This can happen to you when sailing from one place to another, slowly, gentle breeze, the sea surface almost flat, just a few ripples; then the wind dying completely and the boat drifting in some random direction carried by an almost imperceptible current, the sky clear and so bright it hurts your eyes, no land in view only barren sea, a great intense space empty and silent, and then…pffff… a long lazy slow-motion pfff, and you know it’s a whale, and your heart starts, and adrenalin hits you so violently you feel tiny needles in your arms and legs, and you know it’s a whale but you don’t see it, you missed it, so close to the boat, and you look with all your eyes and you scan the sea in all the directions and you know: next time he comes out for air you will see him for sure.
There he is, coming slowly, like a delayed miracle, pffff, closer this time, just next to the boat, his dark back smooth and shiny, his wet eye looking at you. He circles the boat closer and closer, worried, why are you not sailing, why is the boat drifting like that, do you need help? The water is so clear and completely transparent that when he decides to pass under, just a few feet below the boat, you see every detail on his body. It is a young humpback whale; about thirty feet long, with dark back, a small dorsal fin, two white pectoral fins, and a powerful elegant tail. You are looking down as if suspended in the air. A whale is flowing beneath your feet.
He decides to stay with the boat for a while, to make sure everything is OK, coming out for air every few minutes sometimes really close. Sometimes he swims on his side his white belly shining through the water, showing off, here I am, look what I can do, how are you, nice to meet you!Share