Could orcas be using something similar to “tit-for-tat” with humans? 🐋
I’ve been thinking about why wild orcas almost never attack humans.
Obviously, humans aren’t part of their normal prey repertoire. But orcas are highly social, intelligent animals capable of learning from experience and from each other.
Imagine an orca that was stranded and rescued by humans. It could potentially learn that humans are capable of both harming and helping.
This made me think about repeated-game theory, especially the tit-for-tat strategy:
Start by cooperating. If the other side cooperates, keep cooperating. If they become aggressive, respond. Then return to cooperation if they do.
I’m NOT suggesting orcas consciously calculate game theory. I’m wondering whether evolution, memory and social learning could produce a similar behavioral strategy toward humans.
In other words:
“I know humans can be dangerous, but they can also help me. So I won’t attack first. I’ll observe what they do.”
And if individual experiences with humans can influence behavior and be socially transmitted within a pod, could this help explain their extraordinary tolerance toward us?
Has anyone actually studied orcas and humans from this kind of repeated-game / reciprocity perspective?
Ello. Are Wolves and Orcas Convergent Evolutions? I love both orcas and wolves and was curious if they were convergent evolutions. They both are a lot in common, but the one says yes and the other no?
Recently, A55 "Echo," a 36-year-old male Northern Resident orca, was seen in poor condition, as first reported by Jared Towers. Though it is sad to see him in such a state, the past month and a half has allowed insights into how his matriline (family), the A34s, is dealing with his condition. There are also fascinating observations of two interactions between these Northern Resident orcas and humpback whales, neither of which seemed to be very friendly.
The following article was written by Alexandra Morton. As a note, there appears to be a mix-up in the article. The matriarch of the A67s is A67 "Eclipse," rather than A62 "Misty":
36 year old Echo (A55) surfacing low in the water showing signs of poor health
Fifty-one-year-old matriarch Simoom (A34), daughter of Scimitar (A12), and her family spent have most of 43 days within our acoustic range. They arrived on July 13, vanished on August 23, returned on August 26 and every morning we wake hoping they are still here. A few days after their arrival, Jared Towers, who keeps track of the health of the orca of BC, warned us that his photometry analysis revealed adult male A55 is dangerously thin. Last year Jared noticed the same for another adult male, I76 and that whale died a few weeks later so his news was alarming. Thirty-six-year-old Echo (A55) is not in as bad a condition as I17, but he is close. The whale watching industry was informed and collectively they are giving him extra space so as not to interfere with his potential, however slim, to recover.
Over the course of 43 days we have had the opportunity to intensely observe this family via telescope binoculars from the bluff where we established our research camp. We have been privy to how this family is coping with a member that is so ill as they go about their lives, feeding on an abundance of salmon. Some days Echo (A55) has not moved synchronously with his family, remaining alone and non-directional while the others orbit around hm. Acts of synchrony begin with an orca’s first breath. Newborn orca know to breathe only when mother breathes. This protects them sucking in water. In the few births observed, mothers instantly alter their respiration rate to match the needs of the baby. This act of rising to the surface to exhale simultaneously with close family members continues at intervals throughout the lives of many orca, particularly between northern resident mothers and sons. So seeing this whale spending so much time on his own is concerning.
This summer we have observed days where the A34s have remained highly stationary for hours, not typical of the restless orca. During these intervals family members clustered tightly floating and spy-hopping so close together they were likely touching at times. Sometimes several whales lifted their eyes above the water simultaneously in a spyhop facing different directions their white throats catching the sunlight. As they drifted on the surface together in the tide, matriarch Simoom was often seen attending to her ailing son.
At times we could see clearly that she was chasing fish, presumably salmon, rising high out of the water, spray visible from her fast-moving fin as she banked sharply to the right, then left, then in a tight circle. Her son stayed close presumably receiving food from his mother. Echo’s sister Rainy (A96) was doing the same, passing fish to her brother even though she also has a young 3-year-old male baby, Maple (A132) to feed. These two mothers, Simoom and Rainy frequently became a distinct group from the rest of their family with their sons Echo and Maple. Simoom’s oldest daughter Misty (A62) and her four sons split early in the season and left the area. Simoom’s younger son, 22-year-old Hope, moves between the social gathering of his sister Misty’s family and his mother as she attends to his brother. At times Simoom and Rainy float side by side oriented towards Echo as he meanders unconnected from the family.
It is incredible how quickly healthy killer whales can gather themselves and disappear after spending unhurried hours spread over a wide area foraging, but for A55, such athleticism does not seem readily available. As we tracked this family, observing him far behind for a significant amount of time, suddenly two females appear at his side. Had he caught up? Or had they waited for him?
On one occasion, the family was spread out, nondirectional, a potential indicator of foraging. They were in a part of Blackfish Sound we have seen them use this way many times this season. A55, with his distinctive low energy surfacings was among them. Panning binoculars back to north, A55 was identified with a female, almost certainly his mother, approaching. When A55 and A34 eventually arrived on the outskirts of where the rest of the family was, the scattered family assembled themselves into a line side-by-side all abreast. Even from several kilometres away on the bluff, it was clear each whale was spaced about a body length apart, all facing west, and A34 and A55 were incorporated into this formation. While orca use this formation to sleep, hence the name “resting line”, this synchronized episode lasted only seven or eight minutes, the whales rising and diving together side-by-side before disbanding to resume foraging. This moment of alignment by a family, surrounding one member in poor health as he joined them stood out to us.
There have been two exceptional interactions between the Simoom’s family and humpback whales. The day before the A34s left for a few days Misty’s family (A67s) kept moving towards Queen Charlotte Strait, while Simoom and her family stayed in Blackfish Sound. By 1700, the 67s left our field of view travelling northwest in Queen Charlotte Strait towards open water, while the others remained nondirectional in Blackfish Sound. Misty’s 14-year-old son, A102 fluke and pec slapped repeatedly as they departed, then “surfed” multiple times on the wake of a cruise ship. His family matched his speed and they disappeared to the west. As they left a large female, likely Simoom, was observed floating, pointing towards Echo (A55) who was consistently nondirectional. This part of the family didn’t leave A55 behind to travel west with the others.
Suddenly Misty’s family was back, right below the bluff just outside the kelp. They were in a tight, somewhat staggered (not entirely abreast) formation and moved directly towards a humpback that busily scooping up the tiny young-of-the-year herring so abundant in the area the last year hears. To our surprise one orca surfaced within two body lengths of the humpback, pointing right at it on a collision course. The orca continued towards the humpback, refusing to deviate around it and it was the humpback that turned sharply raised its flukes and dove. When the humpback surfaced abruptly, going the opposite way it trumpeted loudly. Humpback whales are at risk of being hit by boats because they don’t seem interested in moving out of the way for anything, but in this case it felt it had to take evasive action. Were the A67s bothered by their inability to travel west and took it out on the humpback?
The second observation was more complicated. It began with a humpback whale propelling itself out of the water at a 45 angle, slapping its long chin on the water’s surface as it approached A55 who was stationary moving slow and non-directional. When the humpback was quite close, A34 rushed back towards A55, heading directly for the humpback. Looking through telescopic binoculars there was a confusion of humpback fluke tips, an orca pectoral fin, and perhaps dorsal and white water. A34 appeared to be interacting with the humpback. The humpback bobbed straight up several times its back rising vertically, not the normal breathing roll. A55 moved away, but the humpback raised its head above the water and then took off fast towards A55. A34 surfaced approximately one or two body lengths ahead of A55 and the humpback bobbed up vigorously between them. By now it was clear the humpback was intentionally interfering with the orca in what appeared to be an aggressive way. At one point the humpback lay on its side with a pec fin held aloft pointing forward at an angle. A34 spyhopped facing the humpback as it was thrashing on the surface. Each time the orca moved off the humpback pursued them. At one point it seemed possible that A55 made physical contact with the humpback there was so much splashing, thrashing and tiny glimpses of unidentifiable whale bodies. After about 10 minutes of this, A55s younger brother A80 appeared and he and A55 flanked the whale with A34 ahead of it. At that point the humpback moved off, and the orca dispersed and returned to foraging, except A55 who didn’t move much for the next 5 hours.
We are hearing suggestions of vocal patterns, protocols that may exist between A clan orca and the bodies of water they occupy. These observations make us wonder how do orca perceive “space”. Why do they appear mark transitions between Queen Charlotte Strait/Blackfish Sound/ Weynton/ Blackney with their calls? How is Blackfish Sound so different to them that they punctuate entry with calls? Or are we so biased by our sense of boundaries that we see something that doesn’t exist?
We are watching so many wild lives from the bluff. The murres have moved in, gangs of roving Pacific white-sided dolphins pass through in waves, Sabine gulls suddenly appeared for a day, the humpbacks are using the tide to catch herring. Fourteen young ravens are wheeling overhead as I write sorting out their place in raven society.
We grown into a solid team these past two months, two more to go for this season. We are surrounded by a community of whale people who care deeply about all the life in these waters and are highly collaborative with information about the whales as we pull in information from a growing diversity of eyes on the water. We are in the territory of the ‘Namgis who walk their talk and protect salmon in ways that are not easy, but appear to be meaningful to the fish. Early salmon counts in the Broughton suggest the action of the Broughton Nations is healing this place, even as so many other places are suffering.
Thank you. To be continued.
Project Fathom field team - Grace Guiney, Olivia Murphy, Alexandra Morton
This post is originally from Alexandra Morton's Patreon, published as Project Fathom’s 2026 field study is in its 9th week: "Project Fathom’s 2026 field study is in its 9th week, 950 hours of observation from a bluff 60m above sea level. This field study is a small component of the overall Fathom project which will also analyze years of recordings of captive A-clan orca, Corky and Orky, as well as historic recordings from wild whales in the Broughton Archipelago, before the northern resident orca were displaced from that region in the 1990s, as well as recordings made at Bere Point by Troy Bright and hopefully other recordings."
Biologist Alexandra Morton is a long-standing and prominent advocate for the conservation of orcas and salmon in the Pacific Northwest. I suggest checking out her Patreon!
