Big Dreams Come True - A Maui Whale Encounter

One thing I have learned about dreams is you have to keep them alive by constantly putting out there what you want. Sure, its fun to make a birthday wish when you blow out the candle, but it's a more powerful wish if you tell others what you want out loud.  That's the trick to manifesting - stating clearly what you want - and the more times the better.  That's why I'm always inviting whales to show up when I'm diving. My divers ask if we will see them and I always say it's possible!

March is high season on Maui for Humpback whales to the point that you can look out at the ocean and within a minute, spot a whale somewhere on the horizon.  And on every single dive I do in the ocean I can hear them singing. It never gets old. I'm always mesmorized by the song.  Of course, I want more. I want to see whales underwater. I've said that statement every day to literally hundreds of people. And the whales get closer and closer.

I recently went out paddling with the Maui Outrigger Paddle Club - you know, those long Hawaiian boats that seat six or seven people with the little outrigger on the side? I see the outrigger paddlers every morning because we share the same put-in for the ocean.  And last week they invited, "Smiley Snuba Sara" to go with them.  Such a beautiful opportunity.

It was amazing. A wonderful workout - as we all had our wooden Kialoa paddles and would paddle fifteen strokes on one side and then switch...for an hour and a half...or about five miles.  My boat had a family from Wisconsin sandwiched between two professional paddlers, Cynthia in front and Kapuna in back. The man behind me had trouble picking up the stroke at first and would splash sea water over my back when he switched sides with the paddle. I immediately gave him a hard time, pretending to be prissy, uptight and upset. "Peter," I'd say, "You know I'm not out here in the ocean to get wet!" or "Seriously Peter, get with the program." Soon we were all laughing and taking bets as to where we'd have to leave Peter if he splashed me one more time.

We got quite close to several pods of whales as they came up to breathe or breached with a full jump out of the water, or descended head first, their black and while tails silently slipping into the sea.  It was an amazing day for it, as there was no wind and the water was like melted glass - like a huge deep lake rather than an ocean of wonders. As we waited for the whales to re-surface to breathe, I marveled at the outrigger's reflection in the soft surface.



We were following are Humpback whales — Megaptera novaeangliae — which translates to "great white wings of New England." They are among the biggest animals on Earth, measuring between 39 and 52 feet in length and weighing 45 tons; and are are easily recognized by their humped dorsal fin and long pectoral fins, which can reach up to one-third their body length, (earning their wings name) - the longest appendages in the animal kingdom.  The whales seemed to tolerate us, not leaving immediately, and because I knew the Humpbacks use Maui for their nursery this time of year, I was worried we'd disturb the mothers here with their babies.

 

Cynthia explained a little. Humpback whales can swim at 15 miles per hour. At top speed, our outrigger craft can travel 6. They know where we are - they can hear us coming from miles away. If they wanted to, they could dive over a hundred feet down and vanish, but they don’t. It they wanted to, they could jump and crack our boat in half, but they don’t. Instead, these mothers patiently let us approach and look, making all this noise, only moving away at slow speeds, only diving for a moment or two, instead of twenty. We approached a mother, her calf and their male escort. We could see their black backs arching out of the water and hear them breathing as water shot out their blow holes. 

 The baby did a little spy hop - kicking his head up out of the water to see us better.

“Oh he’s so tiny!” I exclaimed.

“Sure. Tiny.” Cynthia said. “They weigh a ton a birth and then gain one hundred pounds a day during their stay here.”

“Oh, she’s approaching.” Kapuna said. “There. Under the outrigger. Oh.” Soon we could see a massive head in the deep blue water below us. She moved with just her huge white pectoral fins, not her tail, so she could inch up beside the boat, beneath the outrigger, and then turned so her eye could see us better. I looked down as she looked up and our eyes met. “Hello there.” I said outloud. “Good morning, Momma.” Her baby was tucked under her fin, and he swam up to balance on her nose. The water was crystal clear and in the absence of wind, we could clearly see the curves and features of her chin, the barnacles around her eye, the nobs on the ridges of her front fins.

“Oh. She’s coming up. Okay team, lean to the left and hold on!” Kapuna warned. The mother whale rose closer to the surface until there were just inches between us, and then with one swoosh of her tail, glided forward to the front of the boat.

“Baby on the nose.” Cynthia said. And sure enough, it was the baby we saw rise out of the water first. He immediately took a breath. The water boiled and up came his mother, very aware of the boat. It amazes me how something so large can have such incredible body awareness and grace. You would think whales bump into boats and paddle boards all the time. They don’t.

I asked - “Do you mind if I go in?” It wasn’t premeditated. It just came out of my mouth. I hadn’t joined the outrigger paddling expedition with the expectation of being able to swim with whales. It's just that there we were, and there they were and I had wanted for so long to see them underwater, in their element.

“You mean like out of the boat?”

“Yes.”

Kapuna looked thoughtful. “Uh…no. With the male escort here, the last thing we want to do is make him angry.”

“Oh. Good point.”

“Maybe later tho.”

“If you do go in,” Cynthia told me, “Just hold on to the boat. It’s illegal to swim with whales in Maui. But it’s okay if you are still attached to your craft.” Something in her tone told me that tourists don’t often want to go in with the whales.

Our pod of whales arched up and then dove head first, slowly showing their tails as they descended. The water became glassy and quiet once more. “On the outside.” Kapuna pointed, spotting a new pod of whales surfacing.”Let‘s go, team.” We picked up our paddles and approached.

“Looks like you are gonna get your chance, Miss Sara.” Kapuna said behind me, “Get ready.” My heart lept.

We paddled in sync, approaching the whale. It didn’t leave, but let us come up. We turned to the side so we were just 20 feet from it, and Kapuna said, “Okay, now.” Now or never, right? There was a mask at my feet, so I stood up and stepped in and sank into the deep blue. I could hear them immediately and there they were hovering below me. Three whales. One was just a tiny baby, nestled up next to its mother. They were facing away from me and I could see the white line that runs down their back bone and the white rim around their tails. I could see the barnacles on their heads. I came up for air, gasping “Oh my God!” and immediately sank back down, pushing under the weight of the smooth base of the canoe to hold myself down. The baby sang out a high pitched, “Boop!” sound. Playfully, I mimicked the sound, trying not to blow bubbles, just make the echo in my mouth. “Boop boop.” he said back. “Boop boop” I said in the same high pitch. They weren’t swimming away, they were just hovering there and I marveled at how massive these whales were. I really had no idea before this. I’ve never seen any living thing that size. They were longer than our boat, and it was evident they weighted tons, and yet they seemed completely relaxed. I could hear the people talking on the boat above me. I could hear other whales singing in the distance. “Boop!” I said to the baby once more. “Boop!” he called as they slowly moved their tails and became mere shadows fading into the distance, blending into blue.

Back on the surface, I kicked hard and pulled myself over the rim of the boat, careful not to rock things. Dripping wet and giggling, I pulled off the mask and glared at Peter. “Hey. You got me all wet!” I blamed. He laughed.

“Nice dive, Smiles. Now back to shore.” Kapuna said. “Back to work.”

As the paddlers picked up a racing speed, I tried my best to keep up. Fueled by adrenaline of having a close encounter with such magnificently huge mammals, I was able to match Cynthia’s speed, but only for a few moments. (Whereas, she’s capable of paddling like that for hours.)

Can you guess which one's me?



Three miles later, stepping back on land felt odd as we backed the outrigger on to the beach. I wanted to go back out. I wanted to go for a long swim. I wanted to stand and just watch the ocean, breathing it in, watching it change with the light, with the wind. It is home to me now, more home than our tiny one bedroom studio will ever be. And today I got to meet the seasonal neighbors I’ve wanted to see for so long in their element, in our element.

Closing my eyes, I can still see the white rims of their tails blending into the blue.

Photo Courtesy of dailymail.co.uk