My Friend the Whale

St. Michael’s Mount

I have heard the occasional story of inquisitive Minke Whales hanging round boats at sea, and have always hoped that that might happen to me. But I never thought it would, because my fourteen foot little sliver of plastic upon which I sit can’t be that interesting to a twenty-five foot long, five-ton mega-creature. It’s the equivalent of me being interested in a wheelie-bin.

But yesterday that is precisely what happened.

Over the past five years I have seen nineteen Minke Whales from my kayak. All are absolutely thrilling encounters, but most are fleeting glimpses. My only view so far this year was a long back (plus fin) I saw out of the corner of my eye off Portscatho. A fraction of a second glimpse, and then nothing more.

They are elusive because unlike most whales they have no visible blow, and can cover very large distances between breaths.

It’s even more challenging watching these whales from a kayak because there is not a remote hope of keeping up with them (it’s difficult enough with dolphins!), so all you can do is sit tight and hope they surface nearby.

However a kayak has one significant advantage over a boat. It is completely silent so on a calm day you can hear the sound of the blow from a mile away…

And yesterday was very calm indeed, so I was on the water paddling out of Penzance Harbour before seven.

A good start: small groups of dolphins and porpoises were scattered about all over the place. The porpoises puffed and the dolphins splashed.

It was so incredibly flat that I headed way offshore, lured onwards by the Gannets that were milling around overhead, and the shearwaters that were wheeling and feeding low over the water.

I stopped to enjoy a more active pod of Common Dolphins, but was having a bit of a ‘mare behind the lens…couldn’t get anything in focus.

Dolphin sychro

Juvenile Dolphin giving it all he/she has got

So I was sitting about three miles offshore, when I heard that incredible sound…the prolonged blast of a breathing whale. It was so distant I knew I would not be able to see the owner of the sound (even though it was quite large, and viewing conditions were perfect), so I engaged top gear and set off towards the noise. Nothing for twenty minutes, then I saw a long back roll slowly at the surface far ahead. Fantastic, a Minke whale.

I selected biceps sport mode and ploughed on even faster, but the whale was not being cooperative. Usually they surface three or four times in relatively quick succession, so you can predict roughly where it will appear. This one surfaced only once or twice, then would disappear for five minutes, and come up half-a-mile away. Even more elusive than usual!

At least I managed to get a ‘record’ shot:

Minke Whale first encounter

Then it just vanished.

I paddled on for a few more miles, never out of earshot of a splash or a puff of dolphins or porpoises, and then headed back. I had originally planned to follow the coast back in, but couldn’t resist the promise of another whale so kept well offshore.

Duncan and Hannah plus passengers on board Shearwater II came along to enjoy the most sociable pod of dolphins of the day…good timing, and smiles all round!

Once again I heard the whale (or possibly another individual) far away, and once again I tracked it down after a long paddle. It passed by a little way off initially:

I then just sat tight and enjoyed the scenery, and tucked into my marmite sandwiches, hoping the whale might surface nearby. It most certainly did.

As I munched I noticed a swirl at the surface ten yards away, and then another much closer. OMG, it must be fluke prints from the whale which was hanging around under my kayak.

Then it appeared right out of the middle of one of the swirls! Yikes!

Minke Whale

How completely and utterly excellent is that! Not only can you appreciate the blast of exhalation, you can hear the air going IN down a huge pipe as well! Incredible.

The whoosh of a breathing whale is one of the greatest sounds in the animal kingdom. It’s even better when it’s right here in Cornwall, and from a kayak. No background engine noises to clutter it up.

I assumed that the whale had lost interest and disappeared, but far from it. It came straight back at me:

And it just hung around, surfacing several times directly behind my kayak and challenging the flexibility of my neck vertebrae.

Unbelievably, this continued for the best part of an hour, by which time we were firm friends.

The whale saved the best till last. It had spent a long time underwater and the swirls had stopped, but I waited with camera poised because I knew it wouldn’t leave without saying goodbye. I just wasn’t expecting it to be QUITE so close.

Ultra-close Minke Whale

Although the whale looks (and sounds) very large because of the low viewing angle afforded by the kayak, I suspect this is a juvenile animal. It is always the youngsters of all the large sea creatures that are the most inquisitive, and ‘playful’. Young seals often throw their heads around in the manner of a puppy when a kayak shows up and it’s always the juvenile dolphins that bow-ride with the most vigour and splash and jump the highest.

In Antarctica last year Becky and I were closely scrutinised by a juvenile Humpback (which was almost as big as his Mum!) which repeatedly swam underneath our kayak, often upside down, and surfaced a few yards away in exactly the same manner as this Minke. His mother stuck faithfully to his side and tried to be discourage him from getting too close, but he completely ignored her.

Yesterday’s whale has certainly changed my opinion that Minkes are aloof. It was about as friendly as a whale can ever be. I wonder if our paths will cross again?

Minke Whale