Text: Sarah Borchert. Picture: Olimpia Cavriani. Article from the December 2012 issue of Africa Geographic Magazine.
Sarah Borchert grabs the opportunity to share boat-based whale watching with her family.
Mom?’ My five-year-old daughter’s sea-grey eyes glistened with unshed tears and her bottom lip quivered ominously. ‘When can we go home?’
‘Yes,’ wailed her younger sister, burying herself into my lap. ‘It’s too noisy. I don’t like it.’ My heart sank. We were just five minutes into a much-anticipated family trip to watch southern right whales and the grunting diesel engines of the Whale Whisperer, Dyer Island Cruises’ custom-built whale-watching craft, had barely propelled us out of the harbour. It was, I thought wearily, going to be a very long three hours.
The morning had started well enough. Despite having a notoriously elastic attitude towards time, we – my husband and I, two young daughters and my mother – had made the two-hour drive from Cape Town to Gansbaai, a fishing village better known as the country’s shark-cage diving capital, in good time for the boat’s launch. The safety briefing, given in camera at the company’s HQ, The Great White House, by marine biologist Michelle Wcisel, was chatty, upbeat and, I was to discover later, very helpful.
The weather, which had scuppered two previous attempts to watch whales, was also playing along. It was October, the middle of ‘whale season’ along South Africa’s southern coast. This is when southern rights have left their feeding grounds in the Antarctic, migrating 3 000-4 000 kilometres north to spend July through to December close inshore, mating and giving birth. A gentle spring sun and brisk south-easterly wind had turned conditions, if not exactly ideal, then as close to it as we were going to get. Brushing aside skipper Albert Sholtz’s caution that ‘we might have to do some wave jumping’, we bounded aboard, feeling ready for anything. Or not.
Hugging my younger daughter and trying to will her sister out of her anxiety, we left the harbour and blasted through the breakers, protected from the spray by the boat’s bespoke plastic flaps that are lowered and raised by the crew as required.
Within 15 minutes, Albert had found the shark-cage diving boat belonging to Dyer Island Cruises’ sister company Marine Dynamics. Pulling up alongside, he cut the engines and in the pulsing calm that followed, we watched as several triangular fins sliced through the water in classic Hollywood style. Except that, without the ominous soundtrack, the great grey shapes that swam up to and under the Whale Whisperer seemed the epitome of elegance and sleek beauty to me.
Fast facts
Southern right whale Eubalena australis
Length Up to 18 metres.
Weight 50-56 tonnes.
Appearance Right whales are distinguished by their lack of dorsal fins and are characterised by roughened skin patches called callosities.
Gestation 12-13 months.
Conservation status Right whales have been protected from international whaling since 1935 and numbers of the southern species appear to be increasing, with population estimates between 6 000 and 10 000 and a growth rate of six to seven per cent. Northern right whales, however, are not faring as well.
I’ve been shark-cage diving before and I felt now, as I did then, a vague sense of unease at luring the ocean’s greatest predator to the boats under false pretences. (The oil slick created by the chum is simply a smell, designed to attract curious sharks to the boat.) It seems a little disrespectful somehow. Then again, if the overriding impression it engenders is one of awe and admiration (and a brief glance through the testimonials on the Marine Dynamics website shows that I’m not alone there), then it’s probably worth it.
Certainly the sharks were enough to pique my young daughter’s interest. Even her older sister, slightly less anxious now, began to emerge from the protective cocoon of my mother’s arms.
The engines roared and we were off again. Albert had spotted a whale. Stopping short of the 50-metre limit dictated by the whale-watching permit, we looked on as a 14-metre mother flanked by her eight-metre calf lolled about in the water. Initially the mom tried to keep herself positioned between her baby and the boat, but the youngster’s playful ducking and diving soon brought it closer to us.
‘Mom!’ squeaked my first-born, the last of her anxiety now mercifully forgotten. ‘The baby whale looks like a hippo!‘ She and her father scurried upstairs to the viewing deck (another custom feature of the Whale Whisperer) where they practised saying ‘callosities’, those gnarled growths that distinguish southern rights from other whale species. ‘Dad!’ I heard her cry. ‘Do you think we’ll even see an albatross?’ Overhearing her, Albert kept his eyes peeled. No albatrosses showed up, but we did see a great-winged petrel, which was just as exciting.
Reluctantly we moved on, only to come across a pair of whales mating, which is apparently unusual that late in the season. I’d like to tell you how moved I was at the sights (and sounds!) of the world’s largest mammal making more of the world’s largest mammals, but I’m afraid I can’t. I barely saw them as I was fixing my eyes with growing desperation on the horizon.
Michelle’s earlier advice about how to deal with seasickness – ‘Staying in the fresh air and focusing your attention on the horizon makes lots of people feel better. Think of something else!’ – was coming in handy. With my youngest now fast asleep in my lap and secured with one hand, and clutching a regrettably necessary seasick bag in the other, I saw very little else of the whales (there were many), the sharks (silent and quick) and the honking seal colony on Dyer Island (dear heavens, the smell) as we cruised up and down Shark Alley.
‘Mom!’ squeaked my first-born, ‘the baby whale looks like a hippo!
If you are going to succumb to a bout of seasickness, there are no finer people to help you through it than the crew of the Whale Whisperer. Marine guide Francesca Manca’s previous training as a flight attendant proved invaluable as she patiently revived my flagging will to live. Without her kindness and attention, those three hours would have seemed a lot longer.
That evening, much restored after a ginger ale and an afternoon doze on a sunlit patch of lawn in front of the chalets at The Great White House, I was gathered up by my family and taken for a short drive. We ended up at a lookout point over Walker Bay, part of the provincial nature reserve of the same name. Electing to stay with the car, I leaned against the bonnet and watched my husband, my mother and the two blonde heads of my daughters bobbing up and down amongst the fynbos as they tripped along the coastal path looking for sea-shells. The setting sun had painted the sky shades of pale gold and slate, and three whales blew and rolled and breached 200 metres from the shore.
As I gazed out across the bay, it crossed my mind that, perhaps, you didn’t have to brave the high seas to get close to whales. If you sat and waited, they might come to you. Then I thought of my daughters’ excited yelps, flushed cheeks and eyes that had, despite their earlier reservations, shone bright with excitement. Of course it was worth it. But next time (and there will definitely be one), I’ll be taking drugs.
Dyer Island Cruises’ USP
Just before our safety briefing, Claudine O’Connor – or ‘Tannie’ Claudine, as she is known (earning every inch the ubiquitous Afrikaans mark of respect) – had put us through our paces about the work of the Dyer Island Conservation Trust, its African penguin project and how we could get involved.
The Trust, supported by the efforts of its ecotourism siblings Marine Dynamics and Dyer Island Cruises, funds a number of worthwhile conservation and education initiatives. It also enables researchers – who earn their keep as crew members for the shark and whale trips – to conduct critical studies into sharks, whales, seals and seabirds, compiling data that are used to inform conservation strategies.
The result has benefits all round. Passengers on the boat trips are treated to the most up-to-date information on the species they are seeing, and vital studies and conservation efforts get the support they need, www.dict.org.za
| More info on the town of Gansbaai | More info on the Overberg area |
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