Events such as this not only inspire and enthuse, they also help to establish the status of the big marine creatures which is the first step in conservation and protection projects.
So it’s a really great idea, and I am very happy to contribute what I can. Here’s my previous three year’s stats:
2019: 66 Porpoise, 36 Common Dolphins, 1 Minke Whale (you might call it 2 if I include the one that came up for breath just behind my kayak, but I never saw!), 1 Humpback Whale.
Total: 96
2020: 4 Porpoise, 15 Common Dolphin,1 Minke Whale.
Total 20
2021: 14 Porpoise, 3 Common Dolphin.
Total 17
Observing these sort of creatures from a kayak is entirely dependent on benign weather. For venturing several miles offshore, which is where you have really got to be, the wind should be less than 5mph. So it’s entirely possible that you won’t get out there at all. That’s why I havn’t see much for the last two years.
This year I was hell-bent on beating my previous personal best tally of cetaceans (must be the trainspotter in me) and the forecast promised a few windless days so I was primed and ready to go. Sandwiches perfected and put in the fridge the night before.
Day 1 was a bit of a disappointment. I paddled out from Fowey but offshore conditions were a bit too choppy. A dozen circling Gannets guided me in to a pod of porpoises and that was my lot. All made worse by forgetting to get the sandwiches out of the fridge.
Day 2 was very much better. Flat calm in Mount’s Bay off Penzance. A lot of porpoises scattered about and a memorable prolonged sit in amongst a pod of feeding and very curious Common Dolphins.
video:
They were in quite a playful mood and it was the first time I had witnessed a dolphin doing a spot of backstroke.
video:
The sandwiches, which were two days old and starting to fizz, were the low point.
Day 3 was back to disappointing. I had promised my chum Mark a flat calm day with a huge offshore paddle and loads of fins. Unfortunately although there was no wind the sea surface was rippled by an inexplicable nasty little chop which made cetacean-viewing very tricky. Just four passing Dolphins.
Day 4 was Mount’s Bay again and inspiring, at least in the morning until the wind picked up. If only Mark had come today instead! I was on the water very early so it was almost totally silent with not an engine to be heard. It was made even more atmospheric by a moderate swell which meant that I was frequently looking UP at the dolphins.
I spied a work-up of Gannets over a mile ahead. Paddling at 4mph it took me 25 minutes to arrive on the scene (so it was actually 1.7 miles). I cursed because a very noisy slow-moving trawler ploughed right through the middle of the activity just as I was arriving and the Gannets scattered. Blooming typical, as there was hardly another boat in sight.
However luck hadn’t failed me completely, and the Gannets fired up again nearby, cackling with excitement as they pivoted and plunged into the water with a mighty thoomph.
As expected, there were dolphins beneath the Gannets, about twenty of them. I quietly paddled over to watch and spent the next two hours observing the jumps and listening to the puffs and the splashes of several feeding groups.
They would send little silver fish scattering everywhere as they surged about, and then disappear for a while as they rounded up the next unfortunate baitball.
When I eventually decided to move on the dolphins decided to come too.
Dreamworld for the Lone Kayaker:
One of the benefits of offshore kayaking looking for cetaceans is that if it is a complete failure, which is not unusual, there is a lot of incidental wildlife to be enjoyed.
A sunny day in late July, especially if it is early in the morning, brings it all out.
It’s always great to see the seals:
There was a raft of Manx Shearwaters resting and preening and cooing at each other.
As I was watching the dolphins a tiny Storm Petrel flitted past. The size and appearance of a House Martin but a bird of the open ocean and rarely seen from the shore.
Better still was a large shearwater flying a bit higher off the surface than the passing Manx, and with a lazy flight like a large slomo bat. A Cory’s Shearwater! I am familiar with this species from the Mediterranean coast of Spain but this is a UK kayaking first for me. No pic unfortunately. A real mega-sighting from a kayak.
On Day 4 I saw the fin of an Ocean Sunfish twisting across the surface towards me. Here it is through the green planktonic blurr as it swum past. Quite a big one…about a metre across.
video:
A Clouded Yellow butterfly flittered past when I was a mile or two offshore. The first one I have seen this year. They are continental migrants but this was probably the locally produced offspring of the wave of immigrants from earlier in the year. Unable to resist a bit of wandering.
These butterflies are rare out to sea. Red Admirals are quite common, painted Ladies less so. Both migrants from the continent.
Also in the insect department a Hummingbird Hawkmoth zipped past heading for land…almost certainly having crossed over the English Channel from France. Excellent.
Below the surface there are a lot of Compass Jellyfish around at the mo. They are the most attractive jelly with intricate markings. This one is very photogenic with a full set of tentacles (pity about the eelgrass).
So I managed to observe 110 cetaceans during the Seawatch Dolphin and Whale week, beating my previous best from 2019. I maybe wasn’t quite as thrilling as seeing a Humpback and Minke from that year, but it might just have been my best ever dolphin encounter if you include the perfect super-flat paddling conditions. Video:
And all the other amazing creatures of course.
The Lone Kayaker 