From the Archipelago: Spring in the Broughton

June-July 2004

This is an article from WaveLength Magazine, available in print in North America and globally on the web.
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by Alexandra Morton

Spring in the Broughton is a spectacle to behold. The sheer fecundity is a wonder. The hooded nudibranchs once again meet in their designated bay. Is that where the current takes them or do they struggle relentlessly against tide and current to reach it? Their luminescent opal farms billow and wave as they cluster on the rocks.

Algae blooms rise and fade in rapid succession. A few days of sun, and the water becomes rich with the food that young salmon, herring and eulachon require to grow rapidly out of their most vulnerable stage. Several days of rain and cloud, and the water clears—the stage set for the next burst of energy from the sun.

The dolphins roam the inlets in large numbers. They seem to be following the sand lance once again, like last year, but so much goes on beneath the surface with dolphins and whales, it’s just a guess.

The herring spawn is good this year. Drawn to the inlets at the full and new moons, the herring turn swaths of beach white with their milt and eggs. Sea gulls, drunk on protein, paddle casually along the shore pecking herring spawn off the fucus seaweed.

Right on schedule, a humpback whale appears. Tasting the herring from unknown distances away, this whale has made an appointment in her whale-sized mental date book—’north Cramer Pass, April—be there’. She only stays two days and then vanishes to the next location stored in her mind.

The predawn is a symphony—songbirds, arctic loons, western grebes, common loons, raven and kingfishers dominate the sound-scape. It is impossible to sleep with so many beings excited about the new day.

The scent of the cottonwood drifts enticingly over the water on the afternoon breeze—ah, there is really nothing like that smell, a tonic of eternal spring and hope. It makes a person’s chest fill deeply, sparks a sigh of happiness.

The starfish have been on their tiptoes for weeks, releasing spawn from between their many legs, tentacles caressing each other. The nudibranchs blow along, making flowers of eggs on the rocks. The barnacles and mussels have covered all available surfaces with tiny replicas of themselves, their success as species confirmed on the bottom of every boat that plies these waters.

A woman of the south Sahara toiling to find clean water and food would be astounded by what we have around us. She would feed and cleanse her children in the richness of this coast. She would think of the gifts of this land as a wealth unimaginable in her homeland where there is not enough to go around, where desertification has robbed her of her ability to thrive.

When I hear we have to risk all of what we have for ‘jobs’, it chills me to the core. Do we really have to fell the forests, pollute the sea with bio-hazards, drill out the oil at risk of all life? Couldn’t we simply find a way to thrive, as life around us has?

I think we can. We are part of life on earth, not at odds with it. Our true wealth lies around us, growing as no investment we can ever bank. With oil on the verge of opening on this coast and the taxing weight of other corporate activity, perhaps we need to pause and think: how wealthy will we be if we lose all of this?

As the tiny pink salmon once again pour out of the rivers, I am watching them. They embody so many virtues we admire. They are courageous, resiliant, persistent, and they benefit all who share their realm. This year, as never before, they are twinkling to the bottom of the sea, tiny fallen stars. As I see each school struggling to get beyond the clouds of sea lice looking to pierce their skin, I try to bless them.

‘Good voyage to you little ones. Thank you for all you offer. Your shimmering, silvery beauty stirs my heart! I work for you, wishing you strength and good fortune.’

© Alexandra Morton, R.P.Bio., is a marine mammal researcher and author.

Web: www.raincoastresearch.org.

A new documentary film about Alexandra Morton—’Alexandra’s Echo’—was broadcast on television this spring. The film follows her through a season in her urgent campaign to prove the real and awful cost of fish farming. This woman, who is happiest alone in her boat listening to whales, has become a reluctant activist, drawing the world’s attention to Echo Bay. VHS tapes are available for sale. Check out www.echobayfilms.com.