On the morning of June 16th, at 9:00 a.m., we encountered a pod of three orcas—one majestic male and two presumably females—off the coast of Madeira.
In these waters, seeing orcas is a rare gift, so we were initially just thrilled to have spent time with them. However, by 3:30 p.m., we received word from the spotters that the pod was still in the area, having moved from the east toward the west. From my experience working at sea here, orcas typically pass through quickly; they do not linger all day. Drawing on my background in marine biology and my fascination with killer whale behavior, I immediately suspected predation. I told everyone around me that they were hunting, but because mammal-hunting behavior had never been documented in Madeira, no one believed me.
When we arrived at the new location, I saw the distinct roaming behavior they were displaying and knew for a fact they were after something. I told my captain and crew to stay calm and collected because we were about to witness something unprecedented. I warned them to prepare mentally, as orca hunts can be displays of raw, blunt force, though even I didn’t realize they were targeting a marine mammal. The pod dove and vanished for fifteen minutes until I finally spotted the dorsal fin of the large male. As we approached his position, a massive reddish-brown cloud began to bloom in the deep blue water. It was the “ink” of a pygmy sperm whale—absolute proof that my intuition had been right.
For the next six minutes, the ocean erupted. I was operating on pure adrenaline, capturing photos on the surface while holding a GoPro underwater, too focused on the moment to even check my shots.
The two presumably females were doing the heavy lifting, launching the prey into the air with incredible power while the male stayed a bit further from the boat.
At one point, one of the females passed directly in front of us, and our submerged camera captured a vocalization—the first-ever recorded for orcas in Madeira. Shortly after, the other female brought the prey closer to the boat in a stunning display of the hunt’s conclusion.
When the pod finally relocated and began communicating with tail slaps, we kept our distance as our allotted sighting time had expired. It wasn’t until I looked back at my photos later that the prey was verified by the Whale Museum as a pygmy sperm whale.
This experience was deeply personal and professionally transformative; it led to the first scientific note on the subject and an interview with National Geographic. While a 2023 report mentioned orcas with a carcass, this was the first time a live predation was ever witnessed here. This pod still hasn’t been identified, and I hope that by sharing this story, someone might recognize these individuals and help us understand where these incredible hunters come from.
–Camila Dávila
On board Blue Safari Madeira
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