Whale Fart Research Update

This just in...from contributor Krista Knight...

I'm in for a few hundred dollars to support research about the
whale-farting theory. In fact...I just googled it...according to the internet, you have witnessed one rare sighting. A whale fart was first photographed in Antarctica in 2003. 'Whale flatulence stuns scientists': "We got away from the bow of the ship very quickly ... it does stink,".
I swear, I am not making this up!

*************
Gary here...not sure whether I'd want to see that photograph!

LAND HO UPDATE

We were just talking about our "Land Ho" history for the trip. Apparently, Gary sighting land first is almost as rare as witnessing a whale fart. Here is the scoreboard:

Marquesas - Lo
Tuamotus (Raroira, Kauehi, and Fakarava) - Lo
Tuamotus (Raraka) - Lo and Gary
Tahiti - Lo and Gary
Bora Bora - Lo
Palmerston - Lo
Nuie - Lo
Tonga - Lo
NZ - Lo
Raivavae - Lo
Tuamotus (Fakarava, Toau, Raraka) - Lo
Marquesas - Lo
Hawaii - Gary
Vancouver Island - Gary

Interestingly, Gary is the king of ship spotting, soundly thrashing Lo, showing that he is awake on his watches (most of the time).

Island in the Sun

Ship's Log - 0600 - 9 August 2006 - The looming dawn is slowly revealing a low-lying smudge across the horizon. Land? Cloud? Our current position is N48.5 W126.3 and our chart shows us 40 miles off the town of Ucluelet on the SW coast of Vancouver Island. The continued sharpening of the early light now confirms the vision...LAND HO!!! With about 125 miles to go to Victoria, the coastline will be tantalizing us for another day yet. Our predicted weather is fair, with light winds pushing us along...a fitting ending for this slower than usual passage. Last night we passed through the coastal fishing fleet. We might just drop the fishing lure in for another go! The sun just peaked over the horizon...looks like a gorgeous BC summer day.

Whale of a Tale!

We (48N 128W) are about 160 miles off Cape Flattery. Saw our first bull kelp fronds this morning...a definite sign of home!

While cruising along at about 4 kts in a following sea last night, I heard what sounded like a big wave crashing against the hull...except the seas were calm and not breaking. Popping my head out the companionway, I saw the hulking back lying about 30 meters behind the boat. Lo, Lo, LOOOOOOOOOO, WHALES! Get UP!!!

While completely overcast, the diffuse moonlight filtering through the clouds made for an ethereal setting. PPSSSSSSHHHHH went the spout a mere ten metres off the port quarter, directly up wind, leaving us misted in the spray. Then another, 50m to starboard, and another, right next to the boat...we were surrounded! Based on the somewhat limited lighting and their breathing profiles, we're guessing that they were grey whales. Despite only seeing their backs between the blow hole and the dorsal fin, they were massive...at least as long as the boat. Having these behemoths within 5 meters of the boat with the 2 meter running seas did make us a bit nervous, especially considering the sometimes tragic history of whales and sailboats.

After the next giant spouted upwind, we were inundated in a fetid stench. After mutual accusations of flatulence, we realized that it was the whale. The discovery led this pair of scientists to pose the probing question of whether whales can actually fart? Or, was it a belch cloud or just plain old whaleitosis? The fact that we had been misted earlier without the associated aromatic gases suggests farting or belching, since these guys are likely on the same diet out here. Sadly, we doubted that there would be much interest in funding this critical research.

One of the whales was apparently amorous of Demelza, hanging around her for two hours. He would slowly approach from the stern...50m, 30m, 10m...until he was virtually surfing down the waves towards our transom. PPPPSSSSSSSTTTTT. One last breath before swimming right under the boat, within meters (we even picked him up on the depth sounder) of the transom. "Please don't break off our rudder accidentally or think that we are an upside-down whale that needs righting...or a sexy female that needs...." He must have done a circuit every five minutes or so. While it was hard to see him under water, twice we saw huge white flashes vanishing underneath the boat...we thought that he had turned on his back as he passed under us, exposing the belly. We were truly impressed by the agility they all showed avoiding contact with us in such close quarters and seas.

Lo lamented that it would have been nice to see them breaching. I wasn't so sorry given their obvious fascination with us, imagining how one slight misstep in the whale ballet would render our boat into little pieces.

We were in variable winds and he/they adjusted pace accordingly to stay right with us. Every now and again, they showed us glimpses of their swimming abilities by darting past us, leaving only a wake and a fleeting trail of bioluminescence. Needless to say, this was a pretty special "welcome home" for us!

Waiter...I'll have the Tuna!

Dawn is breaking on the eastern horizon in a blaze of orangey-red under a grey sky. Cape Flattery and the mouth of Juan de Fuca are less than 300 miles away. We finally have some decent wind...20 kts associated with a passing low pressure system. It really seems strange to be zipping along at 6 kts after spending most of this passage between 3 and 4 kts. And to think, we were totally becalmed a mere 12 hours ago!

We've had some interesting times the past few days. About 4 days ago we set our record for least miles covered in a day...28! Yesterday we finally threw out the fishing gear and landed a nice albacore tuna within a hour (you'd wait longer in many restaurants and the fish wouldn't be nearly as fresh!). What a beautiful fish...the girth was truly amazing, like a torpedo. I had already made up a nice sockeye salmon salad (from canned salmon), which was supposed to be a treat. Well, a nice sesame-encrusted fillet accompanied by wasabi/soy/sesame sauce soon made us forget the other "treat". Today, during the dead calm of the afternoon, we saw two sharks. One massive fin (which we first mistook for a big albatross sitting on the water) then another shark right near the boat...close enough that we could see the change in colour from the darker dorsal to the white belly and lower face on the powerful 3-m body. A great white? Quite possibly, since we are within 60 miles of the Cobb Seamount (worth a Google), which apparently (thanks Mike) is frequently by great whites. We have place a moratorium on our swims off the aft ladder (okay, we weren't really swimming anymore because of the 14C water, but now we can say it is because of the sharks and not because we're wimps).

Wait a second...red sky at night, sailor's delight...red sky in the morning, sailor's take...... Gotta run and make sure we're all battened down.

Playing Chicken on the Orient Express

We've run out of wind and we're getting bored. Anyone for a game of chicken??? We seem to have found the shipping express route between the Americas and the Orient. We've encountered as many as 3 ships in one night, coming as close as 3 miles. It's baffling to realize, after speaking to ship officers on the VHF radio, that they knew nothing of our presence. Not only have they not visually seen us (not looking for a single light at night perhaps), but they haven't initially found us on their radar either. When asked, most of them can find us with some adjustment to the sensitivity of their radar. Great...that doesn't help us much. Needless to say, we're keeping our eyes peeled!

Once spotted, we track them on our radar to determine if we're on a collision course. If so, then we aim straight for them, screaming like lunatics and unwavering in our course, to see who wins the game of chicken. But seriously, if we might collide, we actually ask them to alter course to avoid us, which they do graciously and politely. English has yet to be the first language spoken by any of the officers we've encountered. After contacting one ship to inform them that they were safely past us and could resume course, the english-speaking officer mustn't have been around as the reply came "Momento, momento! Officer in toiletta!".

Hawaii to Vancouver - Part 2 - Finding the High

As we said in the last post, it was more a matter of the high finding us! While we motored for the first day, it was slow going due to the seas whipped up by the front that had passed. By then we had used up our fuel allocation (we always keep some in reserve in case we need it in the later stages of the passage) so we had to try to sail as best we could.

Our daily average plummeted as we only managed 50 or 60 miles in 24 hours (almost as slow as we could swim). We busied ourselves as we literally drifted along by reading and doing lots of baking. The smell of bread baking at sea and fresh hot chewy cookies will lift any dampened spirit! We also had two black-footed albatross and a couple of storm petrels that kept us company daily, following us for over a week. One morning, Lo was apparently the entertainment for the morning for the albatross couple sitting on the water a couple hundred yards away, as she was patiently trying to turn the boat around by pumping the wheel, to at least FACE towards home, in the glassy calm seas. Each morning at around 6 am, they'd do a ritualistic fly-by Demelza - literally only 15 ft from the stern or bow - to scope things out. Amazing birds. After seeing so many of them for so long now, their wing span (at least 10 ft) still amazes us.

We also spotted two pods of dolphins doing amazing aerials while feeding at the water surface, both times just a couple of hundred yards ahead of us. It was so calm that we could hear their splashes! They apparently don't like whales, as they took off while we were screaming our best whale impersonations at the top of our lungs like the couple of crazed lunatics we were after 10 days of bobbing.

Hawaii to Vancouver - Part 1 - Flying

We left Hilo (Hawaii) of two minds...reluctant, having had such a great time there and dreading yet more time at sea, but excited about the final stage of the trip...home to family and friends. Like a thoroughbred out of the gates, we loosened our grip on the reins and let Demelza gallop away to the NNW. Yes, that was no typo, the general strategy for getting home is to head around the western side of the NE Pacific high pressure system (the same system that gives BC those glorious summer days) then over the top of it, using its predictable winds. For most boats, that takes them to about 35 or 40N and 160W. You don't want to end up in the middle, or there is no wind. So, we headed NW...straight for Tokyo...but averaging 120 miles a day, which is very fast for us.

Now, the general strategy is of course subject to the vagaries of weather, which were clearly playing havoc with the High on the weather charts we were receiving. Like some amoeba on crack, this thing was nothing like the "typical" high for which the strategy was based. In fact, some of the boats that left a few weeks before us just went straight home, not having to contend with the beast at all. We ran into its thin westerly-protruding arm at about 33N. We turned on the motor and the seas gradually became glassy calm. So much so that we could see garbage floating on the surface. We fashioned a sampling device with our colander and the boat pole and zig-zagged our way from each object to the next, collecting them and plopping them into a bucket of seawater. They were teaming with life...small islands with relatively massive creatures (e.g., gooseneck barnacles and crabs) attached or clinging to their surfaces. These floating reefs, formerly plastic jugs, gin bottles or fishing floats, also provided shelter for small fish. This provided us with entertainment for the better part of a day! Based on the type of garbage and the markings on the plastic containers, we guess that Asian fishermen were the most likely source.

To pass some time, and wash up, we jumped overboard and went for mid-ocean swims (one at a time). Lo swam out to a bottle floating along the surface and sunk it, watching it for what seemed eternity in the clear blueness. A cute little Sergeant Major (black and white striped fish), who was seeking refuge under Demelza's hull, swam out to check out Gary as he swam by.

After a day and a half of motoring, we hit the wind again...big time. A front passed through and we were flying again, in large seas that were such a contrast to the flat lake-like water we'd traversed just days before. The rain poured down on us...COLD! Where were the 30C showers of the tropics? Brrrrr! Just when we thought we had turned the corner onto the homeward stretch, BAM!, the amoebic high alters shape and swallows us entirely. At first, we weren't that disappointed, having nice weather to dry out our gear. But then...(see next post).

Hello Hilo!

After much debate as to how our supplies would fair if we kept going direct to Canada, our stomachs finally won and we decided to stop in Hilo for some provisions. The prospect having only two zucchinis, some squash and some pomelo grapefruit for the month remaining in our passage was somewhat discouraging from the fresh food perspective. Of course we arrived at Hilo at night, but since we had the detailed chart and really wanted some solid sleep, we pressed on into the harbour (finally being able to assume that the local navigation lights were all working [an assumption that is not valid throughout most of the South Pacific]).

Awaking from our "comas" the next morning, we re-anchored with our stern to the wharf and stumbled onto shore. We were amazed at how hard it was to walk, with much of our leg muscles atrophied since leaving NZ. Adding insult to injury, the inner harbour was miles out of town with little to do in close proximity...a car would be a necessity if we wanted to make full use of our short time here, a sentiment confirmed by other cruisers at the dock!

Our check in with US Customs was amazing...the friendliest and most efficient experience of our trip. The customs officer even gave us an orientation on the town (with accompanying map) and tips on "not to miss" hot spots (pardon the pun). Here are the highlights of our stay:

The Mall - Our first stop, believe it or not, since we had to wait for the car rental shop to open after lunch break. We walked around like a couple of hillbillies in downtown NYC...look at all the pretty things! Amazingly, we were both really stiff from the high level of exertion after this "extreme" outing (seriously, we were).

Breakfast at Ken's - A local diner-style 24 hr restaurant that did not disappoint. The waitress called Gary "Sweetie" and the heaping lot of food took less than 10 minutes to get to our table. Lo got 5 kinds of syrup for her wholewheat pancakes ("maple", boysenberry, passionfruit, coconut, and guava). Gary got to make his favourite "pig in the blanket" with pancakes, poached eggs and, of course, the pig (bacon AND ham - Americans certainly don't skimp on portions!). Mmmmm. We ate there twice!

Volcano National Park - Recommended by a number of sources, this spot did not disappoint. Enshrouded by cloud, we drove steadily up, up, up, out of Hilo with low expectations of seeing much in the way of volcanos. Just over the saddle, we were amazed to see the thick fog rapidly dispersing, revealing the series of huge craters and lava fields that make up the park. The five mile (8 km) hike through Kilauea Iki (the smaller crater) was like a marathon for us. The forested section was wonderful with such amazing species of trees. On the return trip back to the car, we also hiked through an underground lava tube that was pretty neat.

Fourth of July Fireworks - Since we could hardly walk after our crater hike, we decided to have a picnic in the car (parked at the edge of the wharf overlooking the bay) and take in the fireworks. The show was amazing, despite the rain squalls that eventually seemed to soak the fireworks, leaving big gaps in the highly orchestrated performance.

Puna Lava Flows - Hot, bright red, molten magma flowing into the ocean in a steamy, sparky display. What else can be said? These fireworks did not disappoint either, making the 4 hours of hiking over a dried lava field well worth it (we are starting to feel like we're in boot camp). We timed the excursion to arrive at the best spot to view the magma just before sunset, then even more dramatically in the dark, enjoying our picnic dinner and then doing the return hike with headlamps.

Mauna Kea Observatories - Our friend Peter, the ham radio operator in San Francisco, raved about this attraction, so we decided to give it a go. Mauna Kea, a 13K foot extinct volcano, has proven to be a world class location to view the night sky. The rangers put on an evening viewing program that includes informative documentaries (about the telescopes, environment, history, use conflicts, traditional navigation) and the use of about 5 moderate size telescopes. We had close looks at the moon, Jupiter, and several prominent stars, in addition to a "tour" of the constellations. Hot chocolate was a favourite with the guests as the temperature plummeted to around the freezing level after dark!

Provisioning - With a local farmer's market and real grocery stores, the variety and prices of available food did not disappoint us one bit! We still managed to spend well over what we would normally spend in a month in Vancouver...must be psychological...fear of going hungry. We even managed to find some dry ice to help some of it last a bit longer. Bon appetit!