day walking around Anacortes, enjoying its eclectic collection of shops and restaurants, including a memorable lunch at Dad’s Diner A-Go-Go.

In fact, it was quite sunny that day in the city and I found myself wondering if maybe the fog had cleared! An afternoon jaunt to Friday Harbor? My first Orca sighting a fortuitous package deal, perhaps? It seemed like wishful thinking and, indeed, while hiking to a scenic overlook above Anacortes I was clearly able to see that, though the fog had retreated from land, it was yet blanketing the Salish sea as far as the eye could see. Furthermore, I could see a second, thicker and taller fog bank rolling in to finish the job. Well, that does it, I thought. No Friday Harbor. No Orcas. But wait. Was that an idea I sensed forming in my head? Was there another chance, perhaps?

I was due to depart my picturesque campsite at Deception Pass State Park the next morning and move further south to Seattle. I’d never been to Seattle and was excited to visit. Check-out at the state park was 11AM at the latest. There was no way I could get back from Anacortes to check out in time. And, yet, I had that feeling inside. You know the one. The one where you have a spark of an idea in your mind, inchoate, not fully formed, but somehow you sense a solution emerging. What if…

What if I got up early, like 6AM, broke camp, checked out and departing no later than 7AM. Of course, with me that means it’ll be more like 7:15 or 7:20, but stay with me here. Then I tow my camper to the ferry parking lot. They must have RV parking right? It was just a quick Google search to confirm they did. So I park my camper at the ferry and walk on. I ride the ferry to Friday Harbor and spend 5 ½ hours on the island. Surely, I could find a place to do some whale-watching. I’d bring my long reach binocs and be the envy of those around me as I watched mama Orca and her pod parade by in all their black and white, apex predator glory. I’d be back on the 3:40 ferry to Anacortes, jump in my SUV and tow my camper down to Seattle arriving about 7PM. It’s the perfect plan, or I thought! OK, let me tell you how it really went…

I lost power in my camper that night. I was up until the wee hours trying to diagnose the cause and get it corrected. I won’t go into the details in this narrative but suffice it to say that my late night resulted in my waking up the next morning at 7AM, an hour later than I’d planned. I’d already put my plan in jeopardy. But I was motivated and moving fast, camper hitched and driving away from Deception Pass State Park a few minutes before 8AM.

8:28AM. I pulled into the ferry parking lot just to find that the dedicated RV parking was more than a half mile from the ferry terminal up a 200-foot hill. I couldn’t believe it. There were only six RV parking spaces. Yeah, no kidding! Four of them were available. I maneuvered my rig into one of the generous spots, locked everything up, made sure to engage the parking brake, and inadvertently woke up the couple in the motorhome next to me who had obviously been stealth camping (this means illegally camping in a parking lot that doesn’t allow it). I laughed as they sped away. They couldn’t have just gone back to sleep.

8:35AM. I’m standing at the kiosk to pre-pay my parking, which is required to avoid a ticket. An older, rather academic-looking gentleman in front of me is struggling with what seems to him alien technology. Poor guy. I offer to help because it’s not only extremely painful for me to watch him struggle, it’s becoming clear he may cause me to miss my ferry. An attractive, young couple walks up and are literally hopping from foot to foot waiting for the two us to finish. “I haven’t even paid yet, so you might want to try paying at another kiosk along the path.” They left without comment. Back to my friend who doesn’t know his license plate number and skips away back to his car to get it while I’m standing there with my thumb up my…, well, know what I mean. I help him finish, pay for my own parking and I’m out ahead of him down the long path to the ferry because he forgot something and went back to his car.

8:50AM. I pass the attractive young couple who are also struggling with the parking kiosk. I don’t stop to help. They must know this stuff better than I, I think. A few minutes later they speed walk by me and the young guy asks me, “Do you know where to buy the actual ferry tickets?” “Down at the ferry!” I bark back. I actually have no clue and hadn’t thought about it until this moment, but what else am I gonna say? As we approach the ferry terminal we see a sign, “Walk-on passengers must buy their tickets at the car booths before parking.” My young, now-likely former friend whips around and is just about to implore me with a, “But you said…” when a woman I would learn is the wife of my older, academic-looking friend says to us, “You buy them at a kiosk inside.” Ah, another kiosk, of course.

9:00AM. Tickets in hand and out of breath, we all walk up the steel causeway on to the ferry before the gate closes.

9:05AM The ferry departs Anacortes for Friday Harbor precisely on schedule.

You may be wondering why I keep telling you so much detail about these strangers I encountered that morning. I’ll tell you why. Our journeys that day would continue to be intertwined, our paths crossing inexplicably. It was weird, almost creepy. We’d be laughing about it by the end of the day. Let’s call the older gentleman Paul and the younger man Forrest. We all walked onto the ferry together, expecting to neither see nor hear from each other ever again. We were wrong.

We arrived at Friday Harbor in glorious sun with not a whisp of fog in sight. As you approach Friday Harbor by Ferry it’s like something out of a story book. There are no high rises or modern architecture. It’s quaint with a touch of touristy. Of course, the harbor is littered with sailboats. And though there is reported to be a resident harbor seal, he was apparently still asleep when we arrived that morning. I didn’t linger long in Friday Harbor. I could have. It’s the kind of place that you can easily spend 4 or 5 hours in and not realize where the time went, having enjoyed every minute. Ice cream parlors and espresso joints. Art galleries and t-shirt shops. Corn dogs or gourmet meals with gold medal wines from vines grown right here on San Juan Island.

I’d learned that San Juan Island had a hop-on/hop-off bus that goes around the entire island Have you ever used such a bus to tour a big city? No? Well, next time you have a chance to, you should. I’ve used them in both Florence and Paris, and now Friday Harbor. Not only do they make regular stops at all the top places of interest, they share an amazing narrative about the city and the sites you’re seeing while you ride the bus. It’s like having your very own tour guide! Well, I was tickled to find out that San Juan Island has their own hop-on/hop-off bus they call the Jolly Trolley. Now, with a name like that don’t get any ideas in your head about what we were doing on that bus. There’s no drinking allowed, not even coffee, and no smoking, tobacco or otherwise.

What really had me sold on the Jolly Trolley was stop #10 – Lime Kiln State Park. Huh? I know that seems so random, obscure. That’s what you’re thinking. Admit it. But that’s only because I haven’t yet explained that Lime Kiln State Park is famous for being an Orca viewing hot spot! I was headed there right at this very moment. And it was killing me that I had to wait until stop #10. But because this was the Jolly Trolley I got to hear about other places of interest around San Juan Island including gorgeous and historic Roche Harbor as well as the historic English camp. You see, before the British and the new American upstarts could decide who owned San Juan Island some 200 years ago, each posted a small battalion of soldiers here to keep an eye on the other. An English camp and an American camp. And they almost went to war over a pig! A dead one! It’s a true story. They call it the Pig War. People have written books about it.

I arrived at Lime Kiln State Park flush with optimism. I even bought an Orca sticker at the gift shop. Of course, I did. Behind the gift shop was a refreshment stand called the “Blow-Hole” who’s motto is “Snacks with a Porpoise!”. For real. It was run by another guy named Paul originally from Cleveland. He and I hit it off. I asked for a turkey sandwich and he talked me into roast beef. And I was happy about it. That’s the kind of guy Paul is. I told him I was in search of Orcas and he jumped back in excitement and said, “Hey, Dave! Do you have the app that follows the whale-watching boats? That’s the best way to find them.” I admitted to Paul I’d not heard of it. He frantically pinched and swiped and tapped and swiped and pinched at the screen of his phone and then, looking at me out from under furrowed brow, nodded and said, “There’s a chance. It looks like there’s a big group of boats south of the Island right now. There’s probably Orcas down there.”

But this was a disappointment to me because the Jolly Trolley doesn’t go to the beach at the south end of the island. I needed my own car. Paul immediately recognized my disappointment and said, “But, hey, I said there’s a chance because it’s pretty common for them to head north up the Haro Straight right by this park when they’re done hunting Salmon south of the island.” Paul told me of a good spot from which to view and I was off down the trail, binocs slung over my shoulder, roast beef sandwich and diet coke in hand.

It was a gorgeous, sunny day and I spent more than 3 hours out on that cliff’s edge. At times, there were 12 or 15 of us trying to spot the Orcas. Several times rumors ran through the crowd that they were headed north in our direction. The excitement was tangible. A young woman whale-watcher I met kept pointing and asking me to look in various directions with my long reach binocs, but no Orcas. Finally, she said, “I gotta get me a pair of those.” I hope she does.

I sighted a Great Blue Herron whose shock of feathers atop his head wasn’t blue, but one of the richest shades of violet I could remember seeing. He stood atop “eel” seaweed floating in a lagoon below us and, periodically, casually pierced the water’s surface with his bill emerging with a wiggling fish and then, with a casual flip, down the hatch. He clearly knew his trade. Finally, another rumor of Orcas, but then disappointment again. The number of watchers dwindled and by 3PM, I had to begrudgingly skedaddle for my Jolly Trolley less I risk missing my return ferry.

On the way back up the hill I passed by Paul and thanked him. “No Orcas,” I reported. He gave me a disappointed shake of his head when another young woman walked up. “Hey, Sarah,” Paul entreated, “are the Orcas coming north?” “Doesn’t look like it,” she replied with a shake of her head, “I was on the south beach and they appeared to be headed further out toward Salmon bank.” Saddened, I trudged up the hill to my long ride back to my rig.

On the bus back to Friday Harbor, I bumped into Forrest again and met his brother and his wife. At this pace I was going to meet the whole family! And then we learned we’re both from Michigan! Forrest owns a small restaurant in Traverse City. I promised to stop in and see him some day. I Googled it and it looks like quite the place.

I think the Jolly Trolley is a fantastic way to see San Juan Island. If I'd known I wouldn't see Orcas, here's how I would have spent my day on San Juan Island. Take the 9:05 ferry ro Friday Harbor. Board the first Trolley about 30 minutes after you arrive. Get off at Roche Harbor. Spend the hour you have until the next bus walking around the idyllic town. Have lunch. Take the next Trolley to English Camp. Tour the preserved camp and learn all about the Pig War! Finally take the Trolley to Lime Kiln State Park. Say HI! To Paul. Tell him the Silverback sent you. Walk to the historic lighthouse and take your chances looking out into Haro Straight. You might spot an Orca. Ride the Trolley back to Friday Harbor. Walk the town then grab dinner at one of the many, tasty restaurants. Board an early evening ferry back to Anacortes. Basically, you can do 3 Trolley stops and keep the itinerary I describe above. Maybe you'd rather see a lavender farm and taste their ice cream or visit the Alpaca farm. It's up to you!

Back on the ferry, halfway back to Anacortes, I saw older, academic-looking Paul waving to me, “Dave, did you hear?” “What happened, Paul?” “Well, didn’t you say you were whale-watching out on San Juan Island?” “Yes, I did, but I didn’t see any.” I figured he was going to tell me about the whales spotted off south beach, but, instead, Paul shared excitedly, “Well, our daughter lives in Friday Harbor. We were there visiting her today. Anyway, she just called us a few minutes ago because there was a report that an Orca pod was spotted off Lime Kiln State Park at one of the most famous Orca sighting spots in the San Juan Islands! She and her friend drove out there and are watching the Orcas right now!” “Yeah, that figures, Paul. That’s exactly where I was watching for Orcas all day until just over an hour ago,” I replied, nodding fatefully. The quest continues...

Our car ferry