Okay, confession time. I’m often late submitting my stories to 2515. Not late-late but pushing-my-luck late. But, boy, am I thankful that I dragged my heels this month because I’m so excited to share one of favourite wildlife encounters with you all, and in lockdown, no less!
Yesterday started out normally enough, walking along the pathway at McCauley’s Beach and on to Sandon Point. It’s always a lovely walk. I mean, that coastline, especially in the sun is beyond perfect. As I turned to head back, I noticed in the distance what looked to be a long, a very long, black log lying just beneath the water’s surface. I slowed my already not particularly fast pace right down and stood for a while, just kind of working through what it might be.
And then suddenly the ‘log’ surfaced and sprayed a very impressive and very distinct V-shaped bushy blow. My first whale of the season! And one that looked suspiciously like an animal that had been on my bucket list since forever: a Southern Right Whale. Before I could really decide on my next course of action, a second, smaller shape surfaced right next to the first. This whale had a calf with her!
Cue frantic running and half-sliding, half-stumbling down the hill to try to get to my car so I could grab my husband and my camera – both essentials but both also at home at the time. These whales weren’t just on my bucket list because they’re lovely, although they totally are. But these are seriously special animals. They were originally named ‘Right Whales’ as during the 1800s they were the ‘right’ whale to catch, with the perfect amount of meat and oil, easy to capture due to their slow swimming behaviour and their tendency to stay in the same bay for hours or days and the fact that once dead, they will float. What may have been right for the whalers turned out to be a disaster for these beautiful creatures.
Currently the Australian population is estimated to be about 3500 individuals while the number of breeding females on the east coast is thought to be as low as 68. Coupled with the interval between calves being around three to five years, these huge mammals (adults can grow up to 18 metres in length, with calves between five and six metres!) face an uphill battle to increase their numbers.
And so we stood there on the beach for a few hours, just watching the whales as they slowly made their way up and down the bay, resting and readying themselves for the trip back south.
I cried a few times, especially watching the interaction between calf and cow; the young baby turning on her side and her back and gliding in front of, and over, her mother’s face. The name may have an awful history but, for me, during a lockdown that has left me at times feeling incredibly flat, they were the right whales, in the right place and at the right time.
