In 2019 Terry (aka “the amphibiographer”) got a camera that can shoot 4K video. But in 2019 our 2008 computer was not fast enough to play the clips. This meant that we couldn’t actually review video or audio of the whales that Terry recorded. Further down the line we couldn’t coordinate it with my hydrophone recordings. So in 2021 we finally bought a 2019 computer that could actually play the recordings we’d made. While listening to audio files of singing whales that I had recorded in October 2019 I heard grunts, growls, belches and squeaks that didn’t sound like a song. Are these these whales practising whale solfège? are they enjoying a good meal? or are they talking? What a find! I hope you enjoy the underwater conversation as much as we did.
Category: Humpback Whalesong
March 2202 #2 – Humpback Whale Concert Hall
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.
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.
March 2022 #1 – Whales and Whale Sharks
We are lucky. Onno is amazing, competent AND easy going!! This is a rare combination in a ship’s captain.
In fact, after Roger and Aashima come aboard the 4 of us spend a lot of time laughing …… and eating. Turns out Onno is a professional chef and Aashima is a great cook. I cook some but most of my contribution is washing dishes – especially in rough weather. I have never been seasick.
The good part: The first days we were anchored in Frailes I recorded the whales singing. They were close. “From the reverb of their voices I’ll bet they are singing near pinnacles” I say to the crew.
“Onno, can I look at your chart plotter? I want to check out the topography of the ocean bottom around here. Up north the whales like to sing in cathedral-like structures; pinnacles and canyons. I think they like the acoustics – they sound fabulous!”
“Aha! There’s a canyon just to the south of Los Frailes” I think we’ve found their concert hall” I record the whales singing on the 4 days we are anchored off Frailes. A few Humpback whales including a mother and calf acually swim past Lost Pearl. These recordings are still not the best because the background of shrimp and sand masks the whale sound when we are anchored so close to the shore. However you can hear more of the song.
Unfortunately this is the last recording I could make from Lost Pearl because we had to leave Los Frailes. Onno’s dinghy was stolen in La Cruz and he has to get to La Paz to pick up another one at the repair shop. Onno and I head out in Lost Pearl early in the morning to catch a calm weather window and motor north to Los Muertos. Roger and Aashima drive there to meet us. We count Olive Ridley sea turtles on the way there and a gorgeous young whale shark glowing in the sunlight slips by Lost Pearl just under the water’s surface. The Sea of Cortes is still magic even though much has been lost.
February 2022 #2 – Finally, Singing Whales!
After 3 days the social and economic inequalities of Cabo San Lucas are getting to me. They remind me of how privileged I am as a Canadian tourist in this world where 1% of the population controls 99% of the wealth. I am happy to leave a few days later for the east cape.
Several stops and one flat tire later we are in Frailes driving out to the beach as the sand gets softer … and deeper.
“Better get out of this soft stuff while we can.” announces Roger as he contemplates the soft sand mixed with cobbles under the tires. He clambers back into the truck. “We’ll back out on our tracks coming in” I hop out of the camper to find our tracks and guide us out onto the harder pan.
I am relieved “Whew! Let’s look for the boat”. We scan the bay “Is that it?” A double masted wooden ketch is riding high on the 2 foot chop a few hundred meters off the beach. “She’s a beauty” Roger sighs. Lost Pearl is a 1978 45ft custom built Hardin ketch. Quite a few Hardins were built to customer specs at that time. The heavy wood and full keel weighs in at 17,000 pounds. For reference our Blue Parrot is 27ft with a fin keel and weighs in at <6,000 pounds.
“is that him, in the dinghy, heading into shore over there?” The wind is whipping up white caps cresting the chop. The beach ends in sand banks piled 3 meters high at the shore. Pickup trucks push pangas on trailers into the water down a bank that has been slightly levelled. Onno is steering the dinghy toward the panga launch area. He has to jump out of the dinghy and quickly yank it up the bank before the next wave sucks it back into the ocean. We run to help him pull the dinghy up and over the sand bank.
That night I sleep on Lost Pearl squeezed into 1/2 the V-berth amongst sails, empty buckets and fishing poles. But I love the motion of the bow riding over waves on this windy night and soon fall into a velvet sleep rocked by Mama Ocean.
The next day Roger leaves to pick up Aashima from La Paz. Onno and I organize the boat and extend his gopro selfie pole from the deck of Lost Pearl so I can drop my hydrophone into the Sea of Cortes for the first time. “I can hear them. They’re singing!” (Oh frabjous day!) I think it’s a different song from the Salish Sea song in 2020. I didn’t get a good enough recording this Fall.”
Unfortunately this still isn’t a great recording. Because Lost Pearl is anchored in shallow water close to the shore you can hear the sand hissing as it moves with the surging surf in waves towards the shore. There is also an intense snapping sound made by shrimp and barnacles as they feed.
October 2020 Halloween Reveries with Whales
These are the sounds we were hearing on Halloween night. Terry and I anchored off Savary Island in our little old sailboat Blue Parrot. A lovely end-of-October eve on the Salish Sea filled our senses. I dropped my 2 hydrophones over opposite sides of the boat about 4 metres deep into 8 metres of water. We were watching the full moon rise through ribbons of cloud over the mainland mountains. Mars rose orange in the East. Brilliant Jupiter appeared over Vancouver Island in the South with smaller, dimmer Saturn a little further Southeast. Silver moonlight lit the sky. Below, a calm silky ocean shimmered, where the occasional belch of a seal or cry of a gull drifted across the water. Moonight revealed the mainland contours on one side of the Strait and Vancouver Island on the other as far as we could see. Blooms of neon purple, green, red, indigo, yellow and white flowered over both shores chased by muted boombiddy-booms as adults and children around the Salish Sea gathered to enjoy the Halloween fireworks displays.
CLICK HERE TO LISTEN to this whale who was quite far away – probably 6 – 8 km. You can hear the sea splashing against the hull. The odd creaks and knocks are the boat rudder knocking and the crackles are shrimp talking on the bottom under the boat! One whale is singing all the notes – the very high squeaks and the low growls. He is practising his song for performing in Mexico or Hawaii. The song becomes more complex and developed in December before the whales leave on their southern migration.
It was Magic – perfect for a Halloween reverie accompanied by the haunting music coming through from the hydrophones. was this music the eerie wails of long departed souls? or aliens trying to communicate with receptive earthlings? No. The ghoulish notes in my headphones were the eerie wails of eerie WHALES – Whales who are very much alive on planet Earth right now. This is the music of humpback whales you are hearing. They’re practising their song here in the Salish Sea of BC before they begin their long migration to Mexico or Hawaii or even Japan. Once they have perfected their song, which slowly changes every year, they will perform it in the warm waters of their southern destinations.
No human knows why humpback whales sing or what the whales are singing about. Only the males sing and a singing male will attract other males who will often join in the song. In the 5 years we’ve been listening underwater for vocalizing humpback whales in the Salish Sea, the end of October and beginning of November are the only times we’ve heard any vocalizing at all. It’s another whale mystery that, along with so many whale mysteries, only adds to the awe that 2 tiny, curious humans feel when in the presence of these majestic beings.
Undoubtedly whale biologists feel it too, even while they conduct precise, tightly structured investigations and analyze the data. Whales are so much like us. Mothers feed, care for, teach and protect their babies. Whales often hunt and feed together with every whale having a prescribed job. They socialize and play with friends. Male Humpbacks sing and compose complicated songs. Whales from different areas have different languages, cultures and food preferences. They communicate vocally and with body language. But here is where we begin to differ. Aside from the obvious differences of size and body shape whales and humans have evolved very different physiologies in order to thrive on land or in the sea. We both have 2 eyes and 2 ears but what whales see and hear both underwater and above the water is very different from what humans see and hear. We humans do not have nostrils on top of our heads or mouths that gape open to our bellies while consuming more than 1 ton of fish per day.
Here is the biggest mystery of all in my humble opinion: Whales and dolphins are conscious breathers. They have to be awake in order to breathe. But, like every other mammal, they must sleep and dream. So they have evolved a clever work-around to allow them to sleep and breathe simultaneously. All dolphins and whales sleep with only 1/2 of their brain at a time. One hemisphere is off in dreamland while the other is monitoring the immediate environment and initiating breathing in realtime. Have you ever woken in the middle of the night and hovered in that half asleep/half awake horizon where dream characters populate your consciousness but you are also aware that you are in bed? or that the click you are hearing is your digital clock? or that you might have to pee? Is that how whales experience their sleeptime? I wonder what kind of consciousness that produces in whales?
And here is the real kicker. Humans have been learning about our planet from other animals and plants forever. We also use their special gifts to help us thrive in the environments we share. We use a dog’s sense of smell and hearing to help us hunt. We use the hawk’s eyes to scan the landscape. We tune in to the alarms of birds to notify us of predators in the forest. Plants, trees and fungi transform minerals and vitamins in soil and water into compounds that our cells can use to keep us healthy.
So why sit here in front of your screen googling for information on the internet when you can be outside letting your dog take you for a walk through a park or forest? Have you sat with your cat on the porch or balcony or slightly opened window of an apartment? Can you observe what she’s observing? Lots of folks can watch flowers, or fish, or listen to birds for hours. Try it. The world you’ll discover is the world that goes on around us 24/7, mostly unnoticed by humans.
As the dominant large animal species on Earth today we get lost in our own human stories. We root out ways we are different from each other while we are surrounded by beings who are more different from us than any human is from any other human. And what a cornucopia of differences there is – so many ways of perceiving the universe, more than we can ever know. So many stories to explore. Find someone to share your adventures and stories with. You will be constantly amazed as well as amused – and healthier and happier in the bargain.
November 2019 #4 The Pinnacles of Whalesong
Nov 6th dawns another frigid morning. While our tea kettle attempts a few tunes of its own Terry downloads video from the camera. Jude is programming her mixer/recorder while listening for whales on the hydrophone. “Terry – I hear something – it definitely sounds like singing – not close. Let’s head out. I’ll keep the hydrophone down and keep listening. We may be able to locate them”
We head the Parrot ship SW in the direction of Vancouver Island – to The Pinnacles. That’s where, yesterday, the golden light of the setting sun backlit heart-shaped blows of 6 – 10 humpback whales. Their dark backs appeared as tiny black crescents breaking the surface 2km SW of Blue Parrot.
The Pinnacles is a rock formation which rises sharply from the ocean floor at 600ft up to 70 ft below the water’s surface. Fish like to congregate here and so do all the critters who eat them including humans. As we motor closer Jude is listening for increasing volume of whalesong. “Sounds like we’re going in the right direction. Do you see anybody” “Nobody yet” Terry answers “Let me know when you want to stop”
During mid-day there is a break in service on the Comox-Powell River and Texada-Powell River ferries as their crews change shifts. Happily it’s break time now. The silence is heavenly. These are the clearest songs Jude has been able to record. Subtle nuances and inflections which had been obscured by boat noise on the previous recordings are now clearly audible. “You’ve got to hear this Terry! I think there are 2 whales – 1 farther away” An enraptured Jude holds out the headphones “I’m going to get the speaker so we can both listen.” Jude plugs in the speaker and whalesong pours into the air.
We listen: The sounds are so awesome – so expressive. It’s not possible to listen without being moved – enthralled by the ranges and timbres of their voices.
They grunt, groan, whoop and whistle. There is even a knocking percussive sound. How are they making that sound?
What are they singing about? What emotions are they expressing? Do groups of males get together to sing in unison? Are these whales singing together? The 2 whales don’t seem to be singing the same part of the song. Are they friends? Do whales sing over each other like birds do when they are proclaiming their territory? – So many questions but mostly exhilaration and awe.
Aerial whalesong might be what attracts a curious young seal to Blue Parrot. Seal circles our ship, peering into the cockpit at us. 
S/he dives underwater and we hear whiskers snuffling against the hydrophone “Hey! Get off of there!” Jude yells into the water. Up comes seal but s/he doesn’t leave. S/he stays with us checking out our dinghy – looking and looking. “Maybe s/he’s a seal scientist or engineer and s/he’s calculating the logistics of how we could be hiding a humpback whale in the cockpit of our little boat!” Terry laughs. Jude holds the speaker out where seal can see it and turns it off and on to demonstrate to seal where the whalesong is coming from. Seal disappears underwater and then surfaces again. The whalesong must be very loud underwater. And the same song is coming from our boat – probably delayed by a few seconds. It must be a profound puzzle for a curious seal.
Could this curious seal be the one under our boat listening to the whalesong?
Humpback Whales singing at the Pinnacles in the Salish Sea
Eventually seal departs. But the blessed reprieve from boat noise is soon blasted apart by the engines of several tugs towing heavily loaded barges northward up the Strait. The bass throbbing of those engines chugs on and on for hours.
After 2 1/2 hours the whales seem to have stopped singing. We scan the sea looking for blows or surfacing whales. “A BREACH” Terry yells as one whale launches himself out of the water 500m away. Another whale is with him but we aren’t close enough for ID. “Of course I don’t have my camera!” Terry mutters. And of course the whales swim off to the west – away from us. On these shorter days we have to head back to the anchorage before the light fades. So we do.
Tomorrow is another day.
November 2019 #1 Whalesong!
“I’ll pump it up some more. Did you find the methylhydrate?” Terry is rummaging around in the starboard lazerette looking for a bicycle pump to pressurize the kerosene tank. The tank feeds an old Force 10 heater in Blue P’s cabin. It could take the chill off a 0°C morning. A little warmth, however stinky, would be appreciated. But the old heater won’t stay lit. The upside is that we are generating considerable body heat in efforts to get it started. Pumping up the tank and a couple of cups of hot tea get us out in the cold and under way.
Another frigid Autumn morning of no wind. At least old Lazarus (our ceaselessly ressucitated WWII Atomic 4 engine) starts easily. We’re off. Terry is scanning the horizon for whales “A blow! Inside Grant Reefs, south end.” Wow! Whales in the morning! That’ll wake you up fast! “Why don’t you drop the hydrophone to listen and I’ll shut down the motor?”
“I think I hear them Yes! There’s some low burbles – and higher squeaking – Woah! that was LOUD! A long high note – a growl” Jude does a bad imitation of a whale growl and hands Terry the headphones. He pulls them over his ears. The thrilling, haunting sound of whalesong floats through the hydrophone line from deep underwater.
“YES!” A huge grin spreads along his face. Jude is leaning over the toe rail holding the hydrophone cable off Blue Parrot’s hull “I’m trying to keep the cable from knocking against the hull. It’s vibrating and making that low throbbing bass rumble” Blue P is still moving. Sailboats have a great deal of momentum once they’re in motion. A 5 knot NW breeze is pushing us SE. Movement of water over the cable causes the cable to vibrate. Finally the breeze calms and Blue Parrot slows enough for a clearer sound.
“Of course now I can hear the Comox ferry” Jude sighs “I hear 2 whales – there’s a singer close to us and 1 farther away – at least one. I don’t know where” We watch for the whales to surface to breathe but no blows are visible anywhere “Where are they? We saw that blow at 2:15 and now it’s 3:30. Can they stay down that long when they’re singing?”
The whales sing. We can hear repeated phrases and the range of vocalizations soar from deep grunts to mid-range groans to whoops, screeches and whistles. There are also percussive knocks or clicks. And those are only the sounds in the range that humans are capable of hearing! There could be subsonic and supersonic vocalizations that we humans would never pick up. Researchers can use spectral analysis software to get a visual representation of these sounds.
“Let’s send the recordings to Jim Darling. I can ask him if the whales are singing the same song in Hawaii” Jude enthuses “I want to know if some of our whales are wintering there.” Jim is a bioacoustician who co-founded Whale Trust. He’s based in Hawaii and Tofino, migrating between the 2 locations much like a migrating whale. “It would be great to know which individual whales winter in Hawaii and feed here in the summer.” “And we should go to Hawaii to meet them there.” Terry adds. It is our dream to freedive in warm, clear water when the whales are singing, feeling all our bones resonating with their music.
After about 1 1/2 hours the singing becomes sparser and the sun is setting. “We’d better head over to Blubber Bay tonight. We can drop the hydrophone there and hear if they’re singing closer to Rebecca Rocks or even Texada.” So we head off under motor and jib. As we round Harwood Pt. we see several humpbacks splashing around Revecca Rocks. Are these our singers?
Maybe we’ll find out tomorrow.
A little information from https://dosits.org/animals/sound-production/how-do-marine-mammals-produce-sounds/
HOW DO WHALES SING? Unlike humans, whales don’t have to exhale to produce sound. Whales don’t have vocal cords either. Like humans, humpback whales have a larynx. Instead of vocal cords they have a thick, u-shaped, ridge of tissue. This ‘u-fold’ serves the same purpose as our vocal cords. Adjacent to their larynx is a large inflatable pouch called the laryngeal sac. When Humpback whales contract muscles in their throat and chest, air flows between the lungs and the laryngeal sac. Alternating expansion and contraction of the lungs and sac drives air across the u-fold, causing it to vibrate and produce sound. The vibrations vibrate through the whale’s body into the surrounding water. Changes in the laryngeal sac shape may alter the frequency and/or loudness of sounds produced.
Schematic diagram displaying a potential mechanism for sound production in baleen whales. Baleen whales contract muscles in the throat and chest, causing air to flow between the lungs and the laryngeal sac (pink tissue in the diagram). Alternating expansion and contraction of the lungs and sac drives air across a u-shaped ridge of tissue, the u-fold (yellow), causing it to vibrate and produce sound. Vibrations from the laryngeal sac (green lines) may propagate through the ventral throat pleats into the surrounding water as sound waves. Note: the respiratory tract of the whale is shown red, digestive tract in blue, and associate cartilage in white. Image credit: Dr. Joy Reidenberg. Adapted from Joy S. Reidenberg and Jeffrey T. Laitman. 2007. Discovery of a low frequency sound source in Mysticeti (baleen whales): Anatomical establishment of a vocal fold homolog. The Anatomical Record. Volume 290, Issue 6, pages 745–759.