WHALES

Growing up, I was fairly obsessed with all things whales.  We had a couple National Geographic segments that were recorded from the TV, and the one about the oceans fascinated me.  I would watch the whole thing over and over again, just waiting for them to introduce the Blue Whale near the end of the program.  I wasn't very good at drawing, so I would spend hours tracing photos and diagrams from a little information book I had about whales.  Any jewelry I had featured whale flukes, or waves.  Though I’m not much of a swimmer, being on a boat of any variety fills me with glee. To this day, my favourite place to be is by the ocean . 

With all of this in mind, imagine my excitement and anticipation leading up to this day, the day Daniel and I went whale-watching in the Arctic Ocean.  

We got to the launch point, checked in, and went down to a storage locker where we were given a survival suit.  Keep in mind it was July, a time of year where staying warm isn’t usually a problem. I initially scoffed at the suit, but thought better of it. The crew were wearing little more than jeans and woolen sweaters and the occasional hat - but I was not crew, nor a sailor, nor Icelandic, and I didn’t have to prove how tough I was to anyone.   This was a good decision, and I was cosy as a bug in a rug in my giant suit as the wind whipped across the water.

The day was sunny and windy and bright, and we could see snow-capped mountains in the distance.The ship we boarded was amazing.  An old, refurbished Icelandic Schooner, which used to be used as a whaling boat. There was a battery on board that was charged by the ship's movement.  When the sails were up the battery would charge, and when the sails were down we could keep going with an electric motor. This carbon neutral set-up appealed to me almost as much as the whales themselves. Daniel got roped in to help with the sails a few times as we left the bay.

We kept our eyes out on the water as we sailed out.  We were headed toward a small island that was known for its large puffin colony.  It's called Puffin Island. A very apt name.  You could see thousands of puffins flying around the tall cliffs, flapping their wings madly.  We had brought our binoculars, and with them you could see the puffins nesting all over the island and cliffs.  You could also spot men, with long-handled nets, sitting stock still among the rocks and grasses.  Every once in a while, they would swing out their nets, catch a puffin, take a quick look at it and then either throw it loose, or break its neck and toss it onto a pile of puffins next to them.  One of the crew told us that the hunting of puffins is highly regulated, you have a strict quota, and when the hunters are looking at the birds they are making sure they aren't female or that they don't have fish in their mouths (indicating they are bringing food back to their young). 

Puffin Island.  It's hard to tell how many puffins are in the air - but trust me, there were oodles.

After Puffin Island, sharp eyes and patience were rewarded with our first glimpses of a humpback. At first, you'd see nothing but a brief spout.  But later on we got closer and could see more of them, as well as their tails when they were going down for a deeper dive.  I'm sure I screeched in delight every time I got to see a little glimpse of the giant and graceful creatures.  One of the coolest parts was being close enough to actually hear the spout of air, since we were being propelled by the wind in our sails rather than a loud motor.

I'm  losing my mind with awe/joy at this moment

The markings on the tail are all different between individual whales

Seemingly all too soon, we had to head back to land.  Clouds had replaced the sunshine, and the wind got stronger and colder.  Hot chocolate (with an optional brandy top-up) was brought up, along with a cinnamon bun for each passenger.   A perfect way to warm up at the end the voyage.

No brandy in my cup, but still warmed me right up.