We pushed off the dock as snowflakes swirled gently in the afternoon breeze. With eager eyes and warm layers, we set out toward the sheltered waters of the Southern Gulf Islands, giving the winds in the Strait time to settle. But Mother Nature wasn’t the only one dictating our timing.

Ahead of us, a powerful tug carefully guided a massive log boom through the narrow, tidal gateway of Dodd Narrows. This historic passage is one of the busiest and most dynamic marine chokepoints on the coast. With strong currents that can exceed 9 knots, Dodd Narrows acts like a funnel, pulling nutrient-rich waters through its sandstone and limestone corridors. That constant mixing creates a buffet line beneath the surface, making it a prime fishing ground for marine mammals.

As we waited our turn to transit, we were greeted by our first pinnipeds of the afternoon: a chorus of barking California Sea Lions hauled out on the log booms near the Harmac mill. Their sleek, chocolate-brown fur glistened under a mix of sleet and sea spray. Watching them shake off the cold, we couldn’t help but wonder if they were missing the California sunshine.

Each year, these sea lions migrate north from their breeding grounds in California to feast in the rich waters of British Columbia. For them, this is less a winter getaway and more an all-you-can-eat seafood tour.

Once the tug cleared the Narrows, it was our turn. We slipped between the rocky walls, admiring the layered sandstone and limestone formations sculpted by millennia of tidal force. Emerging into Trincomali Channel, we cruised along the southern end of Salt Spring Island, weaving between scattered islets and scanning carefully for the telltale blow or splash on the horizon.

Curiosity led us northeast toward the lively waters of Active Pass. Here, the smaller cousins of sea lions, the Harbour Seals, dotted the rocky shorelines. Silvery heads popped up, watching with wide, curious eyes before slipping silently below the surface. Above, Bonaparte’s gulls fluttered overhead while cormorants worked together in tight feeding flocks.

With the snow easing and the wind calming, we ventured out into the Strait of Georgia. Vancouver’s distant high-rises shimmered on the horizon beneath snow-capped coastal mountains. As we approached the churning currents of Porlier Pass, Vanessa, our onboard naturalist, briefly retreated to Kula’s heated cabin, but not for long.

Soon we gathered again out on the back deck beside Canoe Islet, a well-known haul-out for the world's largest sea lion species: the mighty Steller Sea Lion. Adult males can weigh over 1,000 kilograms (2,500 pounds) and stretch nearly 3 metres long, true heavyweights of the pinniped world.

Interestingly, the skull structure of a Steller Sea Lion shares similarities with that of a brown bear. Though they are very different animals, this resemblance is an example of convergent evolution, where unrelated species develop similar traits because they’ve adapted to comparable ecological roles. Powerfully built jaws and robust skulls help both predators handle tough prey in demanding environments.

As we drifted downwind, the unmistakable scent of a busy sea lion haul-out reached us, a reminder that sometimes it’s best to keep moving! In the distance, a juvenile Bald Eagle soared past, and Vanessa quickly captured the moment for the blog.

We debated tucking back into the Gulf Islands but chose instead to continue scanning mid-Strait. The red roofs of Entrance Island appeared like a mirage as we edged closer to Nanaimo. Still not ready to call it a day, Captain Rodrigo guided us north toward Neck Point Park for one final look.

Despite our determination and careful searching, the whales remained elusive this time. That’s the nature of wildlife, wonderfully wild and always on their own schedule. As always, each of our guests received a voucher to join us again, because every trip is another opportunity, and our Salish Sea residents are always worth the wait.

Fingers crossed we’ll see them next time. 🐋

Photos below taken by Vanessa Vereschahen.

February 20, 2026 - Sleet and Sea Lions in the Salish Sea