At sea between Santa Maria in the Azores and Madeira
The Endeavour had left Santa Maria in the Azores late in the afternoon of the 16th and was on a course of 123° headed for Madeira. The seas were calm and the wind was behind us creating pleasant conditions on the fore deck. By noon we had seen a small pod of dolphins and a few Leach’s Storm-Petrels. Suddenly, Ruth pointed to starboard at a splash in the water. Soon a fin appeared and then three bulbous heads. We were uncertain about what we were seeing.
With skillful maneuvering, the Captain reversed course and drew along side the pod of eight sperm whales, two of them young. The whales had likely been feeding and were relaxing on the surface. A few, when at the surface, did not even blow; others exhaled gently, suggesting that they had been at the surface for some time and had already resupplied themselves with oxygen.
Their dark bodies made the water brown as they swam just under the surface. Some, when their lighter bellies turned towards us, made the water green and we could follow their slow movement just under the surface. When they surfaced, we could see the single blow hole at the very front of their bodies but visibly to the left of the midline, a trait in all toothed whales and dolphins. The young, a bit lighter in color, seemed to bob to the surface more easily. It was, in fact, a remarkable experience being so close to one of the behemoths of the deep, indeed, the one that battles the giant squid a mile or two beneath the surface. We were reminded of the struggles of Captain Ahab in the classic, Moby Dick.
Today’s experiences were not all derived from one of the largest of the marine animals. Sometimes, beauty comes in smaller packages. Just after sunrise, a scan of the deck revealed a small black bird snuggled quietly beneath the towel container near the pool. With a little gentle nudging, a small storm petrel was dislodged and taken in hand. Placed for safe keeping in a pillow case, the Leach’s Storm-Petrel later made his photographic debut on the bow just after breakfast. With camera shutters of our guests clicking away furiously, the storm petrel survived its notoriety and was soon released. It flew unerringly away from the ship. Later in the day we watched others of its kind cross the bow in search of either a nesting island or its dinner.
Storm Petrels are called by the sailors, Mother Carey's chickens. In folklore, Mother Carey is the woman in charge of Fiddler's Green. She sees to it that her guests are comfortable and, from time to time, lets them visit the upper world. When such visits occur, the souls take the form of seabirds, known to sailors as storm petrels; for this reason, no real sailor will ever harm a storm petrel. Fiddler's Green in folklore is a large ship lying on the sea bottom at the equator that is the last home of drowned sailors. It is a happy place filled with music, ale and tobacco.
During the day we heard from Jim Kelley about the geologic history of the Azores, from Suzana D’Olivera about Madeira, our next port of call, and from Dennis Cornejo, our underwater specialist about the marine life on the shore of Santa Maria.
All days are not created equal and any day that you can see sperm whales is a singular day. With all of the other events that happened this day, our adventure was well underway.
The Endeavour had left Santa Maria in the Azores late in the afternoon of the 16th and was on a course of 123° headed for Madeira. The seas were calm and the wind was behind us creating pleasant conditions on the fore deck. By noon we had seen a small pod of dolphins and a few Leach’s Storm-Petrels. Suddenly, Ruth pointed to starboard at a splash in the water. Soon a fin appeared and then three bulbous heads. We were uncertain about what we were seeing.
With skillful maneuvering, the Captain reversed course and drew along side the pod of eight sperm whales, two of them young. The whales had likely been feeding and were relaxing on the surface. A few, when at the surface, did not even blow; others exhaled gently, suggesting that they had been at the surface for some time and had already resupplied themselves with oxygen.
Their dark bodies made the water brown as they swam just under the surface. Some, when their lighter bellies turned towards us, made the water green and we could follow their slow movement just under the surface. When they surfaced, we could see the single blow hole at the very front of their bodies but visibly to the left of the midline, a trait in all toothed whales and dolphins. The young, a bit lighter in color, seemed to bob to the surface more easily. It was, in fact, a remarkable experience being so close to one of the behemoths of the deep, indeed, the one that battles the giant squid a mile or two beneath the surface. We were reminded of the struggles of Captain Ahab in the classic, Moby Dick.
Today’s experiences were not all derived from one of the largest of the marine animals. Sometimes, beauty comes in smaller packages. Just after sunrise, a scan of the deck revealed a small black bird snuggled quietly beneath the towel container near the pool. With a little gentle nudging, a small storm petrel was dislodged and taken in hand. Placed for safe keeping in a pillow case, the Leach’s Storm-Petrel later made his photographic debut on the bow just after breakfast. With camera shutters of our guests clicking away furiously, the storm petrel survived its notoriety and was soon released. It flew unerringly away from the ship. Later in the day we watched others of its kind cross the bow in search of either a nesting island or its dinner.
Storm Petrels are called by the sailors, Mother Carey's chickens. In folklore, Mother Carey is the woman in charge of Fiddler's Green. She sees to it that her guests are comfortable and, from time to time, lets them visit the upper world. When such visits occur, the souls take the form of seabirds, known to sailors as storm petrels; for this reason, no real sailor will ever harm a storm petrel. Fiddler's Green in folklore is a large ship lying on the sea bottom at the equator that is the last home of drowned sailors. It is a happy place filled with music, ale and tobacco.
During the day we heard from Jim Kelley about the geologic history of the Azores, from Suzana D’Olivera about Madeira, our next port of call, and from Dennis Cornejo, our underwater specialist about the marine life on the shore of Santa Maria.
All days are not created equal and any day that you can see sperm whales is a singular day. With all of the other events that happened this day, our adventure was well underway.
