Friday, August 3, 2012

No. 671 – Orestes

Performer: A Perfect Circle
Songwriters: Billy Howerdel, Maynard James Keenan
Original Release: Mer de Noms
Year: 2000
Definitive Version: None

When Debbie and I went to visit her cousin—let’s call her Janice—in Juneau, Alaska, at the start of summer in 2000, the one thing Debbie wanted to do was go on a whale watch, like we had in Maine, but something slightly less formal or expensive.

Debbie’s cousin’s son, let’s call him Mark, did a little bit of crabbing on the side, so he had a basic ocean-going fishing boat, and Janice said he’d take us out to hunt for whales. The boat was bare bones. It had a cabin for sleeping and storage (more storage than anything) and that’s about it.

And did I mention the lack of a head? For you nonsailors, that means no bathroom facilities. The toilet was a large bowl that you cleaned by tossing the contents over the side. Your choice was take it or leave it, so I would leave it. Given my stomach issues, I didn’t want to leave anything to chance, so I didn’t eat or drink anything all morning. We were going to be out on the water most of the day, and the best strategy was to shut down my body as best I could.

We headed out of the marina harbor and set a course north. Mark had a few crab traps fairly close to the shore in the channel north of town, and that seemed to him to be as good a place to look for whales as any. Sea otters and seals were all over the place in that area, so the feeding generally was good. It seemed like the right strategy.

That course also kept us away from the gigantic boats that were used for formal whale-watching trips. Mark said whales didn’t like the loud roar of those engines, so they wouldn’t get too close to those boats. The morning we went out, we could see one about a mile or two to the west of us when we cut off the engines and parked.

The water was unbroken, flat blue crystal, and I remember Mark saying it was so cold that if something happened to the boat and we went in, we’d be dead in about 15 minutes from hypothermia. OK, stay on the boat at all times; that’s a good safety tip for the day.

We sat there for a long time, and while others feasted on sandwiches and granola bars, I had nothing. It was quiet except for the odd seal checking us out to see whether we were featuring today’s catch-o-the-day and had some extra scraps that might find their way back into the ocean.

Suddenly, a big rush of wind, like the loudest exhale you’ve ever heard in your life, broke the silence. Whales! Two humpbacks broke the surface about 600 yards west of where we were. They were swimming languidly side by side, with first one humping its back for a breath, then the other. They did this twice before taking a bigger hump and diving slowly until you saw just their huge tails come out of the water, first one, than the other, before disappearing below the water. They came up a second time, farther to the North, before going down again.

Debbie was beside herself, taking pictures. Oh my gosh, she said, that’s the closest she ever had been to whales, and how cool was it to be in a small boat where we could see them? The folks in the other boat off in the distance couldn’t see any of this. They were too far away.

It fell silent for a while again when all of a sudden we heard the telltale woosh of whale breath. The whales were back, and … they … were … heading … right … for … us.

The first one came up for a breath maybe 25 yards in front of the boat. The second one came up, and although it couldn’t have been this close, it sure looked like it was no more than 10 feet in front of the boat. I was looking through the boat windshield and I swear the entire windshield was filled by the whale’s massive humpback. All I could think was it was going to hit us. I reached for the gunwale in anticipation of the collision. Stay out of the water …

But the whale didn’t hit us; it knew where we were the whole time. The first whale came back up just to the right side of the boat maybe 150 feet away, and the second came up straight behind us about 200 feet. Finally, again, in perfect one-two rhythm, they dove below the surface and were gone.

No one said anything for a split second before we erupted: OH MY GOD! DID YOU SEE THAT?! I CAN’T BELIEVE IT! I THOUGHT THEY WERE GOING TO HIT US!! WOW!!

The whales came back up a few more times around us but each time a bit farther away than the last time and never really all that close after they checked us out. But after our close encounter, how much more could one have expected anyway?

Even Mark and Janice said they’d never seen a whale THAT close before. Well, how many truly have? It was frightening and exhilarating and overwhelming all at once. You don’t get that from your typical whale-watching ship.

That night to toast our great whaling expedition and to thank Mark for the use of his boat and exemplary tour direction, we celebrated with fried fresh-caught haddock at their favorite restaurant in town. That day was clearly the vacation highlight—it was a once-in-a-lifetime experience. And best of all, I never had to use the facilities once—even when I thought we were about to play out a scene from Moby Dick.

No comments:

Post a Comment