Trepidation, or will she find her sea legs?

Let's go see the whales!

Some five years ago a co-worker and I attended a conference in San Diego. We bought tickets to go on a small boat to watch the whales along the coast. Unfortunately the beautiful weather we had been experiencing for days turned nasty and no boat would go out that day, our only opportunity.  Our money was refunded. Our hopes dashed. [There is a bit of a lie here. I had been terrified, but willing.]

The weather during this conference just ended - in Anaheim - was lousy. Overcast sky or pouring rain greeted us every day. We scarcely left the conference center anyway, but it did not bode well for the extra few days I elected to remain in "sunny California" to visit YC*.

Again I spoke those words, "Let's go see the whales?"  I threw out all kinds of options for our short time-off. And my fellow travelers took the bait.

Of course, other than sturdy shoes and motion sickness medicine (OK, I already acknowledged my "wuss-ness" above) I brought only conference-attending and "mom" attire. I was not prepared for cool/windy boat travel.

After dinner last night we shopped for warm clothing - hat and gloves and jacket. The weather forecasters reported that overnight the weather would break in our favor. So we purchased our whale watching tickets and slept.

I addressed DH at breakfast, "I approach this adventure with trepidation." He smiled, chuckled, and changed the subject as we finished our coffee.

Then we dressed in our warm clothing, picked up YC, and headed south to Long Beach to the dock near the Aquarium of the Pacific. http://www.aquariumofpacific.org/ .

We arrived on time, lined up and waited to board our boat. Unfortunately, we were not close enough to the front of the line to get  3 seats on the upper deck. We only managed one. But DH said that we would do best to be on the upper deck. So one member of our party would sit while the others stood at the railing.

When I went to the railing soon after we got underway, I slipped my camera strap through the right thumb hole of the middle layer of clothing, knotting it to the opening (didn't want to go through what was to come and have no photos to prove it). Then I gripped the railing for dear life and did not move from the spot until we turned for the harbor.

DH made suggestions to assist me in finding my "sea legs." but I could only watch the ocean and responded accordingly. Inside the harbor, within the protection of the longest breakwater in the U.S., the ride was relatively smooth. Of course we were moving slowly as we passed sailboats and tugboats. I thought to myself, "This is nothing. I worried for naught."

We saw a freighter and an oil tanker anchored outside the harbor and a tall ship moving slowly just off our starboard.

The captain reported a swell outside the breakwater. In case you are not aware a "swell" in ocean terms is not SWELL. It means that the second you pass the man made harbor protection you are on a roller coaster ( I like the comparison to a bucking bronco too so I add it here in case that description clarifies the experience better for you).

YC kept suggesting I sit down. I knew that would be a mistake (I would have to somehow traverse the 3 feet from railing to seat without falling down or worse). I clutched the railing bare-handed for a better grip. My feet tried to force themselves through the soles of my shoes to grip the deck. I bent my knees according to DH's suggestion and tried to move with the rocking of the boat and the rolling of the sea.

We slammed hull to water** as we breached each swell, children shrieking and then giggling. The captain was in a hurry.

We headed out to the spot where an earlier tour had seen whales. They had seen lots of whales - Fin whales*** (although we prefer to call them Finn whales). And the crew expected to seem them still feeding in the area.

We watched and waited. We listened to the lovely naturalist/conservationist/scientist/marine biologist (sorry, I was trying not to fall overboard as we crashed over the "swells" so I don't remember his credentials) talk about this and that,  and tell us what kind of creatures we might see.

And then we heard the cry, "There she blows!"

Plumes of salt spray rose in the air - unmistakable.

The whales were here.

While the Fin whale is generally solitary, or at least rarely seen with more than one or two companions, we were seeing blows, all around us. And they estimated at least 9 Fin whales were in the immediate area.

The captain**** navigated the boat closer to one small group of whales and we would spy another off in the distance. I surprised myself spotting two off to the right as everyone was watching those in front of the boat, but then I grew up watching - competing with my siblings to be the first to spy some animal or other on family hunting/camping trips.

We finally were within 50 feet of a couple of them - they would blow, and blow, and then almost fully surface preparing for a deep dive (unlike other whales, the Fin whale does not usually show its fluke as it dives). And the watchers on the boat would exclaim and sigh and strain for another view.

It was wonderful. It was worth braving the pitching of the ocean (and continued wobbly legs this evening) to see these awesome creatures.

We also saw pelicans and seagulls and birds I will try to identify from blurry images I may have captured in spite of the movement of the boat. YC was the first to spot a sea otter who floated on his back next to the boat. At  different points in the trip we were approached by three different seals. They seem to glide through the water with joyful abandon.

The trip back to harbor was deceptive. We were no longer fighting the swells, but traveling with them. We would see a rise in the water overtake us and move beyond the boat creating the illusion that we were floating in place. Only the approach of the cliffs, and lighthouses, and ships anchored off-shore indicated that we were making any headway.

As we left the boat we tried to signal to the people waiting to board next. We gave them thumbs-up and nodded our heads. Yes, yes, the whales are out there. The whales are waiting for you.



NOTES:

*Youngest child suggested I call her dearest youngest child, however that would be silly as (dear as she is) she is our ONLY youngest child (a same-aged sibling being 8 minutes older) and it would give her the acronym DYC which is simply not appropriate.

**Thank heavens for dimenhydrinate http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dimenhydrinate! I took a dose as directed while others merely wish they had.

*** See http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Fin_whale 

Also see http://www.mobydickthewhale.com/cetology/fin-back-whale.htm wherein Herman Melville writes of this species "The Fin-Back is not gregarious. He seems a whale-hater, as some men are man-haters. Very shy; always going solitary; unexpectedly rising to the surface in the remotest and most sullen waters; his straight and single lofty jet rising like a tall misanthropic spear upon a barren plain; gifted with such wondrous power and velocity in swimming, as to defy all present pursuit from man; this leviathan seems the banished and unconquerable Cain of his race, bearing for his mark that style upon his back." Book 1 Chapter 3, Moby Dick

****The captain (Captain Carl Mayhugh) maintains a blog where he posts sighting information and photos. Our trip was Feb. 9, 2013. He took some lovely photos of the whales. http://blog.coastal-explorer.com/2013/02/09/fin-whales-and-dolphins.aspx


[A trip to the aquarium followed the whale watching - where we fed the lorikeets (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lories_and_lorikeets), petted the sharks and rays, and stood mesmerized by the jelly fish - God's lava lamps (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lava_lamp).]

Photos will follow. I must edit as some are of the deck, some are at odd angles, some...