May 27 09
A few thoughts on Whale WatchingRecently I went whale watching with my fiance and sister. We got to go free because my sister's friend's parents own one of the whale watching companies in town. When my sister called me up one Saturday and asked if we wanted to go, I jumped at the opportunity. What fun!
We grabbed our camera gear and headed down. After a lecture on safety, we donned our oversized orange suits and got into the boat. I was more excited about the ride in a zodiac than I was about seeing wildlife. And I regretted not putting on sun screen.
After 45 minutes of waves and wind we found the pod of black and white beasts. Our driver explained that they were most likely feeding because of the commotion and splashing they were making. He turned the motor down to a dull hum, and we kept our distance. He said that we weren't bothering the whales at all because the boat was so quiet. Upon our arrival the animals started heading in the other direction. We sped up a bit and followed.
Our driver then explained that orcas have incredible hearing, and can catch the clicks made by other pods almost 50 kilometers away. Why, I thought, is the hum of our boat no bother if their ears can span the distance we just traveled?
To our driver's surprise the animals were spending a lot of time under water, holding their breath for much longer than normal. I began to wonder if this was because of the impact our presence was having. A number of other boats were showing up, and we created a ring, at whose centre swam helpless animals trying to reach its edge. We were being pests, and one boat in particular was getting too close.
I started to get angry. The largest boat out there was chasing them, trying to get closer. They were driving the animals away, and surely stressing them out in the process. We were surrounding them with human noise, confusing them from every angle.
We stupid humans who view wildlife like its on display just for us, setting ourselves apart from the rest of the "animal kingdom" because we've made ourselves different. What's wrong with us? Why do we feel the need to poke our ignorant heads into another species' existence long enough to look around, make a mess, get bored and leave? A species that we've deemed inferior. Here we were, gallivanting around in our self-made thrones, trampling across this planet like we owned it.
And yet, that's what sets us apart from the rest of the animals on this planet. The need to explore, and expand our minds. Our curiosity with the unknown. The lack of satisfaction with the status quo. And that's the reason we can't seem to live harmoniously with anything. We're never satisfied. We always want more, at any cost. And I'm human too. I'm the pot, calling the kettle black.
We never got close enough to the pod to get great photos. But that was okay. I wanted to go home. I was torn between that human drive to get closer to the unknown, and the sick, guilty feeling that we were interfering with something we weren't meant to.
The whales had outsmarted us, because the next time they rose for air they were on the horizon. I cheered silently for them. They had won.
