Whale Watching
When planning for the summer on the Lower North Shore, there were two things in particular to which I looked forward with special anticipation - one was the opportunity to see puffins and the other was to go whale watching. To date the puffins remain elusive. Little did I expect, however, not only to see whales at a respectful distance, but to be able to watch one, a Beluga, up close and for an extended period of time.
Last Friday Randy took the Nordik down the coast to St. Augustine. When we arrived at the wharf in La Tabatière, there was a little buzz about a whale that had been spotted in the harbour. As we scanned the water in the bay, people suddenly began to rush to the end of the wharf. We followed, in time to see a white whale surface briefly and blow a short distance off. Then almost immediately, there it was, beneath our feet, swimming just below the surface along the edge of the wharf. It continued for more than half an hour to swim back and forth from one side of the wharf to the other, passing around and under the boats tied up there.
I was surprised at what a thrill it was to watch -- so brilliantly snow white, so utterly at home in its environment, so beautifully formed, and so consumately graceful in all its movements. It seemed to communicate a sense of innocent joy in being able to please the knot of excited children and adults peering over the edge of the wharf.
These creatures, as I've since learned, are both playful and very curious. The younger ones in particular delight in investigating and interacting with humans. On this occasion, one of the local sailors jiggled a rope in the water. Immediately the Beluga responded: in one fluidly effortless, unhurried motion it rolled over, turned, and came over to investigate. I was captivated.
When planning for the summer on the Lower North Shore, there were two things in particular to which I looked forward with special anticipation - one was the opportunity to see puffins and the other was to go whale watching. To date the puffins remain elusive. Little did I expect, however, not only to see whales at a respectful distance, but to be able to watch one, a Beluga, up close and for an extended period of time.
Last Friday Randy took the Nordik down the coast to St. Augustine. When we arrived at the wharf in La Tabatière, there was a little buzz about a whale that had been spotted in the harbour. As we scanned the water in the bay, people suddenly began to rush to the end of the wharf. We followed, in time to see a white whale surface briefly and blow a short distance off. Then almost immediately, there it was, beneath our feet, swimming just below the surface along the edge of the wharf. It continued for more than half an hour to swim back and forth from one side of the wharf to the other, passing around and under the boats tied up there.
I was surprised at what a thrill it was to watch -- so brilliantly snow white, so utterly at home in its environment, so beautifully formed, and so consumately graceful in all its movements. It seemed to communicate a sense of innocent joy in being able to please the knot of excited children and adults peering over the edge of the wharf.
These creatures, as I've since learned, are both playful and very curious. The younger ones in particular delight in investigating and interacting with humans. On this occasion, one of the local sailors jiggled a rope in the water. Immediately the Beluga responded: in one fluidly effortless, unhurried motion it rolled over, turned, and came over to investigate. I was captivated.
posted by Garry Lovatt at 4:26 PM
<< Home