Orca Safari-First in-water encounter November 13th 2017

I awoke to the vibration of the Sula preparing to leave the dock and got dressed in my base layer of woollies but opted for the professional-grade exposure suit today. A nice, insulated, waterproof and windproof flotation overall in a shade of Arctic fire-engine red.

I climbed the exterior ladder to enjoy the wind in my face up-top as we searched for whales to befriend.

At around 10 am we found the spot. The Sula pulled into the bay heralded by screaming gulls.

Photo credit: Nikon Donna N.

We saw so many whales we didn't even know where to look. Killer whales, Humpback whales, Fin whales, Herring flying at the surface and all of us on board gawking and clicking cameras and one of us bursting into tears. That, would be me. It was so beautiful.

Some of the Orca were feeding, some were travelling, some were playing and some were curiously popping their heads up to check us out. There was no time to lose, we had to take this gift of an opportunity on a practically windless day with calm seas and no amateur operators competing to swim using methods that our Orca expert would disapprove of.

Photo credit: Donna N.

Into the gear and into the aluminium boat we went knowing pretty much nothing about what was about to happen. Other than one guest and our Orca expert no one had dry-suit experience. No one had been aboard the Hårek (the aluminium boat) yet either. This would be the coldest water ever to touch my face. These would be the toothiest, apexiest predators that I had ever approached and yet, I felt somehow ready.

Photo credit: Donna N.

It was literally sink or swim. I sat at the end of the ladder and was the first in my group into the water. I felt no fear.

Then Gijs, the driver yelled "GO!"

What follows is a William S. Burroughs-style stream of consciousness vomit of feelings and words and retro-linear embellishment of the event as I experienced it at the time and as I remember and record it now, nearly a month later:

I slipped in and felt the water on my face...meh, not anywhere as painfully cold as I had anticipated. Kick, kick, look down. Mama Orca with baby closely connected. It was literally the first thing I saw underwater. I shall never forget it. EVER.

Visibility was poor and good at once. The water itself was clear but there were many particles bigger than plankton, like sequins falling off an antique gown, the scales of freshly killed Herring churned everywhere. Cartoon-like half-eaten fish with their backbones exposed floated by our masks.

Lifting my face out of the water to get my bearings, I see a dorsal fin six feet high slashing the surface and arching back under the chop. Instinctively, like a spectator at a tennis match I changed my perspective to follow the motion and resumed watching through the prism of the sea. The diving male Orca could not be more graceful and delicate chasing a single fish and slurping it into his mouth as if it were a strand of spaghetti.

My main perception of the whales at that time was straight from my limbic system.

AAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!
BIG!!
AAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!
BIG!!
AAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!
BIG!!

I have never been scared by the whales at all but they are massive and fast. 6 to 8 tonnes, up to 65 km/hr. Imagine crossing a highway and dodging Mercedes-Benz Sprinter Vans whizzing by. That's about how massive and fast.

Anyone among you who have snorkeled or used an underwater mask for diving know that they magnify things to a certain degree. A Barracuda seems extra toothy, Parrotfish scales are beautifully defined, Pufferfish faces are just that much fatter and cuter. It takes some experience to get a handle on judging size and distance accurately.

Take that visual cognitive dissonance and apply the same disclaimer as the one on your car's passenger side-view mirror "Objects in mirror may be closer than they appear" and the result is:

AAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!
BIG!!
AAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!
BIG!!
AAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!
BIG!!

The only fair way to convey it without resorting to my cave-man level of description is this video link to the Facebook page of Pierre Robert de Latour of that actual in-water experience.

The Orca were everywhere. Males, females, young, juvenile and fully-grown all cooperatively feeding on the sparkly, spinning bait-ball. When the group moved past us, we had to re-position.

It was back to reality for me. No more cosmic at-one-with-nature-at-peace-with-the-universe dream state permitted. We needed to quickly board the aluminium boat and catch up to the Orca.

Getting back into the boat was very different than in tropical diving because we had to leave our fins on and climb the ladder backwards! Huh? At the top of ladder, we were expected to shuffle back and pivot onto a wooden bench then slide back along the bench to make room for the next person embarking. Oy. It did not help that the fins slip on the ladder rungs and that as Mr. Lawetz my H.S. physics teacher explained: two objects cannot occupy the same space. To wit, my ass and the handrails of the ladder.

The Frenchman hollering "Sleep on the woods" didn't help at all. He was trying to tell me to slide blindly backwards onto a wooden bench that I didn't even know existed. So I got yelled at again "Too slow!" sadface. My ego was bruised. I felt sorry for myself but at the same time, I really didn't care. I had just swum with Arctic Orca and if even if I never did it again, you could never take that image of the Mama Orca and her baby away from me.

Orca Safari-At sea November 12th 2017

The boat ride from Tromsø to Skjervøya took 12 hours. There is no shuffleboard deck so us passengers spent most of the daylight hours perched in the crow's nest watching for Orca.

It was clear and sunny with a footnote. The footnote is "sunny for Arctic November" which means that the sky is white with a pinkish hue rather than blue with wispy white clouds. The sun itself was not really visible above the horizon after noon.

Photo credit: Donna N.

We did have lovely sun earlier in the morning when we met the Orca pod. Their wet skin reflected the light beautifully. 

Photo credit: Tony G.

Photo credit: Tony G.

We cruised along at a leisurely pace, there was some wind but I was dressed properly thanks to my good friend Dan Foster at Deco Stop Outdoor Centre in Lancaster ON.

I wore merino wool socks, Helly Hansen long underwear with a Waterproof brand 3D Mesh Tec undersuit over those. I put a pair of Lululemon winter pants over that plus my insulated down skirt.

Then I put a Merino wool sweater over the Mesh Tec top and layered a fleece jacket, a down vest and finally a windproof shell with a fleecy neck warmer. On my head was a snug neoprene cap topped off with my Tibetan Tuque of Rainbow Pom Poms (made with love by yours truly). With two pairs of gloves and one pair of binoculars, four hours outside went by fairly quickly.

Unfortunately, we didn't see any wildlife but the Norwegian sea and landscapes were entertainment enough. Peak after snow-capped peak of huge mountains piercing the pink sky surrounded us through the fjords. At the base of those mountains, very dark soil sometimes with rocky beaches were dotted with little wooden structures. It felt like we were so removed from civilization but Norway's coasts are relatively densely populated. Just when you think you're finally in the middle of nowhere, somebody's hometown fishing village would come into view!

Lunch today was a seafood soup featuring mussels cooked in a white wine and tomato bouillon. We could smell it cooking and no one was disappointed when it was finally served to the eager guests. With some nice bread and butter, this warmed us up and we stayed outside until around 3 pm when it started getting too dark to spot whales.

We took turns getting kitted up in drysuits, gloves and hoods from the Sula's seemingly endless inventory. The neoprene suits are not the easiest to don and you basically have the flexibility of the Michelin Man in bondage gear but it will be warm in the freezing water. For some, the nylon trilaminate suits were a better fit but the neoprene made the squeeze over my *ahem* integrated buoyancy compensators (I'm a bit busty) so that's what I'll be wearing. I brought my own mask & snorkel & fins from home. For those readers that want to know more about the drysuit gear and how to use it, definitely take a trip to a local scuba diving shop to try some on or rent a suit and take a course! I actually hoped that we would have had the opportunity to try on the suits AND familiarise ourselves with their use before our first swim with the Orca but I guess it wasn't possible. The previous week, there had been precious few opportunities to swim with the whales so the crew didn't want to waste time and daylight with us newbies paddling around for nothing.

As each person went down into the hold for their fitting, the remaining group exchanged stories in the common room. I watched a video taken in Rurutu, Tahiti. The video begins with three adult Humpback whales calmly gliding through the water alongside a small group of snorkelers. As they pass, a large Oceanic Whitetip Shark comes into view but it posed no threat. The camera pans to a group of around 10 Pilot Whales calmly resting below the surface. SINGLE SHOT NO EDITING. I was drooling with awe. In turn, pretty much everyone had either a photo, a video or an incredible story to share. For that alone, this trip was such a terrific buy for someone like me.

We gathered at 6 pm for another presentation about Orca behaviour and communication by expert Pierre Robert de Latour. He described in detail his research about the application of Proxemics or the whales' use of social space (previously described by Anthropologist Edward T. Hall) to create the proper environment for positive underwater encounters. Just like humans, whales have a personal bubble. A mother and child or a husband and wife can be a foot apart comfortably but if a stranger stood that close to you, it's kind of ooky, right?

For whales, they have an intimate zone and a social zone. We are strangers so the idea is to graze the periphery of their 40 meter social bubble. What we are hoping for is that they choose to close the gap and interact with the human by including them in the social zone. There is no intrusion, the whales have the opportunity to engage or retreat at their leisure.

Dinner was medium-rare reindeer filet with herb butter and potatoes au gratin and cole slaw.

I feel like that last sentence could never do a decent job of describing exactly how exquisite that meal was. I polled the other guests and no one photographed it and there were zero leftovers. It will forever be the meal that I will never forget but that I can not prove ever occurred.

We pulled into the dock at around 8:30 pm beside a very...how shall I say ...fragrant? Yes, fragrant fish processing plant on the island of Skjervøya. Please enjoy the view from my upper bunk port hole.

There were mountains of these nets full of fresh fish, some with clouds of pungent steam still billowing. Much to my dismay, there were no legions of adorable Norwegian Forest cats showing up to steal the catch of the day.

A fellow guest and I spontaneously broke into the Fish Heads song. It was glorious.

While a few adventurous Ozzies ventured into the town's pub, I bunked down to write about the trip report and to dream of stinky Herring.