‘Got out of town on a boat for the southern islands....

“...sailing a reach for a following sea.
“She was making for the trades on the outside
“on a downhill run to Papeete.
“Off the wind on this heading lie the Marquesas.
“She’s got 80 feet on the waterline,
“nice for making way.
“From a noisy bar in Avalon I tried to call you ...”

Still waiting for that phone call, the kind that should come on a breezy blustery fall day. Late August, early September when Lord Hinchinbrook beckons you to the entry into and exit from Alaska’s Prince William Sound. Set a course due south through the entrance and once the islands disappear behind you, the next land you’ll see is Hawaii. You go as long before the Equinox as you can to avoid the Gulf of Alaska’s violent storms and make for those trades on the outside.

Usually, though, we go down the inside, ducking past Cape Spencer into the Inside Passage ever southward through Southeastern Alaska and British Columbia to Puget Sound.

On one such trip we reached Elfin Cove in the morning, having made an uneventful Gulf crossing, ate breakfast at the inn there and fueled up before heading generally eastward through Icy Strait past the mouth of Glacier Bay with its humpback whales feeding near us. Night fell and in darkness we motored along through a still, clear night with a bit of a moon reflecting on water so smooth it didn’t even distort the moonbeam, the calm sort of night when sound carries over long distances. Even motoring, a sailboat is fairly quiet and the calm of the night let this lone sailor slip into reverie, barely conscious of the detail of the world around me but watching nevertheless.

In that tranquility was when I learned humpback whales have a sense of humor. As we made the turn south into Chatham Strait. alone in the cockpit and lost in reverie an explosion burst so close to me, I must have jumped clear out of my seat; at the very least I jumped clear out of my reverie in time to watch the whale slip back below the surface of the water right next to the boat, not in a dive, but simply sinking out of sight, barely making a riffle. Then came the realization. In case you haven’t heard a whale breathe, that sound can be heard over long distances. Up close it is loud and sharp as the animal rises and exhales; that was the explosion I heard, and then the whale disappeared without a sound never to be seen again.

It struck me that whale did it on purpose. Humpback whales have that curve to their mouths that looks like a smirk and that night I realized why. I imagined the whale swimming just below the surface close to the boat and seeing that lonely sailor lost in his thoughts up there so relaxed. The whale thinks, “watch this,” rises and exhales right next to him, scaring him totally out of his wits, then sinks into the depths laughing a bubbly whale laugh while the startled sailor tries to figure out what happened, his reverie shattered for the rest of that watch.

“... thinking ‘bout how many times I have fallen;
spirits are using me, larger voices calling...”

--“Southern Cross” Crosby, Stills and Nash

THE PHOTO: A humpback waves off the coast of California near San Francisco Bay. Or is it a whale version of the bird?