There Leviathan,
Hugest of living creatures, in the deep
Stretched like a promontory sleeps or swims,
And seems a moving land; and at his gills
Draws in, and at his breath spouts out a sea.
John Milton, Paradise Lost.
Update: sadly, an accident with jet ski has possibly injured this creature
Moby-Dick is hailed as one of the greatest stories in English (American) literature and has become the subject of books, movies, plays, TV shows, witty metaphors, social lessons, and so forth. There are other whale-related stories (we can’t forget Free Willy), but Moby-Dick stands above the rest. I attempted to read Herman Melville’s epic when I was a teenager, and I felt immediately transported to a world of ships and whaling wonders. To be honest, I didn’t finish it. It was just too wordy for my liking at the time. I remember skipping to the ‘good parts’. With teenage hormones raging, I wanted some whale action!
Once again, I have skipped to the good parts in relation to whales. The quotes sprinkled throughout this post are from Melville's epic story, and so they contain a few literary spoilers. If you don't mind them, then welcome to this tale of the seas.
The acute policy dictating these movements was sufficiently vindicated at daybreak, by the sight of a long sleek on the sea directly and lengthwise ahead, smooth as oil, and resembling in the pleated watery wrinkles bordering it, the polished metallic-like marks of some swift tide-rip, at the mouth of a deep, rapid stream.*
From time to time, whales visit this side of the Pacific on their annual migrations between northern and southern latitudes. In winter, they spend their time in Baja California, Mexico, where they breed and chill out. As the waters warm up with the changing of the seasons, they trek back up on a 15,000-20,000 km (approx. 9320-12427 miles) from Mexico back up to the arctic waters off Alaska in the Bering and Chukchi seas. Like many Alaskan cruise ships each year, whales also make a detour towards the waters around downtown Vancouver before continuing their journey northward.
I was out for a walk the other day, when looking towards the ocean, I was astonished to see a jet of water blow into the air. What in the world was that?
“It’s a Grey whale,” one fellow sitting on a bench told me as I passed by. He must've seen the puzzled look on my face.
“That's amazing!” I said.
I continued walking along the seawall, my curiosity now piqued, and I didn't have to wait long before the creature surfaced from the bottom and blew up its misty streams.
From this height the whale was now seen some mile or so ahead, at every roll of the sea revealing his high sparkling hump, and regularly jetting his silent spout into the air.
The sun was glaring in the sky and shimmering on the water; among the dancing shadows and reflections, it was difficult to spot the mysterious creature lurking there.
I fiddled with my camera and attached the telephoto lens and I was still fiddling when I saw the spout in the air. I couldn’t see clearly in the glaring sun, so I shot wildly in the general direction of the whale, hoping for the best. As expected, a number of shots did not turn out well because of my chaotic technique, but a few of them came out alright.
“There she blows!—there she blows!—there she blows! There again!—there again!” he cried, in long-drawn, lingering, methodic tones, attuned to the gradual prolongings of the whale’s visible jets. “He’s going to sound! In stunsails! Down top-gallant-sails! Stand by three boats. Mr. Starbuck, remember, stay on board, and keep the ship. Helm there! Luff, luff a point! So; steady, man, steady! There go flukes! No, no; only black water! All ready the boats there? Stand by, stand by! Lower me, Mr. Starbuck; lower, lower,—quick, quicker!” and he slid through the air to the deck."
I saw its sleek spotted body rise out of the churning water and gliding over its back, which curved when the whale dove back beneath the waves.
What a spectacle it was. The animal was slow and deliberate, hanging out in the same general area in English Bay, and coming up to blow its spout, every five minutes or so. Sometimes, it flipped on its side, and the tip of its tail was visible above the water.
But soon resuming his horizontal attitude, Moby Dick swam swiftly round and round the wrecked crew; sideways churning the water in his vengeful wake, as if lashing himself up to still another and more deadly assault.
What could it be doing? Later, I learned that they are bottom feeders who enjoy a good shrimp meal spiced up with other crustaceans found in silty sandy bottoms. For the most part, they are shy and keep to themselves. Laws exist to protect them, such as staying away a 100 m distance from them and reducing speeds to avoid collisions. Unfortunately, accidents do happen, especially along narrow channels, ending up in catastrophic consequences for the whales.
A gentle joyousness—a mighty mildness of repose in swiftness, invested the gliding whale. Not the white bull Jupiter swimming away with ravished Europa clinging to his graceful horns; his lovely, leering eyes sideways intent upon the maid; with smooth bewitching fleetness, rippling straight for the nuptial bower in Crete; not Jove, not that great majesty Supreme! did surpass the glorified White Whale as he so divinely swam.
This whale's migration is said to be the longest mammal migration on the planet. It’s no wonder they need a layover in the Bay to rest a little and sample the local cuisine.
Humans were not alone in enjoying the spectacle that evening. Several seals also showed up and they hung around near where the whale was feeding, and they seemed to be aware of the leviathan that was helping itself to the all-you-can-eat buffet. The seals dove underwater themselves then came up for a breath of fresh air.
Nearby, the whale rose out of the water and jettisoned its misty streams into the shimmering air.
“There she breaches! there she breaches!” was the cry, as in his immeasurable bravadoes the White Whale tossed himself salmon-like to Heaven. So suddenly seen in the blue plain of the sea, and relieved against the still bluer margin of the sky, the spray that he raised, for the moment, intolerably glittered and glared like a glacier; and stood there gradually fading and fading away from its first sparkling intensity, to the dim mistiness of an advancing shower in a vale.
What an astonishing turn of events. I felt elated to see the creature with its gentle yet powerful demeanor, diving and rising again. Such sights have a way of reminding me that there's something even grander and more magnificent than I can imagine in the great scheme of things.
Now small fowls flew screaming over the yet yawning gulf; a sullen white surf beat against its steep sides; then all collapsed, and the great shroud of the sea rolled on as it rolled five thousand years ago.
*Quotes in italics from Moby-Dick; or, The Whale by Herman Melville
Sources
The Gray Whale Migration in California and Beyond
https://www.oceanicsociety.org/resources/the-gray-whale-migration-in-california-and-beyond/
Gray Whale- NOAA
https://www.fisheries.noaa.gov/species/gray-whale
MOBY-DICK; or, THE WHALE by Herman Melville
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