Category: cruising

March 2202 #2 – Humpback Whale Concert Hall

Vicki Aireus at the wheel

This is a recording of humpback whales singing in a canyon whose walls bounce sound around like a concert hall. It seems that whales appreciate a venue with great acoustics too! Their operatic pyrotechnics are thrilling as they vibrate through my chilled dew-soaked body in the middle of the night floating on the Sea of Cortes. I’m back in Los Frailes this time in a different sailboat with a different captain. She’s a skipper who has been sailing her 45 ft Morgan ketch around the Sea of Cortes mostly solo for the past 4 years.

Actually we aren’t back in Los Frailes yet. It was our destination but that afternoon the boat’s diesel engine overheated and capitane Vicki shut her down immediately. We spend the day troubleshooting; replacing hoses, tightening screws and listening to every sound. As night creeps in Vicki declares work done for the day to be continued next morning. So we’re floating on the calm seas off the East Cape of Baja California Sur. Good time to drop the hydrophone. Whale voices rise up and envelope us. We are enthralled and calmed. “I’m turning in” Vicki heads down to the aft cabin. I find myself on night watch soaked, exhausted and in love with the undulating stars in the black sky.

Just above the eastern horizon Venus is bright. Orange Mars attends her on one side and dimmer Scorpio on the other. As I watch 2 shiny yellow spots emerge from the sea. They swell into horns and then become a bright bowl floating on the the water. It’s the crescent moon rising out of the ocean! The whales’ songs fade with the starlight as dawn brightens the sky.

When Vicki wakes up we discover that the engine shutdown was caused by flotsam and jetsam clogging up the raw water intake. It’s no big deal and a common problem.

What was clogging the water intake

 

After clearing the intake and hoses and tightening up the water maker belt which was making disturbing noises we get underway again and make it to Frailes to anchor and snooze. In the morning I take the kayak to paddle a surf landing on the beach and freedive along the NW shore. The constant wind and waves stir up the sandy bottom. Visibility is about 5 meters in the silty water. However it’s fun to follow a herd of parrot fish around in the surging surf.

 

We spend a couple of days in Frailes recovering our energy. scanning for whales and listening for whalesong. We see a few whales but not the busy nursery of Moms and calves that I had hoped to encounter. “let’s retrace our track to where we heard the whales and find them again” I suggest. We motor out along our track for a few hours but don’t hear anything. “I want to head back” Vicki says. I would like to stay and give it more time but it takes a lot of patience to be with whales. Mostly it’s long stretches of waiting. So we start to head north in the late afternoon. There’s a little bit of breeze. “I’m gonna raise up the main” Vicki says as she unties Rhiannon’s yellow sail cover. “I’ll leave the hydrophone down while we’re sailing” I say. We rig it off the stern and hear whalesong through my speaker. “I think it’s getting louder” I shout ” Is that a whale that just breached off our beam about 400meters?”  We are sailing along Cabo Pulmo a couple of miles offshore as the sound amplifies.  We zone out to healing sounds of whales singing and ocean waves washing over the hydrophone cable.

It sounds like the ocean is breathing.

June 2020 #1 – Salty Dogs of the Salish Sea

Aahh! A rare perfect breeze for a downwind sail. One broad reach from Cortes Reef to Drew Harbour under mainsail alone affords us 2 1/2 hours of relaxed pleasure. We find a great place to anchor and spend a delightful quiet night on the hook.

Of course there is always another repair job sneaking down the rigging of a sailboat. This go ’round it’s the forestay and jib furler that need adjusting. It’s the 3rd day we’ve been attempting to loosen the nut on the roller furler that will allow us to tighten up the forestay. Terry’s super strong wrists twist the nut against my vicegrip assisted countertwist on the adjoining nut but nothing budges. We even borrow penetrating oil from a retired couple from Victoria on another sloop to no avail.

Oh well, time to look for whales, tight nuts be damned! “There are 2 whales in Heriot Bay” says Hawkeye Terry, “1 tail down – couldn’t see who it was. Let’s get out of the harbour and float around. Maybe they’ll come up” And they do – about 250m out further. we keep them in sight as we head towards the Breton Islands. “Are they fishing?” I ask “They’re doing long dives” Then we lose sight of them – stealth whales! Amazing how 2  40 ton creatures can disappear so completely.

“Let’s head up to Evan’s Bay and see if John and Tom around” I suggest. So NE it is. We catch sight of our 2 whales further on down the channel but we’re too far away now to catch up with them. Besides, I’ve wanted to get back to Evans Bay for the past year. As we round the point and approach the dock it’s looking fully occuppied with sailboats. There’s a pistachio and cream-coloured steel hulled sloop “Silvaticus” as well as a handsome 40 footer rigged for offshore.

As we approach we see John, the salty dog whose tales of sailing the BC coast enthralled us last year. “Is there room for us?” We call. “Oh yeah” calls John “I’ll move this runabout back and you can sneak in in front.” “Thanks John” We tuck in nose first and hop off to greet John and his 12 yr old granddaughter who promptly climbs the mast of Silvaticus in bare feet.

John might buy the sloop from Chris who is sailing around the Salish Sea looking for land to buy where he can plant a hazelnut orchard. He’s investigated most of the islands for land deals during the past few years. Chris knows of a year ’round dock and cabin on North Rendezvous Island, a location I’ve been wanting to check out this year. “Pete and Karen are looking for people they want to live beside – not the general recreational market. Make an offer. The dock is good but the island tends to get “Buted”. Getting “Buted” means getting hit by the bone rattling cold outflow winds from Bute inlet.  Evans Bay also gets riled up by the winds from Bute as we experienced last year.

Chris has studied and worked in a plethora of diverse fields. His latest passion is nut trees but he is a general arborist. He studied anatomy for 5 years to become a coroner and deisel mechanics so he could fix the engine of his boat independently. He’s also worked in the oil patch. In the northern “man camps”  the guys have everything from laundry to house cleaning to meals and entertainment supplied for them. Listening to Chris share stories of the lifestyle – huge salaries, no obligations, no family life, little incentive to work or to save – I can understand the strain this unbalanced existence puts on their wives, their children and the men themselves. Many don’t know how to manage their lives or free time and spend their off-work hours in bars with lots of cash to spend. Chris says a lot of those guys would be completely lost without those high paying jobs where you just do what you’re told and never have to think for yourself. I’ve heard some of this before but this is not the news that resource companies like oil, mining, logging etc want to publicize about the downside of that boom and bust far from home lifestyle.

So how do folks in more remote areas make a living? Currently John’s son-in-law is working for DFO on prawn boats up north and another couple are planting trees up north as well. Memories of living on Nelson Island in the 1970s and working treeplanting contracts resurface – so many great stories.

 

May 2020 #2 – First Humpback Whale Sail

It’s finally our first cruise of the season. Our inflatable dinghy is held together mostly by glue, epoxy, 5200 and lots of repair hours. We offer prayers to the gods of small appliances “Please let him make it through another whale season.”  SV Blue Parrot is so far in pretty good shape. Unfortunately she hasn’t grown any over the Winter – still too small for Giant Terry.

We enjoy a few days at anchor in a beautiful bay to relax and get back into the rhythm of weather and tides. There is no cell or internet service in the Bay. Our VHF radio intermittently transmits weather statements from Environment Canada. Reception depends on Blue P’s position in the arc of her swing around her anchor.

We weigh anchor in light rain showers. An occasional breakthrough of sunrays through rainclouds plays rainbow prisms over dark mountains with snowy peaks. A report of a humpback whale near Cortes Reef comes in. “Let’s Go!” We’re on our way through Baker Passage when Terry shouts “Orca! They’re coming this way. 3, no 4 of them. I’ll get my camera.” He hands off the tiller to me after I’ve quickly grabbed my hydrophone gear. ”

They’re traveling really fast.” Terry announces. “They’re through the passage. Maybe they’re going to the rubbing beach – no they’re headed across to the mainland” I drop the hydrophone anyway in case the orca are vocalizing or communicating with others we can’t see.  I listen. “Nada. Maybe they’re hunting and they’re in stealth mode. They’re obviously mammal eaters” (Transient Biggs orca). I reel in the hydrophone.

Nearby, gulls are crying and swooping down in a frenzy! Guillemots and loons are also diving underwater at the same place. As we approach, bald eagles start flying in and grabbing fish from the surface. A Bait Ball is happening!! Herring or anchovy are being forced to the surface by salmon below them, making them available to aerial predators. S-c-r-e-e-e-e-e-ching eagle cries join with the gulls’ screaming in a cacophony of sound matching their chaotic flying and swooping. Soon there are a couple dozen eagles vying for fish and more keep coming! Where do they come from? Are there that many within sight of the bait ball? Or do they hear the sounds of birds or do they call each other, or . . .? Mysteries abound and every day in the natural world brings more questions we want to answer! Questions, questions, questions . . . always more and more!

There is a light SW breeze and the tide is with us so we float off Marina Island for a while and duck into the cabin to get out of the now intense midday sun. Terry sticks his head out  for a quick check just as 2 humpback whales breach off Francisco Pt. We fire up Lazarus (our WWII engine) and beetle over as fast as we can (4.85 knots/hr) while the whales breach and fin slap. 20 minutes later we arrive on the scene and carefully line up with the 2 recreational boats who have been enjoying the show. But the whales are finished being active. They proceed with their usual mode of activity when they are close to us – they go to sleep!

“OOOO Whale Breath” Terry groans as a piquant perfume of rotting fish with sulphurous accents wafts over us. But I am in whale heaven. I just love to BE around them even when they’re sleeping. Terry starts to talk about the challenges of shooting good video of whales from a sailboat. One of the whales gives a single gentle tail slap and both whales swim away.

Did we disturb them by talking? it’s so hard to know what that tail slap meant. [see Humpback Body Language Blog April 2020] We don’t follow them since they obviously left us.

The light SW daytime breeze is a harbinger of summer winds. We hoist the sails and sail to Drew Harbour on a broad reach. Sutil Channel is covid 19 quiet. There aren’t the usual fishing and tourist boats around. Our ears perk up – a breath. It’s another humpback whale – a smaller juvenile – and s/he is snoozing mid-channel. We sail serenely on.

Drew Harbour is a shocker. We round the end of the spit to find flotillas of flotsam and floating logs filling the anchorage. “It looks like a boom broke up in here” i say. We weave our way to our favourite anchorage and set the anchor  just as the tide starts to ebb and the wind switches to NW 10 – 20 knots.  Just in time! Sure cools off a hot day though.

 

May 2020 #1 – Lockdowns!

There are many kinds of lockdowns. Some are physical. Others are emotional, psychological, spiritual. Covid 19 started as a physical lockdown. But the lockdown itself is affecting the mental, emotional and even spiritual health of the human global population. Prisons of any kind, even the kindest kind will do that.

The economic restrictions have killed the usual May tourist rush here on the Salish Sea. With the Canada/US border closed to non-essential traffic yachts from Seattle are barred. Vancouver area boaters are mostly staying away although a few have been sneaking into anchorages in Desolation Sound and the Discovery Islands. Fuel and pump outs can be accessed from some marinas but most limit traffic “from away” to the dock area – no mixing with the locals.

With tourists banned whale watching companies are advertising a shut down until Summer. However, some of the captains are still out on the water doing water taxi or other work. So they are sending reports to the network of any orcas, dolphins and whales that they come across. And some intrepid nature-loving souls are just hanging out with any cetaceans they find.

I’ve been anxious to get back on the water with the whales since April. The long winter and extended virus season have been opportunities for more research about other species of whales. All live intriguing and mysterious lives that we humans know so little about. I’ve also been corresponding with Jim Darling, co-founder of Whale Trust in Hawaii and an expert bioacoustician. I sent Jim the whalesong files that I recorded in November of 2019. Jim has done some fascinating research into the meaning of humpback whalesong, its function in humpback culture and its relationship to regional populations and migrations. The revelations of Jim’s research will help us to understand the role of whalesong in humpback relationships amongst males (who are the singers) and between males and females (who are choosing mates).

Jude and Terry find that the old law within the science hierarchy about not attributing emotional, problem solving and aesthetic capacity to any animal except homo sapiens still seems to be operating. Research projects which are granted funding follow the strict rules and metrics of stated factors and vectors with observations fitted into those boxes. This approach has proven very useful for specific information like population numbers, genetic tracing, food sources etc. But it is only one approach and has limitations. Other ways of gathering information ie: traditional indigenous knowledge and stories are barely acknowledged and not credited. Even in private conversation many scientists rarely let on that they might wander and ponder outside of their proposed Science-dictated hypotheses. We find this sad – mostly sad for the researchers who can’t explore their emotional and even spiritual connection to the beings they spend so much time studying.

Anyway, people have been observing the returning humpback whales mostly in Discovery Passage and venturing around Cape Mudge into Sutil Channel. It’s time to venture out for our first whale cruise of the season!

September 2019 #1 Sea Otter!

September 2nd, Labour Day, 9am. We are anchored in Drew Harbour on Quadra Island inside Blue Parrot’s small cabin having breakfast.

“PTCHOOOO” “Was that a blow?” In a heartbeat we’re out on deck. “PTCHOOOOOO” “It WAS a blow!” Terry makes a mad dash for the camera as Jude unties the bubble boat and jumps in. 3 Humpback whales glide in the deep water around the entrance to the harbour. Jude is rowing like a madwoman to get to the entrance but several motorboats and a few kayaks close in on the whales. Will the whales swim into the harbour?  Here comes the ferry! Oh no! Maybe too much comotion for the whales. They turn tail and head for open water. We row over to the long sandy spit separating Drew Harbour from Sutil Channel and scramble over to the Channel side.

The 3 humpbacks are traveling about 250m off the spit so Terry records some video of them before we head back to Blue P to weigh anchor. Messages ring in on our cell phone. “8 humpbacks off Rebecca Rocks”, “Humpbacks in Baker Passage” “Mom and calf in Calm Channel” ” 5 whales between Viner Pt and Marina Is.” It’s maddening. We don’t see any blows anywhere – Which way did they go?

Rocked by boat and ferry wake we steer Blue Parrot through a tideline of logs and other assorted flotsam and jetsam. Terry spots a floating log that astonishingly resembles a sea otter. “It IS a SEA OTTER! Here in Sutil Channel” Terry is ecstatic “Ouzer Ouzer” he croons as the koala-like face peers over at us. He – we see his furry balls as he grooms himself – rolls over and over preening, cleaning and aerating his luxurious fur. Mostly, he’s lying on his back, nonchalantly riding the crests and troughs of boat wake up and down. He doesn’t even bother to move when the ferry barrels past.

Eventually we say “Goodbye” to our adorable otter to look for more whales. But it’s not our lucky day for being around whales.  We just miss 2 more who are reported to be fishing in the very spot we left an hour ago. Oh well. Nice to know whales are around.

Hope that sea otter finds a mate!

August 2019 #1 Burping Whales & Dragging Anchors!

Quite the stormy night in Gorge Harbour! A stiff SE gale blew up and one of the anchored cruisers dragged and picked up another cruisers anchor yanking 250ft of heavy chain with anchor attached all around the harbour at 3am. Inches away from smashing into other boats at anchor – people out on deck yelling and dropping fenders over the sides of their boats to protect them. It was mayhem. Not much sleep for anybody.

Finally the wind calms and we run the gauntlet of moored boats out of the harbour. Terry is listening to the VHF radio for any news of whales.”15 Humpbacks out here off the scallop farm” reports one of the whale watching boat captains. We spot 2 whales traveling south as we exit Gorge Harbour. “I don’t see any whale watching boats” Terry says “Oh, now I see them – close to the shore of Quadra. I’m seeing backs and blows – one, two, three, four whales over there. Five more further over. Three close to the spit”

It’s a Wealth of Whales! There are 3 groups all feeding in the same area. They circle around all the boats that have come over to admire them. Four pass very close to Blue P. Seas are calm but boat wake makes video next to impossible. Jude drops the hydrophone to record any communications that might be happening between the groups of whales. There doesn’t seem to be any  vocalizing going on  between the groups – at least anything audible to human ears. However the whales that are closest to us are feeding. Jude hears a burp/burble – several burps – hilarious! We float with this group for a couple of hours in the heat of midday and hear thunder to the west of us rolling across Campbell River.

October 2018 – Fog

Here we are floating around in Sutil Channel. We finally got here after after months of dreaming about this place as reports streamed in of dozens of humpback whales gathering to frolic and feed. Well – we’re here after a day of motoring – but where are the whales? We did notice one humpback blow off Francisco Point when we came around Marina Island. Then Terry sighted 2 blows at the SW tip of Read Island but nobody has come close or even lingered to feed in any of their reported favourite sites. So much for Humpback Heaven!

We circle the Subtle Islands. A flotilla of stellar sea lions is hauled out on the NW side. A couple of baby seals check us out. No whales. We have permission to tie up to another private buoy in one of the bays, courtesy of one of Martha’s friends. The folks on Cortes Island love the whales and have been very generous in helping us out with places for our ship to moor.

Tonight Terry and I lie awake meditating and mentally sending invitations to the whales to come and meet us if they aren’t too busy. The fog rolls in during the morning. We are floating around Hill Island. I am working below as Terry watches a fog bank roll up the channel. “Try phoning Martha” Terry calls down to me. “Ask her whether they’ve got fog over that side of the Island.”  I phone Martha. “She says it was clear this morning but the fog came in thick. It’s supposed to clear near noon but local knowledge says maybe late afternoon or evening”  Oh Joy! The fog is steadily moving toward us so we head back to our mooring buoy to wait it out.

And that’s the saga of Sutil Channel; floating around in the sun – monitoring the fog banks – waiting  for whales – and spotting them – in the distance. Meanwhile, we have some  fun observing raucous arguments between eagle mates. We watch a loon try to swallow a big-headed sculpin. We ponder on why the shore pines in the Bay are dying like the red cedars are dying in Trevenen Bay. But no whales. After a few days we decide to head back to the other side of Cortes. 2 humpbacks appear about 1 knot ahead of Blue Parrot to lead the way.

 

September 2018 – Puffer Pigs

Well, it wasn’t a good month for hanging out with humpbacks but we did encounter more delightful harbour porpoises, affectionately named “puffer pigs” than we’ve ever seen before. We were anchored in one of our favourite calm weather spots close to ‘Red Pepper’. The sloop is adorned with a 200Watt solar panel to power her electric motor. Ken and Pat, her crew,  are retired and not in a hurry to get anywhere in particular.  When they aren’t sailing their 35ft red-hulled Erickson sailboat they can motor all day at 3 knots and fully recharge their batteries at the same time. We make a wish that electric motors will soon become affordable for your average low income sailor.

In the morning Terry saw a couple of blows further south so we headed that way. The sky was blue, the mountain vistas spectacular – but no whales appeared – so we floated on a silk smooth sunlit sea for hours. As sunset coloured the sky we followed leaping herring into Blubber Bay on Texada Island, hopeful that some humpbacks would discover the herring too. After anchoring we settled in for a peaceful night.

The moon is bright and the sea still calm when we get up to check the anchor line at 2am. “It’s a perfect night to drop the hydrophone” Jude enthuses. Before I can move: Pchooo! “Was that a blow?” Pchooo! “Terry, there’s a whale out there.”  “Only one?” “Yes, s/he must have found those herring.” The whale is not really close so I drop the hydrophone to listen underwater. What a cacophony! We’re close to shore and the hydrophone hangs close to bottom where  shrimp crackle, barnacles creak, fish grunt, seals burp and pilings rub and groan. It surely is noisy in the intertidal zone. I can’t identify half of these intriguing sounds. They are so loud that I can’t hear any whale noises if there are any. We listen to the whale breathing above the water just outside the bay. But soon a diesel engine barrels into the bay drowning out all other sound above and under the water. Oh well. We plan to get up early to check whether our whale is still hanging around.

And there s/he is the next morning – intently shallow feeding just outside the bay. We float around watching herm for a while. As we float a motorboat zooms towards us headed right for the area where whale is feeding. I call on the VHF radio to let them know there is a whale in the area and they slow down.

One of our friendly Powell River whale spotters with a scope on her deck calls us to let us know that there are orcas in Blubber Bay. We have been so engaged with our humpback friend that we didn’t notice them but now we see 6 orcas racing out of the bay. They are beauties – one male with a very long dorsal fin. I struggle to get the hydrophone back in the water but don’t hear any communications. Maybe they are in stealth mode – mammal eaters hunting seals or sea lions. We watch them disappear into the distance and notice the incoming clouds. “Let’s stay ahead of the rain” I suggest “Do you see the Grant’s Reef buoy?” “Depth is 40 ft, 35, 23, 18” Terry reads the sounder as we approach the shallow reefs. They must be full of fish because a carpet of loons, murres, grebes and gulls float over them. 3 humpback whales troll the deeper water nearby. And here are a dozen harbour porpoises popping up for a puff of breath and submerging to feed together. What a sight! We’ve never seen more than 2 or 3 together so this is a treat.

Rain clouds are catching up to us as another sailboat motors across our bow towards the shallow passage between Savary and Hernando Islands. I call him on the radio and ask if we can follow him through. “Sure” he says. So we do – cruising through the shoals and rocks as our 10ft shallow alarm sounds more than once.

Good thing we’re making passage on a 9ft tide.

2018 Sea of Whales

2018 SEA of WHALES – INTRO

This year was finally the year we’d been working towards. After years of setbacks, injuries etc. we finally got to meet and hang out with Grey whales in Baja, Mexico and Humpback whales in the Salish Sea. They were very different experiences but the following are a couple of stories with observations about human interactions with our large aquatic relations.

Eye to I

Terry (the Amphibiographer) and I were off of Powell River in our 27ft sailboat. There was no wind so we were motoring back towards the harbour at about 4 knots. Suddenly we saw what looked to be the butt end of a large deadhead floating in the water about 100m ahead. Hitting one of these can spell disaster for a boat and I was on the tiller.

“Do you think it moved?” I asked Terry who was at the

bow peering through binoculars to get a better look.

“It’s an elephant seal!” he exclaimed, “See the nose?”

“An elephant seal?” As the head turned I saw that unmistakable trunk-like shnozz come into view. I slowed down instantly and angled sharply to port (left). But our friend didn’t seem to be too fussed. After surveying the view he slowly submerged and disappeared.

We were past him by this time so we looked back just in time to see a humpback whale breach about 300m behind us. I executed a 180 degree turn hoping we would get to witness some playful exuberant humpback acrobatics. Whale breached a few more times but stopped when we were within 150 metres. I slipped the motor into neutral so Whale would know exactly where our boat was and Terry swung below to retrieve the video camera. Then we waited. And waited.

About 10 minutes later “PCHOOOOO!” A blow about 50m from our boat! An arc of dark whaleback surfaced and began to circle around us. I killed the motor since obviously Whale knew we were there. Was Whale curious? I decided to try to communicate with Whale. The closest I can get to mimicking whale language is to play my didjeridoo. My partner can synthesize a mean didjeridoo with his resonant baritone voice. So the two of us began a duet, a whale serenade.

Whale didn’t talk back to us – or maybe Whale did but we couldn’t hear it above the water. But Whale did move closer to the boat – still circling slowly. We drifted together like this for a while – no pyrotechnics, just meditative mellow breathing, didjeridooing and hanging out together. It was magical!

Then Whale took a breath and submerged into a sleek shallow dive from 25m behind our boat, under the length of it to emerge about 7m off the bow! Since Whale was one and a half times the length of our boat this took a few seconds. We were so surprised we jumped, clattered and banged our recording gear as we rushed to video our friend, who then leisurely swam off leaving us breathless.

I have since learned that whales avoid banging and thumping coming from the hull of a boat so that might have chased our friend away. I have also learned, from time spent among the grey whales in Baja, Mexico, that if whales want to interact with you, they will come to you. There is never any need to chase them. A boat that is floating in the water with enthusiastic people onboard can be a source of entertainment for our large friends. It can be a toy to play with, an ecstatic audience for athletic performances, willing volunteers for their teasing tricks like surprise blow hole showers, and even useful for a good back scratch.

The whales who came to visit us in our little boats had complete control of the interactions. From as young as 6 weeks their physical skill and coordination in the water was amazing. They teased us, made us squeal with delight and only stayed with us as long as they wanted. See ‘Baja Grey Whales’ Blog

When a whale rolls on her/his side to make eye contact with you – conscious being to conscious being – you know you have met a relation.

2018-August – Whales Listen to Didgeridoo

Playing music for whales isn’t a new concept. It probably goes back as far as the first humans and whales. Musicians and interspecies communicators like Jim Nollman were playing music for whales and recording it in the 1970s. The songs of the humpback whales are legend all over the world. Research has shown that humpbacks are especially attracted to sounds in the 400hz – 700hz range. This is medium – high range for a human soprano voice. “That’s doable” we surmised. So we decided to try playing a little whale music ourselves. Jude brought her didgeridoo onboard(actually it’s a PVC pipe with a beeswax mouthpiece), and Terry planned to experiment with chanting/singing .

Flashing white pectoral fins and splashing tails in the distance attracted our attention so we swung off our course towards the two humpbacks making a fuss. They dove while we were a couple of hundred metres away then popped up near us and a couple of other boats. It was an opportunity too good to miss. We started making some sounds to see what the whales would do. It was all ‘play the moment’, experimental, on the fly, while videoing and controlling the sailboat at the same time, so please forgive any weird sounds and unprofessional performance. Terry makes no pretence to being a musician; he was just trying to keep the whales interested enough to stay with us a while. And they did stay for almost 5 minutes. It seems our music put them to sleep! Or at least they appeared to be resting and listening. What do you think?

(Sorry for the wobbly video, using telephoto on a rolling boat in even little waves makes for unsteady footage).

Near Harwood Island, Tla’amin Territory, Powell River, British Columbia, Canada. August, 2018