19 Aug 2017

SOE: Whale Spotting Near Yttegran Island

We awoke to calm seas, sunlight breaking through the clouds, the hillsides surrounding Penkengay Fjord more reminiscent of Kamchatka to the south rather than here in Chukotka. Thanks to an unusual microclimate, the tundra gives way to stands of dwarf cedar and other small conifers, an ideal habitat for brown bears and spotting brown bears was our goal today. But by the time we finished breakfast and loaded the Zodiacs, a northwesterly wind was already whipping up the bay and bringing rain across the surrounding peaks.

Grisha valiantly led the search for bears as rain began to pelt us, the settled in for a steady drench. We saw shearwaters, kittiwakes and even the odd puffin. There was a fisherman’s camp and most exciting, distant views of a gyrefalcon winging its way across a rivercourse. A minke whale made a brief appearance (by which time it was most appreciated). There were sandhill cranes, and eider ducklings, but in the end the wind and rain encouraged us back to the ship.

During lunch the Captain began repositioning the ship to an anchorage near our planned landing on the south side of Yttegran Island. But in truth, there was little enthusiasm for another dose of arctic rain. And then something extraordinary happened. Or rather something ordinary for the place, extraordinary that we were there at the time. As we approached the west side of Yttegran, whale blows could be seen ahead. One, two, three we counted, then three more. Then we saw the unmistakeable fin of a male orca, and his accompanying pod. Captain eased back the throttle, then put us into drift. We raced to the bow, the flying bridge and the stern as humpbacks began to feed around the ship. Grisha was in his element as he watched the interaction between the orcas and humpbacks.

At first he thought the orcas might be preying on the humpback morther or calf. But after watching a bit longer, he believed the orcas were schooling fish, swimming round in a carousel fashion. He thought the humpback mother detected the school of fish and moved in with the calf to feed. We could definitely see some action between the two species as the humpback slapped its tail to move the orcas on. Grisha saw this happen three times before the orcas left the area.

After nearly an hour, it seemed like the only way that we could improve on the experience, would be to see it from water level. Howard made the call to quickly grab a hot drink, download pictures and be prepared to load into Zodiacs. We planned to be out for an hour, but as soon as we were in the Zodiacs, it was clear that something extraordinary was happening. All around us we could hear the sonorous exhalation of whale blow. Kostya was onto the situation immediately, taking his boat to a spot that seemed to draw them in. Several whales took a liking to his Zodiac, swimming right alongside, slapping the water, fluking and even spyhopping to everyone’s delight.

In time every boat had its own personal whale experience, with more spyhopping, whales gliding like pale ghosts under the hulls, close, close encounters. Just when it seemed the late afternoon couldn’t get better, the sun broke through to bath the scene with golden light. One hour became two, then nearly three before the sun disappeared behind a mountain and it was time to return to the ship. By Grisha’s estimate, we had shared the bay with some 40 humpbacks, 12 orcas, 8 grays and 4 minkes. You could tell by the smiles, and the pre-dinner buzz in the bar, that this was an experience that none of us will ever forget.