"It was one of those life-enhancing moments. As I leaned over the side of a small boat, my hand suddenly came into contact with an enormous,
prehistoric- looking head emerging from the deep and I found myself petting a California grey whale. Not only that but her three-month-old calf (some
baby at 15ft) snuggled alongside and drenched me with a burst from its double blowhole. Then three more mothers well over twice the length of our boat
surfaced with their calves.
They could have easily smashed the fragile vessel and put everyone on board in great danger... something that happened regularly during the dark days
of whaling. Grey whales 'fought like devils' according to the men who hunted them almost to extinction from boats just like this one. Now they are
protected by an international ban on whaling and something quite amazing has happened.
They seem to have forgiven the human race and to want to have fun with us. They have come to realise that small boats no longer mean them harm and are
now known as 'the friendly whales'. Being allowed into their world was just part of an adventure which took me and 26 other British travellers down
the 800-mile coast of Baja California which, rather confusingly, is in Mexico.
We swam with sea lions, came staggeringly close to blue whales - the biggest creatures on Earth - and breakfasted on bacon butties while thousands of
dolphins leapt and danced around us. Leading our group was the television zoologist and wildlife photographer Mark Carwardine, who introduced Stephen
Fry to some of the world's rarest species in BBC2's Last Chance To See. Mark also finds time to run nature tours and charters a US-registered vessel,
the aptly named Spirit of Adventure, to share with like-minded people his passion for whales and dolphins.
And, by the way, he's been a great friend for more than 30 years. He'd often urged me to join one of his trips, saying many who did found it
inspiring. But work always got in the way between February and April, which is the best time to whale-watch. This year, though, I had a gap in my
schedule and flew on the British Airways direct flight to San Diego in California, where Spirit of Adventure is based
My first thought when I saw her was: 'How on earth will we all fit in?' Though she is sleek and oceangoing, she is no cruise ship; in fact, she is
only 88ft long. We had been warned by Mark and his assistant Rachel Ashton that the 14 cabins were tiny and irregularly shaped to fit the contours of
the ship's hull. How right they were.
Up a few stairs was the airy saloon (where chef Dan prepared great food in a minuscule galley) leading to the spacious deck where we spent almost
every daylight hour focusing binoculars and cameras on the Pacific wildlife. My companions included newly-weds Steve and Julie (no honeymoon suite for
them!) and lecturer Kim, who had just been caring for a terminally ill friend. He died only days before she was due to leave, having begged her not to
cancel the trip.
Then there were Jeremy and Valerie, a fun couple back on board because they'd enjoyed it so much the first time, and a family whose teenage daughters
Louise and Rachel hadn't stopped complaining since the holiday was booked as a 50th birthday treat for mother Jacky. 'Who wants to watch whales with a
bunch of oldies?'
But the girls began to come round on our first day at sea, when we came across the unusual sight of a 'bait ball'. Millions of sardines and mackerel
were being herded by dolphins and sea lions diving below the huge shoal and ingeniously blowing bubbles that forced the fish to the surface. What
followed was a feeding frenzy shared by vast numbers of gulls and pelicans. It was a spectacular scene and two dozen or so cameras started clicking.
A few had double bunks, most had two singles, none had portholes or en suite facilities but all had drawers, shelf space, a wardrobe and a mirror. We
shared three showers and four toilets - an arrangement that worked remarkably well during the 11-night voyage. Unpacking and manoeuvring in the cabins
was an adventure in itself but we soon adapted to our cramped accommodation which, after all, was just for sleeping in.
They didn't really stop until we were on our way home. As someone remarked: 'Sea creatures must think humans communicate rather like dolphins, by a
series of clicks!' The next day, Spirit of Adventure dropped anchor off the remote San Benito islands and we went ashore to meet the local
inhabitants: elephant seals and ospreys - birds rare in the UK but two-a-penny there. Then we sailed across to Baja California, the huge finger of
desert that starts on the US border and is separated from the rest of Mexico by the Sea of Cortez.
Our stopping point was the 16-mile San Ignacio lagoon, which transforms every year into a maternity ward and nursery for grey whales before they
embark on their 5,000- mile migration to Arctic feeding grounds. As we arrived, more than 100 mothers congregated in the lower lagoon, preparing their
calves for the long and perilous journey north. Killer whales were waiting to ambush the babies off the California coast; only two in three will
survive.
But here in the lagoon, all was calm and safe and the youngsters were waiting to play as we approached in our small boats, called pangas, operated by
expert local fishermen who knew from long experience exactly which whales to deal with. The mothers would 'spy hop' - pop their entire heads out of
the water to see what was going on - and apparently decide we posed no danger. So for two days we stroked, hugged and even kissed our remarkable new
friends (their noses, by the way, feel a bit like hard-boiled eggs) and Louise and Rachel were among the first to reach out to them from our
remarkably stable little boats.
I'd expected the lagoon to be swarming with cruise ships and other whale-watchers but, perhaps fortunately for the greys and certainly for us, ours
was the only vessel. The reason, I learned, was that nothing bigger can cross the shallow entrance.
Reluctantly bidding farewell to the greys - and praying the calves we'd met would survive the orcas - we headed back to the Pacific in search of the
largest creatures ever to have lived. Despite being 90ft long, blue whales can be hard to find. But our skipper Mike Keating had spent 30 years on
their trail and within hours up went that famous cry 'There she blows!'
Soon not one but five blue whales were in our viewfinders, at times merely yards away. They turned up like London buses, though each weighed six times
as much as a Routemaster. A storm was brewing and Spirit of Adventure plunged through huge waves as she tried to keep up with them, all adding to the
excitement. Eventually, we gave up and headed for the calmer waters of the Sea of Cortez, treasuring yet another unforgettable encounter.
After we crossed the Tropic of Cancer, another cetacean X-Factor experience awaited - our first sighting of those most acrobatic of whales, humpbacks,
leaping clear of the red-hued sea as the sun set behind them. For several days we sailed the Sea of Cortez spotting humpbacks, visiting small, barren
islands and swimming with sea lions that zoomed up from the deep to brush against our bodies. On one island, we came across a creature at the furthest
end of the scale from our giants of the sea - a beautiful Xantus's hummingbird found only in Baja California and weighing just eight grams.
The eagled-eyed among us also saw a rattle-less rattlesnake (there is such a thing) slinking down a hole. Our final day looked like being an
anticlimax. There is never any guarantee that whales will appear and all morning we scanned the sea and saw nothing. But then we were privileged to
glimpse a rarely seen Bryde's whale (named, ironically enough, after a man who built a whaling factory). Then, four humpbacks and their young came
alongside and stayed with us all afternoon, while others performed their breaching tricks against the horizon.
ll in all, a perfect finale. It had been far more than just a holiday; being in the company of these creatures changes your perspective on life. Kim,
still mourning her friend, said; 'Somehow the whales have been helping me come to terms with my loss.' As for newlywed Julie, she told me: 'I know you
shouldn't cry on your honeymoon but I've been in tears a few times over the sheer joy of what we've seen.'
And a few days after returning home I got an email from Jacky, whose teenage daughters had dreaded the trip. She reported that Rachel, 16, and the
most reluctant, had been totally converted and was now switching her A-levels so she could study to become a marine biologist. That's the power of
whales!"805gregg - 6-30-2013 at 04:27 PM
According to whale experts, you are supposed to give them a wide birth and avoid all close contact, does anyone really think they want human contact?Baja Bucko - 6-30-2013 at 08:36 PM
I don't know...what other wild animal mother nudges her baby up to be petted by a human? It doesn't make sense but the experience can change one's
life. Should we be allowed to put our hands over the side and touch one of the most incredible mammals on the planet? WHY do they seek us out in SI
Lagoon? Even sitting quietly at one end of a panga while the other end has giggling excited folks scrambing to pet them, why does a youngster come up
to the quiet end, roll over on its side to take a look and then show off, seeming to say "hay, look, I can roll over and over!"
Who knows........it is the experience of a life time.danaeb - 7-1-2013 at 08:32 AM
Quote:
Originally posted by 805gregg
According to whale experts, you are supposed to give them a wide birth and avoid all close contact, does anyone really think they want human contact?
Anyone who's had contact with a playful, inquisitive gray whale calf would say yes. Definitely yes. They initiate the contact.BajaRun - 7-1-2013 at 02:06 PM
What do they feel like ? I would imagine their skin is rough, but it looks smooth in the pictures I have seen.Baja Bucko - 7-1-2013 at 05:45 PM
It feels like a cold wet smooth (except for the barnacles) rubber tire.....BajaBlanca - 7-2-2013 at 07:06 AM
They feel like very cold wet smooth rubber but the barnacles will slice open your hand....I am sure they love the human attention, you feel it when
they slowly approach the panga. Perhaps one day this close encounter will be prohibited, I consider myself ever so lucky to have touched them.
