"Stampede" -- or, Some Observations on
the 2003 Gray Whale Southward Migration

by Esta Lee Albright

Reprinted from Soundings, March 2003

"...we decided to sail out the Gate to see how the 'save the whales' campaign was going. Duffel in hand, we were just about out the door when a friend with a Cessna offered a completely different vantage point. Within half an hour of taking off from San Rafael, we were over Monterey Bay spotting large puffs of sea spray from southbound grays. Lots of them. In fact, it's a dang stampede out there. In two hours, we counted more than 60 whales."
- - excerpt from " Sightings," an item by Mitch Perkins,
Latitude 38, February 2003.

   
Gray Whale photo (c) Nancy Black
Gray whale
photo © Nancy Black
The Gray whale's southward migration is the best known presence of whales in our area. In fact, a large percentage of local people are not aware that various species of whales are offshore of the Central Coast almost every month of the year. Ironically, the height of the Gray whale migration, mid-January, can be expected to occur during winter storms, high swells, strong wind and surface chop. This year's southward migration not only saw better than usual conditions at sea, but a variety of behavioral surprises.

First, a small Gray whale (about 20 feet long) was spotted along the Monterey breakwater and off Cannery Row on November 29, 2002. This youngster, then perhaps slightly less than one year old, may have begun its southward swim from weaning and feeding grounds off Northern California or Oregon, instead of the traditional feeding grounds around Alaska. Some mother-calf pairs are seen feeding, and the calves evidently are weaned, in these other spots. After weaning, the calf is likely to undertake its first southward migration (several thousand miles) alone.

January 2003 roared in on a gale and cold, wet winter-storm conditions. Whale watch trips were canceled or uncomfortable. Nobody wanted to spend much time standing on cliffs looking for spouts. But, by mid-January, there was a lull in the storms and the numbers of whales began to show. At first, they seemed to prefer a route farther offshore: 5 miles out was not strange.

An unexpected delight was the presence of herds of Long-beaked common dolphins, Delphinus capensis, often inside the bay, and always playful around the boat. Real crowd pleasers. They were reported on 11 out of 15 days the last two weeks of January.

Farther out to sea on January 18, a large herd of Risso's dolphin, Grampus griseus, seemed to be milling around over a two-mile-square area. A few Pacific white-sided dolphins, Lagenorhynchus obliquidens, were scattered around, plus a handful of Northern right-whale dolphins, Lissodelphis borealis. In our jaded way, we are no longer surprised (but always pleased) at multiple species of dolphins around Monterey, but even longtime whale watchers must have been thrilled at the numbers of deepwater Risso's and usually rare Northern right-whale dolphins.

Later that same day, as 10 to 20 Gray whales came along, the Risso's seemed to split into small pods and harass small groups of the Grays. As the Risso's swam close to the whales, the Grays would close and swim in tightly packed groups of 5 or 6 whales. They would speed up (clocked at 5 knots). They would roll sideways. Edges of flukes would come above the water and flippers were seen. Rostrums rose as whales arched above the water. Some whales rolled upside down for awhile and throat pleats were out of the water. The Risso's kept leaping and forcing their way into a group as it moved through the water, mostly oblivious to nearby boats.

A dozen Pacific white-sided dolphins joined the melee, but at the front of the group, leaping and riding the bow waves created by the lead whales. Northern right-whale dolphins were seen streaking along beside, keeping a distance from the fray but part of the scene. Amazed whale watchers were even more questioning about the long pink member that would rise above the water from the underside of a rolling whale. Whereas naturalists flounder around for polite euphemisms for the "male member," boat skippers have always called it "The Pink Floyd." It's hard to say what comes first: mating activity among whales, which then attracts dolphins, or dolphins creating the excitement that brings on mating activity.

On January 25, while watching Gray whales swimming south offshore, we suddenly came across a small pod of 3 or 4 whales swimming fast toward the north. Wondering about this, we immediately thought of Orcas, and there they were! A spread-out group of 25 to 30 Orcas, Orcinus orca, were swimming along at a comfortable travel speed northward. After moving along with them a few minutes, we began to think they resembled the Offshore population of Orcas, and soon Nancy Black (Monterey Bay Whale Watch research scientist) recognized a few individuals as being Offshores. The north-swimming Gray whales had kept going north and east, while the Orcas swam along at a steady pace right on past. We wondered that the Gray whales didn't seem to make the distinction between possible sounds made by these fish-eating Offshores and the calls of mammal-eating Transient Orcas.

At the beginning of February, numbers of whales were still high, though maybe not up to the rush reported in mid-January. (See Sightings on the Monterey Bay Whale Watch website.) Two Transient Orcas were spotted on two different days, traveling through the migration path but not seen making a kill. These two males, identified as CA 25 and CA 30, have been seen together again and again in recent years. They were known to 'take' a Gray whale calf on their own in a former year. Two large male orcas, possibly brothers, swimming fast, close together, seem to be the epitome of power.

By February 8, we had that disorienting experience brought by seeing Gray whales swimming north on one side of the boat and others swimming south on the other side of the boat. We have to wonder what prompts some whales to turn around (?) down south somewhere, and to head for the feeding grounds while others are still following instincts south. Northbound whales seem to come along the Big Sur coast, fairly close to shore until they reach Cypress Point, past Carmel Bay. They often then swing outward toward Ano Nuevo and a beeline to Alaska and food.

At the end of the first week in February, conditions and whales were still optimal. Toward the end of one warm, windless, sunny afternoon, we could sit offshore and listen to whales breathe as they peacefully swam along. The Gray whale migration, closer to shore than most other whales come, draws a multitude of boats. Both private and professional boat operators, without adequate instruction in whale watching etiquette, and with zeal to please friends or customers quickly, may use some whale watch practices less than desirable for the whales: quick acceleration around the whales, fast approach toward whales, changing engine noise and gears, multiple boats around the same whales. Experienced drivers learn that, with a lot of patience, boats dispersed widely, and slow, steady boat handling, watchers can see the whales obviously relax, slow, and swim their timeless progress -- spouts glowing in the low afternoon light, backs glistening mottled gray, then the curves of tail flukes as the whales sound into the world they alone know well.
Esta Lee Albright works as a naturalist on whalewatch boats.
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Last updated March 15, 2003.