San Ignacio Lagoon, Baja California Sur, Mexico
Last is not always least, not when it comes to the California gray whale. Today is the last day of the entire 2007/2008 gray whale watching season here aboard the National Geographic Sea Bird, and of course we saved the best for last.
Our weather has finally calmed down allowing us good access into San Ignacio lagoon where mother gray whales are getting in the last few days of time with their calves in these protected waters before migrating north to the Bering and Chukchi seas. The young whales have grown perceptibly since I saw them late in January, and now 8 to 9 weeks later they have really come into their own. Drinking 189 liters of milk a day that contains 53% fat has a tendency to do that!
Their curiosity has grown as well, and today many of us were on the receiving end of that curiosity. The calves actually approached our Zodiacs, often lifting their heads out of the water to get a good look at the strange creatures within. Some even allowed us to gently place our hands on their heads and noses.
I often wonder just how that must feel from a baby whale's perspective. Do we feel as smooth, cool, and blubbery to them as they do to us? Do they feel the indescribable excitement that we do upon contact? Do all of our laughing, shouting, singing, and chatter pique their curiosity?
Then late in the afternoon, on the very last run of the day, a few calves decided to punctuate our imminent departure with several breaches and head-lunges. This is how I will remember another remarkable season with California gray whales here on board the National Geographic Sea Bird.
As we finally boarded the ship for our run south to Cabo San Lucas, I quietly whispered a farewell wish to these delightful young whales – "que les vayan bien, compadres…" ( that you travel well, my friends!)
Last is not always least, not when it comes to the California gray whale. Today is the last day of the entire 2007/2008 gray whale watching season here aboard the National Geographic Sea Bird, and of course we saved the best for last.
Our weather has finally calmed down allowing us good access into San Ignacio lagoon where mother gray whales are getting in the last few days of time with their calves in these protected waters before migrating north to the Bering and Chukchi seas. The young whales have grown perceptibly since I saw them late in January, and now 8 to 9 weeks later they have really come into their own. Drinking 189 liters of milk a day that contains 53% fat has a tendency to do that!
Their curiosity has grown as well, and today many of us were on the receiving end of that curiosity. The calves actually approached our Zodiacs, often lifting their heads out of the water to get a good look at the strange creatures within. Some even allowed us to gently place our hands on their heads and noses.
I often wonder just how that must feel from a baby whale's perspective. Do we feel as smooth, cool, and blubbery to them as they do to us? Do they feel the indescribable excitement that we do upon contact? Do all of our laughing, shouting, singing, and chatter pique their curiosity?
Then late in the afternoon, on the very last run of the day, a few calves decided to punctuate our imminent departure with several breaches and head-lunges. This is how I will remember another remarkable season with California gray whales here on board the National Geographic Sea Bird.
As we finally boarded the ship for our run south to Cabo San Lucas, I quietly whispered a farewell wish to these delightful young whales – "que les vayan bien, compadres…" ( that you travel well, my friends!)