Summer Without the Southern Residents

Monika on the rocks at Lime Kiln as a member of L-Pod swims by during a summer in the early 2000s

20 Years of Change

2005

In the summer of 2005, I was starting my third season as a research intern for The Whale Museum and my first season working as a marine naturalist aboard a whale-watching vessel. Every day, whether it was on shore at Lime Kiln or on the water departing out of Friday Harbor, chances were high we would see Southern Resident killer whales. On June 28th, I wrote in my logbook that a new calf was seen with L86, the sixth one of the season, which felt normal. On July 27th, there was a greeting ceremony in Boundary Pass that kicked off a superpod that lasted until July 29th. My notes are filled with details on who is now sprouting, who spent an unusual amount of time away from their core matriline, and who is sporting a new scratch or nick. There are a lot of exclamation points. The Southern Residents were still months away from being officially listed as an endangered population.

SRKW population size: 87
Estimated # of days SRKW were in the Salish Sea May-August: 109
Average catch per unit effort for Chinook on the Fraser River Albion test fishery in August: 1.70
US regulations regarding whale-watching: None (100 yard viewing recommendation)

2015

In the summer of 2015, we had noticed enough changes that we decided it might be time to start documenting them through this new passion project we formed as a small cohort of community scientists: the Orca Behavior Institute. Our first research questions surround the changing social associations and what are at this point in time anecdotal observations of changes in overall behavior. The Southern Residents are still here, but things feel different. J-Pod is now regularly splitting into 2 groups and K-Pod into 3 groups. My notes indicate that August 25th was the first day of the year there was a true superpod in inland waters. On September 7 I meet L91's new calf L122, the sixth of seven that will be born during what has everyone buzzing as a baby boom year.

SRKW population size: 81
Estimated # of days SRKW were in the Salish Sea May-August: 97
Average catch per unit effort for Chinook on the Fraser River Albion test fishery in August: 1.27
US regulations regarding whale-watching: 200 yard distance required

2025

In the summer of 2025 I've somehow stopped expecting the Southern Residents to be here. When our research interns arrive in June, I tell them that over the course of the three months they're here, they will probably meet at least J-Pod, but there are no guarantees. A few of us still pick days when we think the whales might return, but others no longer play this game. "I'm not sure I'll ever see them again," one person says.  My field notes are filled with details of encounters with Bigg's killer whales. I remark when we reach 8 weeks without Southern Residents at the end of June, but it doesn't create much of a stir. My main connection to the whales this season is writing up our Southern Resident activity budget paper comparing the 1970s to the 2010s. One new calf has been documented this year, and somehow that still feels lucky. The Southern Residents are coming up on having been listed as endangered for 20 years this fall, but the population has lost a net of 13 whales over that time.

SRKW population size: 74
Estimated # of days SRKW were in the Salish Sea May-August: 3
Average catch per unit effort for Chinook on the Fraser River Albion test fishery in August: 1.21
US regulations regarding whale-watching: 1000 yard viewing distance required

‍SRKW population data from the Center for Whale Research
SRKW presence/absence data from the Orca Behavior Institute
Fraser River Chinook test catch effort from DFO

‍Where Do We Go From Here?

It's hard to sit down and write this. I talk about the shifts we've seen all the time, but I've numbed myself to the emotions that come with brooding over the facts. It's tempting to focus on just the positive, like the fact that we continue to see more Bigg's killer whales year after year and get to spend more time with them than I ever could have imagined. But while that has been exciting and fun, it doesn't make up for the lack of Southern Residents. There were no visits from the Southern Residents in May, in June, in August. There was one brief visit from J-Pod in July. That's been it.

While there is sadness and grief, perhaps the emotion I feel more than anything else is fear. What does it mean when whale enthusiasts can rattle off complicated Bigg's killer whale IDs left and right but don't recognize L105, one of the most easily identifiable Southern Residents? What does it mean when, due to both regulations and the whales' changing travel patterns, hardly any one will ever have the opportunity again to see what happens when the whales exit Active Pass, or round Turn Point? What does it mean when sometimes I look around, and it seems like I'm the only one who notices that they aren't here?

On one hand it feels selfish to be sad, because thanks to a few excursions by the Center for Whale Research and a handful of community member reports, we know the whales have been spending the summer months near Swiftsure Bank off the western end of the Strait of Juan de Fuca. All three pods have been there, often together. There are still superpods happening, and if there can be that many whales together out there, they must have found enough fish there to sustain them. This is a sign that the whales are adapting, and with shifting prey resources, we need them to be adaptable. The fact that they aren't here could very well be a good sign.

On the other hand, it's hard to take this change as a positive one until we see the "payoff" of their new habits in the form of a net population increase. They're surviving, and that's good, but we hope to see their population grow. Washington State lists the goal of seeing the population increase to 86 whales by 2030, but gaining 12 whales in 4.5 years doesn't feel possible. It feels even less possible when you consider the current political climate and the ongoing environmental deregulation.

Yet what have however many hundreds of millions of recovery dollars over the last two decades actually done for the whales? This isn't to say that nothing positive has resulted from any of it, but we certainly haven't halted the Southern Resident population decline. We collectively publish papers on their imminent and perhaps unavoidable extinction, on how if we pull different levers to somehow make fish go up and noise go down we might see incremental population changes, on how they need us to do these few dozen things that we've all agreed need to happen yet we somehow still haven't done. What we're doing isn't working, for them or for us.

My thoughts are rambling because I don't have any answers. A constant lesson in both my personal and professional life is that I can't "fix" this, not by myself, and maybe not at all. But there are things that I can do, so I have to focus on those. I can carefully track when the Southern Residents are here and when they are not, and make sure that people making policy decisions have those numbers. I can celebrate their visits, and share photos and videos of those encounters to keep the whales present in the minds of those who have not had the chance to see them. I can be one of the people who carries the history, shares the stories, and highlights the ongoing changes by writing posts like this one to share the fact that this year is lowest on record for Southern Resident Salish Sea presence from May through August at just 3 days. (The only other year that comes close is 2021 at 9 days. All other years from 2015-2024 ranged from 22-97 days over that time period.)

I love seeing the Bigg's and the Northern Residents and the humpbacks, all populations that are growing and signs perhaps of the things we are doing right. But today, I am sitting with the sadness and the fear that comes with the fact that now, the months of May through August in the Salish Sea mean summers without the Southern Residents.