Something 'specially special...

And from a cliff top is proclaimed

The gathering of the souls for birth,

The trial by existence named,

The obscuration upon earth.

Robert Frost

(1874-1963)

This place I still call Home is home too, for part of the year, to the migrating Southern Right whales who, like me, are always drawn back. The whole bay has been designated a sanctuary and so they are safe from boat-based disturbance and free to lollygag for months en route from their feeding grounds in Antarctica to our warmer waters, where the Atlantic and Indian oceans meet. The whales take up residence here between June and November each year and because of the geography of the town - on an elevated coastal shelf between mountains and sea - one is placed high enough over the ocean at most points in the bay to see them as they lounge or frolic in the deep clear waters close to shore. It makes for one of the best land-based whale watching opportunities in the world and even though we've seen them here every year for as long as I can remember, I never fail to be awed and privileged at the sight of them.

The week before last my family and I were sitting in the front room of my sister's house, having a cup of morning tea, when we noticed a whale not far off shore who seemed especially frisky. She started to breach high out of the water and then jumped again, and again, and again. Given that these girls weigh up to eighty tons, launching her body out of the water once is no mean feat but to do so four times in a row is remarkable and we were literally cheering. The females are generally longer than the males, although otherwise very difficult to tell apart from the shore, and I only know that this was a female because of what we saw later.  My brother fortunately had the wherewithal to grab my mum's tiny compact, and we watched her turn around and then jump back three times. It seemed something special was going on.

We were all clustered at the window marvelling at what, even in a bay where breaching whales are not an uncommon sight, was a spectacular display. We then heard a loud clapping sound... and noticed this...

What we could hear was the sound of the tail smacking down on the water repeatedly - an activity known as lobtailing, believed to be a form of communication although exactly how and what it communicates we aren’t quite sure. This was especially vigorous clapping though, as if something momentous was being announced. After a few more claps, we saw this...

Head and tail out of the water at the same time... very unusual. At this point we were all pulling on shoes, abandoning tea cups, snatching up cameras and small children (yes, in that order) and running out through the front gate, along the cliff paths and out on the rocks to the water's edge. My sister got there first...

As soon as we arrived we figured out what was happening and took a seat (along with the young French couple who were already there) as close to the edge as we could... this isn't something one sees every day. In fact, I've only witnessed it once before in all the years.

Two females... only a few feet off shore, one of them a midwife.

The frenetic tail activity soon died down and then the slightly smaller of the females moved off a little way. The tail-slapper, who remained closest to us, blew a huge gust of air from her blowhole (it sounds a bit like an elephant or a horse’s humpff, only much deeper, breathier, and very resonant in the curve of the rocks) and submerged slightly. And, a few moments later, we saw this tiny (well relatively tiny, at only about 5 metres long) baby whale nudged gently to the surface to take its first breath...

How awesome is that?!

Honestly, it's one of the most incredible things I’ve witnessed and I only wish I could share the full experience with you. My little camera and I are just not up to capturing the scene properly and it's one of those occasions when I wish I had a better lens and more skill and when the human eye shows just what a remarkable thing it is. We could see through the clean water to what was happening below us so clearly and it felt as if we might reach out and touch, they were so close. My brother also shot some video and, when I've figured out how, I will upload it for those who are interested.

It was about more than just what we could see though and in the end trying to photograph it seemed strangely incidental. The sound, the smell of the sea, and the sense of being connected to something bigger, universal, all part of it. Mostly we were content to just be there, in the moment, and soak in the experience. We sat quietly on the rocks afterwards for about an hour and watched the mother guide the little one slowly back and forth as it learnt to swim and then take its first shallow dive to a few metres below the water. These whales gestate for 12 months and have a calf every one to three years and thanks to the recently upheld whaling ban, are slowly increasing in numbers again after being hunted to near extinction. A little known fact about whale babies is that, as mammals, they are often born with a fine covering of hair that eventually disappears over the first year. The calf spends this time with its mother, learning everything she has to share about being one of the most majestic and incredible creatures on the planet.

This little calf seemed to be swimming quite confidently within about half an hour and during this time, other whales from across the bay swam over, we assume to say hi to the newest member of the family. A playful seal came past and clapped its appreciation and congratulations too. And then they all moved off.

We saw the mother and calf several times in the same spot after that, and a few days later, when most of the family had returned to their own corners of the country, my sister and I were down at Rob's beach with the children and we saw them again, very close to shore... just us, and them. Taking in the sunshine.

Something especially special.

It's of this and all the kind wishes that wrap around me that I'll be thinking as I head back to my office today, to help get me through the harder moments of having to deal with certain situations and individuals... 

Deep breath... Go!

[photographs by me and BG, we have yet to see my sister's but I am hopeful that she'll have some good ones to share with us too]