I wrote this ditty but it was never published. Might as well put on cyberspace and see what happens. No use keeping it on a thumb drive, so here it is.
I have read or heard somewhere that whales could communicate very long distances by using their special sounds produced at ultra sonic frequencies. These sounds (which are also used for echolocation) were able to carry huge distances by virtue of the relatively high density of the water compared to air, the medium through which land beasts communicate. However the advent of motorised vessels, with the attendant noise pollution, put paid to that cetacean gossip across the oceans. Have you heard whales? Have you ever heard that high pitched squeal inside your boat while sailing? The almost inaudible sounds most certainly herald a pod of whales in the area.
How common are whale sightings? What would a personal survey reveal? In twenty-two years of sailing I can recall a significant number of events relating to encounters. This is a casual recollection and is in no way meant to be a formal survey.
The killer whale (Orcinus orca) , 9 metres in length with a large triangular dorsal fin, and well defined black and white markings has never been known to kill a man intentionally. This fact was not the first to surface in my mind when, during a spell from building my first boat Wild Honey in New Zealand (NZ), I was fishing in a small dinghy when a large pod of killers cruised close by. The dumbstruck expression on my face conveyed the thoughts in my mind. I was then very mindful of the pictures in books of killers forcing seals (and maybe a sealer if caught by accident) into the water by tipping the ice floes they were on.
David Attenborough’s famous documentary scene where the killer whales swam close in shore to attack seals near the water’s edge was similar to the scene I saw at my home town of Mt. Maunganui, NZ, in 1978 when a family of a bull, cow and calf chased bream into the shallows, feeding on them while half grounded among a swirling mass of foam and suspended sand. This event took place in front of a popular stretch of sandy surf beach very close to my previous orca encounter.
Kaikoura is the town in NZ where tourists bet on a whale sighting (usually humpack or southern right). When I was returning up the east coast of the South Island during a circumnavigation of NZ with my family we decided to pass five miles off the coast to check our luck. No major whales were sighted, but on that windless blue morning while motoring over an oily sea and a building swell, we passed a magnificent lone killer. Later that evening the weather almost became the killer as we surfed under bare poles at up to twelve knots before a southerly gale.
The pilot whale (Globicephala melaena) gets its scientific latin name from the way it looks; black, with a large bulging forehead. Sometimes it is called the blackfish, although it is certainly not a fish. The name pilot whale is probably an inappropriate name however, because of its propensity for getting stuck in shallow waters. We have seen close up the tragic consequences of this at Great Barrier Island in NZ . However far from land they are seen in large numbers accompanying boats in transit over oceans. In 1981 I was in Wild Honey sailing in the Malololailai Port Vila regatta when a pod of pilots rushed up to us beam on in moderate seas, diving under us at the last moment and later riding the bow wave. Anything for a break in the day’s work of catching fish they squealed. I hung my feet over the side to touch their smooth skin, their friendly eyes looking at me as we surfed downwind.
The southern right whale (Balaena australis) grows to twenty metres and was so called
because their mouths contained the sought after flexible baleen plates, then a substitute for flexible steel. One surfaced very close to us, spraying whale breath and spume over us when we were cruising Rossel Island in Papua New Guinea, 1982. It slowly rolled over, revealing the white barnacle-like encrustations lining its dorsal surface and lateral fins.
I think whales were there in the rough water, but were difficult to see. Just beneath the surface of a storm tossed sea, the turbulence is much reduced and I imagine they were there in the relative calm laughing at the sailors. After a gale tossed Tasman crossing to Brisbane with my family in 1997 we were becalmed sixty miles short of our destination, but greeted by the sight of four humpback whales (Megaptera nodosa) feeding on the surface. These baleen feeders were rising vertically from the deep with their cavernous mouth open before rolling over on their side to dive and repeat the process. At Great Barrier Island, NZ I saw this behaviour close into shore, but in deep water. Our yacht Wild Bird was able to coast up to within fifty metres of them after we turned off the motor.
The Balearic Islands, Spain, was the most recent stage for a large whale sighting from Wild Bird in 2001. They were probably humpback whales again. I have seen large whales from a distance on half a dozen other occasions around Fiji and Tonga, but could not identify them.
Dolphins are also part of the mammal order Cetacea. Intelligence is certainly a defining characteristic of this mammal species, and play is a manifestation of this. Marion and I were on our honeymoon voyage aboard our first yacht Wild Honey in 1980 when we sailed into Mimiwhangata Bay, NZ, and found several common dolphins (Delphinus delphis) swimming in shallow water. Well, we had to don our masks and snorkels to swim with the dolphins in the shallows of that remarkably clear cool water. They appeared to be enjoying themselves darting at great speed around us, not quite within touching distance. I have seen common dolphins in a group of many hundreds off Durville Is, NZ, in 1995. It must have been a dolphin jamboree, and some were leaping metres into the air, sometimes spinning, and landing on their backs. A great meeting on one of those magic glassy calm Cook Strait mornings.
Dolphins are gregarious. When we were safely tucked into a cove in D’Urville Is, a lone dolphin called Durvo by our two children, came to the stern of our boat while we were tied back to a tree. Durvo was tossing around a piece of seaweed, squealing all the time, coming to our duckboard and offering the seaweed . We could touch this chap. Durvo hung around for a day before he lost interest in us.
Not so common are the tiny Hector’s dolphin that inhabit Fouveaux Strait and Banks Peninsula, NZ. We were drifting slowly east through the Strait in light conditions at night under a full moon. Little Hector’s dolphins were trailing only metres behind, keeping pace with Wild Bird all night. In our cockpit that night we were reminded of their presence by the constant gentle woosh of air moving through their single nostril. Why were they there? What interest did we provide? Did they enjoy our company?
Of course nothing compares with the magnificent show put on by dolphins on a dark moonless night when they ignite their rockets and light up the waters with ribbons of glowing phosphorescence.
The dolphins are always there to play with, admire, and photograph from the bow of our boat. I hope they will always be there, and likewise their cousins the larger whales. After all, if mankind perishes and whales survive, they will be able to communicate across the oceans again.
INFORMATION BOX
Some thoughts on whale behaviour.
The brain size of cetaceans is large in comparison to its body size. Complicated communication signals between whales would require a large brain as does a complex repertoire of behaviour patterns. Sleep is a necessary adjunct for a functioning brain and I think that some whale collisions are simply crashing into sleeping whales. Of course I also think that some collisions may be the result of defensive behaviour when
calves are with the parent whale. I have heard anecdotal evidence of using depth sounders to warn off a whale or even the use of certain coloured antifouling as a visual repellent. Nothing proved here though.
Dolphins certainly have extremely good eyesight as they do not accidentally take trailed lures in my experience.
The sound we hear through the hull of the boat is carried easily in cold, dense water, and passes through high density media like steel very easily. It is analogous to the way sound travels a long way on a still cold morning, as opposed to mid day when air is warmer and less dense.
Play is a function of intelligence. It is necessary in young mammals to develop adult behaviour to its full potential. However the play and curiosity exhibited by adults is typical of most ‘intelligent’ mammals such as dogs, cats, and primates such as humans.
Riding the bow wave of boats appears to be a play behaviour, an initial curiosity aroused when whales hear the motor or water disturbance around a sailing craft. Thumpng on the hull or playing a musical instrument seems to attract them in the same way that the sound of the motor seems to bring dolphins from a distance.
The large brain size is necessary for complex learned behaviour and also for the production of sounds that are used for both communication and echo location.