Excuses

Early morning: joined Trumpeter swan counters, walked 3+ km. Saw California sea lions swimming up the channel. On the way home, saw cormorants by the shore. Went home, grabbed camera, went to stalk cormorants down the beach until they flew away. Saw raft of sea lions, 20 or more; chased them up the channel on foot and by car. Drove to pier, walked to end, hoping to see the lions arrive. Beat them, waited. No sea lions, but saw a grebe.

Came home, booted up, fell asleep at the computer. Heading out again in a bit.

So no post today.

Well, maybe one photo.

Thatched acorn barnacles, Oyster Bay.

Advance scouts

We were in the dinghy, going around Mitlenatch Island to see the sea lions, but a couple of them were impatient and came to see us first.

Steller's sea lions. No, he isn't hoping to eat us; it just looks as if his mouth were open. It's the shadow under his chin, and just a hint of teeth showing.

These are the largest of the sea lions. The males can weigh over 2000 pounds, although the average for a mature male is about 1200 lb. Females are about half that.

Our little harbour seal is a "true" seal; it has no external ears. The sea lions are "eared seals",  or otarids.

They've looked us over, and they're going on their way. We're boring.

Zooming in to see the cute little ears.

(7th in a series of 9 Mitlenatch Island posts. #1, #2, #3, #4. #5. #6, #7, #8)

Once in a lifetime

It's salmon spawning season in the Bella Coola valley.  Every river and creek is full of them, splashing and twisting, struggling against the current in water that often seems too shallow for swimming, leaping up rocky steps, catching their breath in small eddies.

I went to Clayton Creek to watch them.

The male develops a hump in spawning season.

I think these are pinks, because of the spotted tail.

Clayton Creek runs into North Bentinck Arm (seawater) just below the Bella Coola river mouth. From here, the salmon swim up a shallow, fast stream for a few hundred feet, before things become difficult.

Where the river meets the sea. Easy swimming.

At the first bend of Clayton Creek. Jumping practice.

And only a few feet beyond, roaring Clayton Falls and whirlpool. The salmon climb it.

Somewhere above the falls, the female salmon digs herself a shallow nest (a redd) and lays her eggs. Her mate fertilizes them, and then, exhausted and battered, he drifts back down the creek. The mother will hang around a few days, to make sure her eggs are safe, but then, she too dies and floats downstream. Some spawned-out salmon are caught up top by bears and eagles; some make it to the bottom, but they all die. Their work is done.

One didn't make it up the falls. She was caught and slaughtered, her roe scattered on rocks at the base of the falls.

A male. dead on the sea grasses of the tide flats. At spawning time, they turn red, and develop a hooked jaw.

The females are more subdued. This one has a slight hint of pink, and a bit of a curve in the upper jaw.

And out on the breakwater, sea lions sleep, their tummies full of fish.

One came over to look at me.

In the spring, the young salmon will swim back down the creek, into the wide ocean. And when their turn comes, they will return to the same creek, and climb the same falls that their parents did before them.