"Whale at six o'clock!" This phrase never fails to stir excitement, even among those well-acquainted with the diverse marine mammals frolicking in our national waters.

The difference between a novice and an experienced observer lies in their deeper understanding of the subject. What kind of whale is it? Will the gulls and belugas give it away? Is there a threat to the seals? Is it sleeping or hunting? Perhaps it's peacefully feasting on benthos, or maybe it's employing a clever trick—gliding belly-up to mimic the sky for unsuspecting fish, or lurking below them, its dark back blending in with the ocean floor.

Kamchatka is magnificent, no matter which direction you approach it from. Its cosy coastal waters in the Sea of Okhotsk, endless fisheries, crossings over estuaries, and the green sea of meadow grasses eventually lead us to the Ozernovsky Ranger Station. That’s where we embark on scientific expeditions, both in winter and summer, with tourists working alongside researchers to collect data.

As the daughter of a sailor, I’m particularly drawn to the oceanic eastern coastline of the peninsula. The best time to visit is July or August, and that’s exactly when we go. There are many ways to explore this region, but for us, the boat is always the way to go.

Because of whales. In Russian Geographical Society (RGS) expeditions, everyone contributes to science, and wildlife photography isn’t just for personal keepsakes. Specialists from the Severtsov Institute of Ecology and Evolution provide clear instructions on the angles and perspectives they need to monitor the population of grey whales.

At the southern tip of the Sredinny Range, which runs north to south across Kamchatka, lies Avacha Bay. A short journey past Khalaktyrsky Beach and around the fjord-like Shipunsky Cape reveals the stunning beauty of Kronotsky Gulf. It’s not only breathtakingly picturesque but also teeming with ancient and modern life.

To the north is the Bering Sea; to the south, the First Kuril Strait, and a completely different story tied to Sakhalin. I prefer not to mix the two—each deserves its own attention.

Avacha: Facing the Pacific

Avacha Bay is a source of pride for the residents of Petropavlovsk-Kamchatsky—or simply "PK," as locals casually abbreviate their city. It’s the second-largest bay in the world and the only place in Russia where you can officially stroll along a city promenade with a view of the ocean. The Itelmens, Kamchatka’s indigenous people, may have named the bay after the abundance of chinook salmon (chavycha) in its waters. Then again, perhaps not—Avacha Bay is rich in many other species of fish as well.

Avacha Bay is almost always bustling with activity: massive port cranes, fishing vessels, cargo ships, and even a few lively seabird colonies. Nimble Zodiacs filled with chattering tourists (crab fishing!) contrast sharply with the silent grey silhouettes of Pacific Fleet ships. Vilyuchinsk is close by.

But Avacha is just the starting point. If you’re after whales, don’t expect much photographic luck here. We head further north, into the Kronotsky Gulf, setting aside extra time to visit Olga Bay.

Olga Bay: A Summer Feeding Ground

The route is dictated by the harsh boating and natural conditions of Kamchatka. There aren’t many boats suited for long journeys—40 to 50 feet in length, accommodating 6–8 passengers. We’re travelling aboard a nearly 16-meter Bavaria Cruiser 50.

In Kamchatka, yachts are always chartered with a crew—that's just how it’s done here. And for good reason. The weather is unpredictable: the thermometer rarely climbs above +10°C, but out on the water, it feels closer to freezing. More importantly, July and August often bring cloudy skies, fog, and winds averaging 7 m/s. That’s why the trip is planned to make use of sheltered anchorages in Morzhovaya Bay and Olga Bay in case of bad weather—experienced captains prefer not to stray far from these safe havens.

In 2015, Olga Bay gained nationwide recognition in Russia as one of the first sites to undergo a comprehensive coastal cleanup as part of the Federal Target Program "Elimination of Accumulated Environmental Damage."

During the post-war period, Kamchatka was actively developed—and polluted. Over a decade, more than 1,300 tonnes of industrial waste were removed from the coastline, including the most hazardous items: barrels leaking residual fuel and lubricants. Now, the bay has entered a new chapter. A permanent marine mammal research expedition from the Severtsov Institute operates here. The scientists’ findings have significantly expanded our understanding of grey whales and prompted a reevaluation of the bay’s importance in the lives of these marine giants.

In a week-long journey, Olga Bay deserves a full day on its own. The trip from Petropavlovsk-Kamchatsky takes less than 24 hours, bringing you to a land of crystal-clear rivers and lush green shores.

Previously, Kronotsky Gulf’s bays, including Olga Bay, were thought to be little more than a fast-food stop for grey whales—a quick bite for a traveller in a hurry. A pit stop where whales could grab a meal without breaking their cruising speed.

After spending the winter and raising their young along the coast of Mexico, grey whales begin their journey in early spring, travelling south through the Bering Sea toward Sakhalin. Along the way, they would stop for a quick bite in Olga Bay.

However, things are different now, as anyone observing from a boat can easily see. First, the number of whale visits has increased: during the 100-day migration period, up to 100 whales pass through the bay. Second, scientists now believe that for Kamchatka’s feeding group, Olga Bay is more than just a transit feeding ground. It’s possible that the restored bay is becoming yet another key feeding site along the whales’ epic 12,000–19,000-kilometre annual journey.

Floating Eternity

Faced with grey whales and their lineage stretching back more than 30 million years, I find myself awestruck into silence—even though I’ve already encountered bowhead whales, humpbacks, minke whales, belugas, and orcas. But grey whales...

I hesitated to admit it, but there were moments when the whale reminded me of a hippopotamus. I shouldn’t have been embarrassed.

Grey whales (also known as California or baleen whales) have retained some features of their distant terrestrial ancestors. Remarkably, these ancestors were even-toed ungulates that, during the Eocene, fully embraced life in the sea and filled the ecological niche left by extinct plesiosaurs.

Modern genetics has confirmed a close relationship between cetaceans and even-toed ungulates. In fact, they’ve now been grouped into a single monophyletic taxon: Cetartiodactyla. So, the resemblance to a hippopotamus is no coincidence.

Olga Bay is the perfect place to ponder the quirks of the animal kingdom and the mysteries of evolution. The whales feed in shallow waters, frequently surface, and are naturally curious. In short, it’s a whale watcher’s dream.

From the ranger station at Kronotsky Nature Reserve, it’s easy to set out on short excursions to observe the fascinating food chain of “brown bear—salmon spawning run.” Simply put, the shallow waters are teeming with life, making the bears’ playful interactions with the salmon especially lively. Naturally, such observations must be made from a safe distance, as determined by the accompanying inspector—whose word is law here. 

The people who work at Kronotsky Reserve are extraordinary. They have a remarkable ability to explain complex topics with simplicity and humour. We have a close partnership with the reserve, as its staff are regular collaborators on several Russian Geographical Society projects in Kamchatka.

Every time I return from Kamchatka, I’m reminded of this: once the initial impressions settle, my memories always preserve an equal balance of the peninsula’s marine and terrestrial wildlife, as well as its people. Because it’s all extraordinary—inseparable, in fact!