I tried my luck in the morning, at noon, in the evening. Armed with binoculars and espadrilles on the steep shore, sculpted by the tides.
My luck will come, I’m sure. I see their photos several times a week on our little island in southern British Columbia’s Facebook page.
Real world stars, these J-Pod killer whales, especially since a female carried the remains of her calf for 17 days in 2018. They are threatened, tracked, studied. We even closed the salmon fishery in the area to give them a boost.
And yet, once again, they let me down.
Perhaps they wanted to remind me that despite my efforts, I continue to lack patience.
A business
I would have to go to Vancouver or Victoria, pay $149, and I would be guaranteed to see fin whales and humpback whales, each one more majestic than the other.
But now, since I’m interested in the killer whales of the J-Pod, I refuse.
Why do we have to consume the beauty of our landscapes and our fauna as if we were at Disney?
A little $59 for belugas, another $85 for seals in kayaks, guaranteed wonder!
We are moved by their peaceful beauty, their quiet strength, their constant fight for their survival, and yet, we persist in going to disturb them to have the guarantee of seeing them up close. Gone are the days when we had the patience to wait for them.
A veritable industry, ecotourism has been able to take advantage of our quest for strong emotions guaranteed at the chosen moment.
But in doing so, we miss the point.
Contemplate
Our country is among the richest in the world in terms of access to the splendours of nature.
The history of these lakes, these rivers, these forests, the history of these caribou, these salmon and these beavers flow in our veins. And yet we have stopped loving them with all the respect they deserve.
We consume them, to buy holy peace during our all too rare holidays.
The debate on the survival of woodland caribou bears witness to this.
We like going to see them at the top of Mont Jacques-Cartier, in Gaspésie. We find them dignified, endearing. They are lucky they live in a national park.
But no question of spending millions to save others.
It would be madness to reforest logging roads that make them vulnerable to wolves and other predators. And above all, we must not harm the forest industry, which is the economic heart of our regions.
It is so much easier to get emotional for the deer of Longueuil. It’s not expensive.
And this boreal forest… Instead of following its paths, accumulating the kilometers like trophies, what if we took the trouble to look at it, smell it, try to understand it?
Many tourist guides are bought before going to Europe, imagine if we bought guides on fauna and the forest before the next excursion.
Because if we took the trouble to understand the beauty and complexity of our great spaces, perhaps we would be more inclined to do what is necessary for their survival.
This is also the fight against climate change. And in addition, it is a sublime balm for the soul.