There is not much that talk of seeing whales can´t trump.
Even though it was the end of the season and the whales were departing for the Antarctic, we were excited to go to Puerto Lopez just in case we could bump into one or two of them on their way there.
The bay on which the small town nestles is home to a few out of season tourists and a flotilla of fishing boats. They bob in the swell in their dozens, seeming to do nothing more than provide a roost for the pelicans and frigate birds that wait for the nets to be emptied.
The whale watching tour departed from the beach – there is no jetty.
We waded out to the rather arrogantly named “Amazing – I”, suggesting that “Amazing II” lurked somewhere close by, just waiting for its moment in the sun. The waves broke on the bow as the skipper reversed the boat into the shallows with all the delicacy that two 150 horsepower engines can muster.
Needless to say that we got wet but that didn´t seem to matter as the warm wind blew off shore and the prospect of communing with the planet´s largest mammals beckoned.
We waded out to the rather arrogantly named “Amazing – I”, suggesting that “Amazing II” lurked somewhere close by, just waiting for its moment in the sun. The waves broke on the bow as the skipper reversed the boat into the shallows with all the delicacy that two 150 horsepower engines can muster.
Needless to say that we got wet but that didn´t seem to matter as the warm wind blew off shore and the prospect of communing with the planet´s largest mammals beckoned.
We were roaring past the shore surf in no time and perhaps starting to pine for the calm inland waters as the Pacific swell started to rise. When it reached two metres, the land disappeared intermittently between the waves. When the throttle opened the boat leapt forward at a surprising pace and we were permanently out of sight of land in minutes.
The boat planed in the flat water and surged over the swells that rolled toward us every few seconds.
The boat planed in the flat water and surged over the swells that rolled toward us every few seconds.
Life in a washing machine must have been more comfortable as the first timers turned an oily shade of green and the rest of us grabbed onto something solid to brace ourselves with.
Suddenly the engine cut out. There was a ripple of concern and then the mother and calf surfaced a few metres away from the boat.
What felt like a small, fragile craft, adrift in a massive ocean, felt so much smaller. The barnacle crusted behemoths rose from the water, showed their backs and then slid beneath the surface again, as a taster of what was to come.
Humpback whales can remain submerged for half an hour and sometimes only surface for a few seconds to breath. So close to the boat, the blow holes roared as they expelled air and the plumes of spray from mother and calf fell upon us in a refreshing substitute for actually touching them as they passed.
We were lucky as they surfaced and dived repeatedly around the boat. When they appeared further away, the skipper was quick to get us there and when the first pair eventually departed, another soon appeared.
We were lucky as they surfaced and dived repeatedly around the boat. When they appeared further away, the skipper was quick to get us there and when the first pair eventually departed, another soon appeared.
These giant marine mammals evoke something deep in us.
They bear no resemblance to us and live in a different world but somehow their warm blooded existence in the cold depths strikes a chord. Their live young seem so vulnerable despite their enormous size. The tenderness of their mothering seems so familiar that it seems entirely appropriate to jump in with their 50 ton bulk and stroke their giant forms, regardless of the danger.
When they were gone we were left excited, fulfilled but slightly sad.
All I wanted was to see them again.
No comments:
Post a Comment