The following is a true story I wrote for a column I used to have in a local paper up here.
Make of it what you will.
Owen Atkey, a very experienced surfer, was sitting on his board 100 yards offshore, waiting for a good set of waves to arrive. The reef, called First Peak Sombrio by surfers, was grooming the swell into perfect six to eight foot peaks. He was surfing it alone, picking only the best waves, having a great session. At the same time, a half mile to the east, a large male killer whale was swimming westward, surfacing to breathe every few minutes and looking for something to eat.
The Orca was a transient, the type that feeds on marine mammals, seals and the like. Owen spotted the tall dorsal fin when the whale was a quarter mile away. Even knowing there has never been an authenticated attack on a human by a wild Orca, he noticed his heartbeat increasing. Nervously he paddled in a bit. The whale kept a steady course, heading towards Owen.
"By the time I realized he was coming in towards me it was too late to make the beach," he told me, barely an hour later. "When he got close enough we had direct eye contact, and it wasn't friendly," he continued. "He circled the reef then swam into the deeper water of the bay, cutting off my route to the beach."
The whale accelerated towards Owen, water streaming from its dorsal fin. From a distance of 30 feet it pounced, heaving its bulk into the air and hanging momentarily against the sky. With mouth open it turned downward, towards its intended meal.
"You know that old saying about your life flashes before your eyes?" Owen asked. "Well, it's true."
Instinctively Owen rolled from his board and thrust it towards the whale, all the while thinking of his parents, his brother, his girlfriend and the life he knew was now over. He knew he was going to die, yet felt no fear, just anger. If the whale was going to get him it would have to eat his surfboard first, he thought.
In midair the whale rotated and arched to the left, as it realized its mistake. Owen thought the pectoral fin would hit him hard, but it barely brushed the board. Turbulence from the thrusting flukes spun him around and tore the board from his grasp. The whale leapt once more, going away, then disappeared.
"It's funny," Owen continued, "I cannot remember paddling to the beach. When I got there I couldn't stand up and literally crawled ashore. I dinged my board on the rocks, too."
Owen was in my living room when he related this story, drinking a large tumbler of Jack Daniels. He had calmed down considerably from when he first arrived. I had never seen him so excited during the six years we had been friends, and now I knew why.
"Did anyone see this happen?" I asked, not distrusting his story ..... but still.
"Yeah," he answered. "There was this guy from Quebec there and he saw the whole thing."
Owen took another swallow and continued.
"I don't know where Sombrio Steve was but there was nobody else around except this hippy French-Canadian guy. He was interested when I showed up with my board and watched me surf. The damndest thing happened when I crawled up the beach though. He came running over, flipped through the pages of a book he had, pointed at a picture, then said two words."
" What did he say?" I asked.
"He said: Tabernac.....Orca." Owen answered.
At that he burst into uncontrollable laughter, a well-known stress relieving reaction. I couldn't help myself and joined in. Tears rolled down his face before he regained control.
"I guess he was stoked to see such an event," I said.
"He seemed excited," Owen replied. "He couldn't speak much English though so he mostly just kept pointing at the book and saying Orca, Orca."
Owen left for home shortly thereafter and I contemplated his story. It could have happened I realized. After all, there had been two other incidents of Orcas swimming in towards surfers at Sombrio that I knew of, although nothing quite as dramatic as this.
Two days later I was in the Jordan River Hotel when a scraggly hippy type walked in. He reeked of woodsmoke, a sure sign he had been living on the beach. I approached him.
"Sombrio?" I asked.
"Yes, Sombrio," he replied.
I pantomimed a surfer and asked if he had seen my friend surfing a couple of days before. He nodded his head.
"I see surfer and big Orca jump on him," he added.
He tried to explain more but I thanked him and left.
I realize most people believe Orcas to be wonderful and intelligent creatures. They are all of that for sure, but they are also capable of making a mistake, recognizing it and making an instant correction.
You can ask my friend Owen about that..