Threatened wolves and endangered orca “whales”: A report from British Columbia
by Bob Reese
Read the original article here.
While the Discovery Island archipelago is not that far from where I live in Victoria, British Columbia, I regrettably never had the opportunity to hear Takaya's howl. In the language of the local indigenous First Nations, "Takaya" means "wolf." Thus, the lone wolf that took up residence on Discovery Island became so-named. While many viewed the rare presence of a wild wolf so close to a city as intriguing if not awe-inspiring, members of the indigenous Songhees Nation, who have a strong cultural reverence for wolves, viewed it in a spiritual context. The timing of Takaya’s arrival in their lands was close to the passing of their Chief Robert Sam. According to their culture and traditions, wolves represented the embodiment of their Chief’s spirit.
After dispersing from his pack, Takaya made his way through the urban neighborhoods of southern Vancouver Island and swam nearly one and a half miles, across a channel with some of the strongest ocean currents on the British Columbia coast, to take up residence on a small group of islands within the Reserve Lands of the Songhees Nation. Cheryl Alexander, naturalist and photographer observed Takaya over a six year period and documented the wolf's behaviors and expressions. In her much-acclaimed book Takaya, Lone Wolf (https://takayalonewolf.com/books/) she notes: “He arrived on the island shore alone. Possibly at dawn. Likely exhausted. Probably exhilarated. Perhaps fearful. Certainly on a mission.... As a dispersing wolf, Takaya had found the first of the three things he was searching for -- a territory to call his own. He likely very quickly began the ongoing process of marking his home territory. Although a tiny one, it was his.”
As a coastal wolf, Takaya adapted to a marine-based diet that enabled him to live and thrive there for nearly eight years. Takaya lived in a territory less than a square mile, exceptionally close to the City of Victoria with a population of 386,000. This is a fraction of the normal range for a wolf, which is generally between 60 – 600 square miles. The current wolf population on Vancouver Island (which is approximately 12,000 square miles) is estimated between 250 to 350, with most in the wilderness areas located in the northern and west coast regions of the island. Population numbers so far have largely been based on anecdotal reports from hunters, who base this on a perceived reduction in ungulate populations. Unfortunately, many hunters still consider wolves to be vermin to be exterminated at all costs.
During his eight years, Takaya seemed appropriately cautious and primarily avoided people, albeit appeared at times to be tolerant if not curious of others. Indeed, by those who knew of his presence, he was admired and revered. In January of last year, he left his island territory, ending up in the center of the city. While no one really knows why he made the swim from his island hideaway, speculations include searching for a mate and/or food, or possibly just was swept from the isle by strong winter currents. Spotted hiding against a house, he was tranquilized, caged, transported nearly one hundred miles from the coast with which he was so familiar, tagged, and let loose. His eventual relocation to a "wilder" community far from his home-island and absent the cloak of celebrity and respect, resulted in his eventual death. He was shot by a cougar hunter… simply because he was a wolf. The hunter later admitted that Takaya was not threatening, but was simply watching his dogs. Legal though it was, it was an encounter that tragically ended the life of this very unique wolf.
Concerns about his fate were always present, and in an article in the March 27, 2020 Guardian ("Canada Mourns Takaya") just prior to his death Ms. Alexander's deep concern, ultimately played out: “He (Tayaka) doesn’t have that fear instilled in him that humans are bad. He’s trusting. It worries me he may find himself in a situation where humans are not all good and don’t have his interests at heart...."
Now celebrated in various creative art forms, the life and passing of this wolf is likely to become local -- and beyond -- legend. Beside her book, Cheryl Alexander’s award-winning CBC – “The Nature of Things” documentary, ("Takaya: Lone Wolf") has also reached people around the globe. As his legend is shared, so should be the mindset of our need to respect, keep distanced, co-exist, learn from, protect, and ultimately prioritize biodiversity. Wolves have been here in North America for nearly a half million years and surely have a rightful place in the global ecology, especially as they are crucial for healthy continuance of important ecosystems.
Takaya was ‘legally’ killed because recreational killing of wolves is sanctioned in British Columbia. Over 1200 wolves are killed annually by hunters. Along with recreational killing and trapping for their fur, wolves are also threatened and destroyed due to an ongoing government-led wolf cull. A campaign led by the noted environmental advocacy organization Pacific Wild (https://pacificwild.org/) seeks to stop the wolf cull as emphasized here: "The government’s decision to scapegoat wolves represents a failure to protect and restore habitat required by mountain caribou; old-growth forest that has been fragmented and destroyed by industrial logging, oil and gas exploration and recreational activity (snowmobiling, heli-skiing, cat skiing).
Over decades, these impacts have left many populations of caribou in serious decline, without habitat they need for their specialized diets and protection from predators. A study recently released suggests 900 square kilometres of identified critical habitat has been logged since 2014. In addition, the province is considering the approval of at least two mines in critical habitat, one in the calving grounds of an endangered caribou herd. To date, the wolf cull program has killed over 1,000 wolves and cost taxpayers approximately $2.2 million."
The known ecological importance of wolves reinforces the strong objection by many animal behavior and ecology-centered scientists to the United States Fish and Wildlife Service’s recent reclassification removing wolves from the endangered and full protection status.
The Orcas
Ironically, the saga of the regional threatened wolves is linked to the magnificent endangered orca (Orcinus orca)"whales" off the pacific northwest coast. The oral traditions and art of the Pacific Northwest First Nations are filled with references to orcas as both “Sea Wolves” and “Guardians of the Sea.” Reverence for this, the largest of earth’s predators, stems from their intelligence, power, and durability. Moreover, both wolves and orca have complex body and vocal expressions as well as sophisticated hunting techniques. Just as with wolf packs, the orcas' life-long bonds and compassion to family, i.e. their “pods”, are strong and enduring.
Interestingly, orcas or so-called "killer whales" are not whales at all but rather are in the dolphin family, Delfinidae. If you look closely at the orca's body shape, it compares more to a dolphin than that of whales. For example, dolphins have heads that curve into a bulbous, beak-like shape with bodies that are designed to make them more efficient and aerodynamic in their movements. Orcas can live up to 70 years, weigh up to 6 tonnes, and can be up to 32 feet long.
Heard before seen
While immersed in this spectacular Pacific coastal region, I experienced the resounding behaviors of endangered orcas. About 15 years ago on a kayak trip to Robson Bight (the Michael Bigg) Ecological Reserve, I watched from 100 yards as the 5-6 foot dorsal fin of a large mature male rose out of the water. It was a moment of great exhilaration. It was there I learned that often times the presence of an orca will be heard before it is seen.
As they approach the surface, the sound of their exhale is quite distinctive and easily visible. Did chills go up my back? You bet they did! But, they were not chills of fear, rather they were chills from the excitement that comes from observing these stunning animals surface and manuever with agility and grace. We watched over the bows of our kayaks as the pod foraged for food – diving, surfacing and diving again. Breaking from the pod, a female with a calf swam toward our tethered group. At about 50 yards the mother positioned herself vertically and began to bob up and down like a slow moving cork. The behavior is called “spy hopping”. With her calf by her side, she was clearly watching us to make sure we did not pose a threat.
Recently (October 2020), an 11 year old female orca was observed during a breach with what appeared to be a substantial baby-bump. If this calf can make it to term and survive, it means the addition of a third calf born to the endangered southern resident population this year. Two were born in September 2020. Given that there have been no surviving calves since 2015, these 3 represent hope for this particular pod's future. In July 2018, after a female from this pod lost her calf, she was observed pushing its lifeless body to the surface for 17 days. This sustained act of mourning was the subject of much world-wide attention. This is further evidence of the orcas’ ability to experience and express grieving and loss - a recognition growing among the science community re: mammals.
The population of resident orcas in the waters off the coast of northwest Washington State and southwest British Columbia are down to 73 from a high of 98 in the mid-1990s. The decline of their main food source, Chinook salmon, is being cited as a contributing factor to their dwindling numbers. And the Chinook’s decline, according to some studies, are being tied to the presence of open pen fish farms. In response, as reported in the Times Colonist (12-17-20), the Federal government of Canada has recently announced plans to phase out fish farms in the waters around Discovery Island archipelago. (Yes, the same archipelago Takaya once called home.)
While this action has been long-awaited and welcomed by local First Nations and environmentalists, it has spurred pushback by the fish farm industry and local officials for the impact it will have on local economies. The groups in play at the moment are the orca, the Chinook, First Nations bands ("tribes"), the fish farms industry and jobs in local communities (Times Colonist, 12-31-20).
A recent birth
Orcas hunt by using their own built-in version of sonar. Unfortunately, however, their hunting grounds tend to be increasingly noisy due to the acoustic “harassment devices” installed by fish farms, increased shipping traffic in the Salish Sea ,and sonar exercises conducted by the US Navy (just south of the Canadian border). While the new calf births are a good sign, long-term success of the endangered resident population depends on commitment to making the food chain to which the salmon belong more viable and accessible (Times Colonist, 11-25-20)
A more recent glimmer of hope: Recently two resident orca pods were sighted with a young calf returning after a 20 year absence to traditional hunting grounds in the Broughton Archipelago. The removal of the acoustic harassment devices is being cited as the primary reason for their ability to return. The return of these orcas is viewed as a positive sign that Chinook stocks may be rebounding and so with it the return of this particular northern pod (Time Colonist, 1-8-21). If that is the case, it is a promising sign for these orcas, Chinook, First Nations and essential biodiversity.