The Road to Listing Southern Residents as Endangered

Southern Resident orcas were listed as endangered under the Endangered Species Act in 2005, but it was not an easy road to get there. While the research by Michael Bigg and Ken Balcomb revealed decades ago that Southern Resident orcas were a discrete and special group, even in 2005 it was undetermined if they were actually a Distinct Population Segment - different enough from other orcas to be considered a discrete population. Ultimately, thanks to the detailed research by Center for Whale Research and many additional organizations, there was robust information to establish these orcas as a genetically distinct population with unique calls, social structure, and culture. Being designated a Distinct Population Segment led to their endangered listing and gave them the protection they needed. But is it enough? Stay tuned this month to learn more about how the ESA has helped with recovery efforts, and what more still needs to be done.

Check out the story below, which highlights the struggle to list Southern Residents as endangered, and a timeline of the process.

J Pod and L Pod ©Orca Network.

The road to listing Southern Residents as endangered

Southern Resident orcas were listed as endangered under the Endangered Species Act in 2005, but it was not an easy road to get there. While the research by Michael Bigg and Ken Balcomb revealed decades ago that Southern Resident orcas were a discrete and special group, even in 2005 it was undetermined if they were actually a Distinct Population Segment - different enough from other orcas to be considered a discrete population. Ultimately, thanks to the detailed research by Center for Whale Research and many additional organizations, there was robust information to establish these orcas as a genetically distinct population with unique calls, social structure, and culture. Being designated a Distinct Population Segment led to their endangered listing and gave them the protection they needed. But is it enough? Stay tuned this month to learn more about how the ESA has helped with recovery efforts, and what more still needs to be done.

Timeline of events leading to Endangered status under the ESA:

2001 - A petition was sent to NOAA Fisheries on behalf of Center for Biological Diversity and co-petitioners to list the Southern Residents as endangered. NOAA determined that listing was not warranted at that time because Southern Residents were not considered a separate species or Distinct Population Segment (DPS), and instead began the process to list them as “depleted” under the Marine Mammal Protection Act.

2002 - This decision was challenged in District Court, who issued an order for NOAA to redetermine the endangered listing. As a result, a Biological Review Team was reconvened and new scientific data was considered. They determined that Southern Residents do belong to a separate subgroup of resident killer whales and should be considered a discrete DPS. They also conducted a population viability analysis which modeled the probability of extinction.

2003 – Canada listed Southern Resident orcas as endangered under the Species at Risk Act.

2004 - Washington State listed Southern Resident orcas under the state ESA. Upon consulting with Washington State and Tribal co-managers, NOAA published a proposed rule to list Southern Residents as federally threatened under the Endangered Species Act. Ultimately, public comments and additional information convinced NOAA to list them as endangered.

2005 – Southern Residents were officially listed by NOAA as endangered under the Endangered Species Act.

To read the full rule by NOAA: Federal Register :: Endangered and Threatened Wildlife and Plants: Endangered Status for Southern Resident Killer Whales

J1 Ruffles

Today we remember another legendary J Pod whale – J1 Ruffles. He was closely associated with Granny through his adult life and for many years he was thought to be her son. But DNA research has shown that they weren’t actually closely related and he may in fact have been an L Pod whale. Regardless of the genetics, Granny and Ruffles were chosen family and were rarely seen apart.

J1 was the first orca in the population to receive an alphanumeric designation, and he helped to kick off the decades of research that have made the Southern Residents one of the most studied whale populations in the world. After they were listed under the Endangered Species Act in 2005, research increased to focus even more on the threats causing their decline, and we’ve learned even more about the orcas, their lives, and their social relationships - like the fact that Ruffles actually wasn’t Granny’s son!

Check out the story on J1 below, written by Orca Network’s Education and Advocacy Coordinator, Cindy Hansen.

J1 Ruffles ©Cindy Hansen.

J1 Ruffles

The Whale. The Legend. J1 “Ruffles”. He was quite likely the most famous and well-known wild orca in the world, next to Keiko. In front of thousands of adoring fans, he would slowly surface and then just as slowly disappear beneath the water again, as if he knew how impressive that wavy dorsal fin was. People from all over the world saw him and loved him, but one admirer in particular remains etched in my memory.

Danny (name changed for privacy) was a special needs man who was a passenger on our whale watch boat at least once a year. He loved us, and he loved Ruffles. Each time he walked on the dock to start the trip, he would embrace all of us in a huge bear hug so strong we would have to hang on to each other to keep from falling in the water. We adored him. And we knew that whenever he was with us, we were going to have a fantastic day with J Pod. Because Danny had a special connection with Ruffles that was difficult to comprehend. I’ll never forget the day we were watching J Pod traveling close to shore off Henry Island. Ruffles left the group and did a complete circle around us. He surfaced four or five times, always right next to Danny, who was laughing gleefully as he followed his whale around the boat. After Ruffles had visited his friend, he returned to Granny and the rest of the pod close to shore, and continued on his way.

My last year working on the boat, the last day I saw Danny, we had a report of the L12s at Salmon Bank while J pod had headed north to the Fraser River the previous day. We had a choice to make – go for the sure thing or take the chance that J Pod would be headed back down Rosario Strait, which they often did in those days. It was an easy decision – Danny was on the boat. We took the chance and of course J Pod was there, as we knew they would be. And as he had done so many times over the years, Ruffles left the group and surfaced right where Danny was standing. It was a wonderful last memory of the strange and beautiful relationship between the two of them. I can’t begin to understand or explain the connection, and maybe I don’t want to. Maybe it’s enough just to know that it existed, and to remember the joy it brought to a friend.

Wise Elder Matriarch J2 Granny

We can’t talk about Lasting Legacies without honoring the legendary J2 Granny. She was the undisputed matriarch of the Southern Resident orcas and the leader of a five-generation family. She died in 2016 at an estimated age between 80 and 100 years old, a longevity we rarely see in the Southern Residents today.

Granny was born decades before the steep population decline, long before there was an Endangered Species Act. For years, she led her family through waters that were free of contaminants and filled with plentiful salmon. Her knowledge of safe waters and when and where to find food was passed down through her family, and still guides the whole population - not just a lasting legacy, but a living one. Our hope is that with stronger recovery actions and protections like the ESA, Granny’s descendants will once again swim in healthy waters and live long, happy lives.

Check out the story below about Granny, written by long-time naturalist and educator, Caroline Armon.

J2 Granny ©Caroline Armon.

Wise Elder Matriarch J2 Granny

My first profound encounter with J2 Granny happened early in my career, as a Marine Naturalist on the Salish Sea. It’s summer in the year 2000. I’m standing behind a group of people on the tour boat’s side-deck as we watch Granny’s family of 4 generations swim north up San Juan Channel. Part of my job is to interpret the behavior of these Orca for the group of tourists onboard. An elder woman standing in front of me shares that she is the same age as Granny, and is also a great-grandmother. Standing next to her is a young woman, a new mother holding her baby. The baby starts to cry and the great-grandmother and I reassure the flustered mom, who is worried the baby is bothering other people, and is about to take the baby into the boat cabin when Granny leaves her family and swims up next to the boat, right below us. She slowly spy-hops raising her head out of the water and slowly turning, gazes at each of us, straight into our eyes. Then she slowly sinks back down into the water and swims back to her family. Time stops, freeze-frame moments. I don’t remember if the baby stopped crying, we were all stunned. The depth, the awareness, the sentient being we shared eye contact with in Granny’s soulful eye is indescribable, beyond words, an unforgettable encounter that endeared Granny to me and all. I wish I too could echolocate: send and receive three dimensional photographic and x-ray-like information, as Granny can. I can only imagine her perception of us humans. She recognized the distress in that crying baby, she came and comforted us. It was a dream come true for that other great-grandmother, and an extraordinary story for that baby who is now grown up. Granny responded to a natural sound of universal communication. It was an interspecies connection that still inspires my advocacy.

I have so many memories of Granny leading her family, her J-pod, and all the pods- she was the matriarch of the clan of Southern Resident killer whales. She was often with the first group of whales sighted. On one perfect July day, sunny and warm, tall ships sailing in San Juan Channel, there were reports of Orca in Rosario Strait. As we approached the strait, a thick marine fog lay on the water and reduced visibility. We heard the powerful breathing of the whales echoing long before we saw them. The sun melted the fog and there were Orca everywhere the eye could see. It was a super-pod: the entire clan, 85 whales at that time, spread out in families and groups. That summer day J1 Ruffles appeared to be in the lead of the clan as they swam south along the eastern shores of Lopez Island. Then Granny surfaced in front of Ruffles and took the lead. Approaching the end of Lopez, the super-pod had to decide whether to continue south, or make a right turn into the Strait of Juan de Fuca and head west. Matriarch Granny turned right and all 84 whales followed her.

Granny seemed to give Ruffles his space as he would often be out in mid-channel while Granny and her grandchildren would be close together near shore. Another beautiful, scenic summer day, we were drifting in calm waters while J-pod families leisurely swam down Boundary Pass. As we observed a steady stream of whales, I remember wondering: where were Granny and Ruffles? She wasn’t with the first group. Then we saw she was at the end of the J-pod stream by herself, and Ruffles was another mile behind all by himself. As Granny was passing us, she abruptly turned around and sped swam back to Ruffles. He joined her and they both rapidly swam side by side, leaving a whale wake, until they caught up with the rest of J-pod. Powerful and agile, looking like the dolphins they are. (Science classifies orca as the largest member of the dolphin family, all these common and scientific names can be so confusing.) We definitely sensed Granny’s in charge, she was the clan eldest.

In the autumn of 2014, while at Lime Kiln Point State Park, we watched Granny leading the way once again, traveling north scanning Haro Strait for salmon. She turned back south and dove playfully, turning upside down and rolling around in the bull kelp beds near shore by the lighthouse. Did Granny feel the wonder from all of us by the lighthouse, absorbed by her presence? Or did she come by to grace the bride and groom and their guests sitting mesmerized on the rocks? Delaying their wedding ceremony until Granny continued on her way.

Granny heard, felt, touched, saw, and knew more than any other Southern Resident Orca. She had so much experience, awareness of ocean life, and history to share and teach her clan. She witnessed being shot at, captures and deaths of her relatives and community members, declining salmon, declining habitat, toxins in the water, and increasing noise, all impacting their lives and their acoustically oriented world. Yet she still breached and played in her last years, shared salmon with her family in her last days, lives on in the 5 generations and community she was part of, and our memories.