Now that more is known about the returning otters' impact, biologists and other advocates believe it will be widely seen in a positive light overall, much like the return of wolves to Yellowstone National Park in the U.S., where the predators helped rebalance the complex ecosystem.

Mike Willie, a hereditary chief from the coastal Kwikwasut'inuxw Nation, says he has heard some negative talk about the otters, but he sees them as a long-term benefit for the region.

He spoke to the CBC on board his boat in the waters off northern Vancouver Island, on the way to see his latest venture at an old village site on Hope Island, called Place of the Otter.

It's an idyllic spot, with a sheltered bay wrapping around a gravel beach.

Willie's company, Coastal Rainforest Safaris, was set to help revive the site as a high-end camping, or glamping, outpost this year. Large tents were to be erected on top of a new boardwalk, with tourists paying $1,000 a night to experience the region's wilderness.

The COVID-19 pandemic has delayed those plans, but it hasn't dampened Willie's enthusiasm.

"I'm excited about it. Sea otter viewing is giving First Nations a chance out here to take part in the mainstream economy."

He said with other local industries such as logging and fishing in decline, tourism is one of the few long-term bright spots.

Others share his enthusiasm. Veteran scuba diver Jackie Hildering works with the Marine Education and Research Society in Port McNeill, B.C. She specializes in photographing kelp and was keen to explore the waters near Hope Island for the first time.

As she put on her scuba gear, she promised to quickly come back with a kelp-eating sea urchin. Thirty minutes later, she returned to the surface after spotting plenty of other sea life but no urchins.

"The otters have done their work here," she said while still in the water.

"I went down thinking I'd be back in a minute. How crazy is it not to be able to find a purple urchin?"

Hildering detailed how the waters near Hope Island differ from areas where there are still no sea otters. She saw expansive kelp forests close to shore, sheltering a wide variety of fish including herring, different types of rockfish and swimming scallops.

"What I just experienced as a diver, was diversity.

"If only those worried about otters could see this," she said, connecting the underwater dots linking kelp beds to a wide variety of sea life.

It's a phenomenon that's been documented by Linda Nichol, the lead sea otter research biologist for Fisheries and Oceans Canada at the Pacific Biological Station in Nanaimo.

"It's an interesting story. It's a quite complex story, she said of sea otters.

"They have this profound and incredible role in the ecosystem where they can literally flip the ecosystem from one system to the other."

Nichol said the otters are simply playing out their evolutionary role, but it "creates conflict with people who want shellfish."

"It's a very complex issue and we'll see how it unfolds," she said.

The interaction between species was on full display as CBC News tagged along during Erin Foster's otter survey in the Queen Charlotte Strait near the northern tip of Vancouver Island in early July.

As the boat moved slowly along the shoreline, more than once those on board were caught off guard by the sudden rush of air from the lungs of a humpback whale surfacing nearby. A huff or two of breath and it would dive back into the deep in search of food.

Small bait fish such as herring and needlefish popped from the surface as they attempted to evade attackers below. Salmon, too, were jumping as they made their way along the coast to freshwater to spawn. What was seen on the surface only hinted at what was happening below, out of sight.

Relatively few people venture this far north, past the end of the roads on Vancouver Island, where the coast is harsh and wind-blown seas batter the coastline. The landscape is mostly steep and rocky, often appearing monochromatic, framed by a grey sky overhead and steely ocean below. The trees fighting for survival are stunted and gnarled, branches flattened by all-too-frequent gale-force winds.

It's a place where the constant churn of water from the open Pacific meets land, sparking countless interactions between plants, animals, algae, fish and birds. A balance where the sea otter is once again part of the mix after a long absence.

Read more from the original source:

To oblivion and back - CBC.ca