This photo is pretty much self-explanatory.
I swam straight through it, because…well…how often do you get poo-ed upon by a whale? Actually, in my case, at least half-a-dozen times I can recall.
This is the first time, however, that I managed to get a photo of cloudy-liquid whale poo, as opposed to soft-serve-ice-cream-like whale poo.
Each year, many of the people who join us in Tonga bring along school supplies, which we arrange to be distributed to schools on the outer islands.
It’s not much, but every little bit helps, especially in remote locations.
Most of us who live in cities take things like pencils and erasers for granted, but out here, they’re not necessarily so easy to come by (especially cute bunny pencils).
Also, thanks to Serene, Rachel and May from Singapore, this year we have a substantial supply of reading glasses to distribute, which will hopefully come in handy for people who are a bit older and need some help reading fine print.
I advise everyone who travels to Tonga with me to practice swimming and generally get into good cardiovascular fitness before arriving.
Rachel didn’t heed my advice and was too slow in the water on her first day, so I had to administer remedial fitness training:
(She’s actually training for a half-marathon. I just enjoyed being drill sergeant.)
This is the label from a package of tissues in the Chinese restaurant in Vava’u:
No one (not even the Chinese speakers among us) can make heads or tails of the intended reference.
I must admit a certain level of apprehension when I first saw this.
I was worried that the unconventional choice of vocabulary was an elliptical reference to a potential contrast between the impression the food imparts on the way in and on the way out.
Fortunately, my anxiety proved unfounded.
Note: First noticed by Gina and Frederick, who seem to have a singular talent for spotting Engrish.
For the 2010 humpback whale season in Tonga, I’ve traded in my heavy all-black overcoat for a lighter orange jacket with reflective tape, primarily because I had to cut weight to meet airline baggage restrictions.
As you can see, I’m making the best of it. First, there’s no way anyone can miss me with this coat on…which is generally a good thing out on the water.
As an added bonus, my black wetsuit + orange jacket just happen to match the black-and-orange hard case that I carry with me every day, as well as my all-black underwater camera housing.
Who says fashion sense has to suffer if you’re out whale watching?
Of course, the bright white croc knock-offs I procured locally sort of spoil my colour-coordination, but hey…there’s only so much I can do out here.
Several people have already complimented me on my appearance, so perhaps my innovative Black-and-Orange-Dorky-Whale-Watcher look will catch on.
The orange jacket is actually standard wear for construction workers and other laborers in Japan, so at the very least, I’m sure my Japanese friends will get a kick out of it.
There were two people from China who joined me for my recent humpback whale acoustics research trip in Tonga.
One of the two, Song Ye, is a former member of the Chinese national swim team, and goes by the nickname Mermaid.
In addition to being a talented swimmer, she is also a natural when it comes to cetacean acoustics research, as is clear in this video:
I was tempted to tell her that the hydrophone wasn’t effective for two-way communication, but in the end, I didn’t have the heart to spoil her fun.
Singing whales weren’t the only ones we encountered during the Jocara trip.
To be upfront, it’s been a relatively slow start to the season. There are certainly whales here. I’ve seen them every day I’ve been out on the water. But qualitatively, there don’t seem to be as many interactive whales (i.e., ones you can spend quality time with) as normal for this time of year.
Over the past week and a half, I know there were two mother and calf pairs in the area. We saw one in the water, but were unable to get in with the other. There certainly might be more, but I haven’t heard any credible reports.
Usually by now, there should be more, though there have been other years with relatively few babies early on, such as in 2007, but quite a few later in the season.
When you get right down to it, there’s really no way of knowing how things will play out until the end of the season.
Besides the mothers and babies, there seem to be a lot of young whales here, say between one to five years of age or so, i.e., sexually immature whales. The first two singers we recorded are good examples, and we’ve sighted many others either playing alone, or travelling in pairs.
Other boats have reported large heat runs, and I know of encounters with at least three separate mating pairs of whales.
As I alluded to above, it’s far too early in the season to generalise about how things are going, but if I can indulge in a bit of speculation…
Over the past three years, I’ve ID-ed over 60 calfs. Since there’s no way I saw all the babies, I think it’s reasonable to assume there were well over 100 calfs in this group of whales over the past three years.
This number would suggest that a significant proportion of the breeding females in this humpback whale group have had babies in the recent past. Females that have just had babies are relatively less likely to have them again right away (though I’ve ID-ed two moms here that had babies two years in a row in 2008 and 2009).
Not all the young would have survived, but the number of babies could help explain the seemingly high number of young whales we’ve seen so far. Other explanations, of course, could be that the young whales arrived earlier than the others, the older ones are busy elsewhere, or I’m just imagining things.
I’ve also sensed in the past that high-baby years seem to run somewhat countercyclical with seasons with a relatively high number of heat runs and mating pairs. This seems to makes sense, since females with babies are relativley less likely to be engaging in courtship/ mating (though it does happen), while females without babies are relatively more likely to do so.
So…one of the things that will be of interest to me as the season progresses is to see how the baby count goes versus the relative frequency of heat runs and mating pair encounters.
Ongo
On 6 August, the last day that we were out on the water, I made my first calf ID for the season. It was a relatively new calf, perhaps in the two- to three-week old range, and absolutely adorable.
The visibility was poor, and the mother was skittish, so I wasn’t able to take any prize-winning photos, but I was able to get a good enough look to ID the baby.
Both mommy and baby are nearly all black, with the baby having small white patches just behind both eyes. The mother has an easily recognisable pattern on the ventral surface of her fluke…mostly black, with white areas toward the the upper corners on both sides. In short…it’s easy to ID this pair again.
I decided to name the baby Ongo, in honour of my close friend and mentor here who passed away just days after I left Tonga last year. For the community as a whole…it’s difficult to overestimate the importance Ongo had on establishing the whale watch industry here. For me personally…Ongo taught me just about everything I know about humpback whale behaviour. To top it off, he was a terrific person.
Mating Pairs
On 4 August, we came across three whales travelling together. After watching a while, I guessed that they were a mating pair with a third wheel who couldn’t or wouldn’t take the hint to get lost.
Perhaps it was the tail end of a heat run, or a lone male interloper that hoped to interrupt a lovey-dovey pair that had already decided on one another.
Over the course of an hour or two, we watched the whales’ ups and downs until the third was finally chased away, doing a big, violent tail splash as it left, an obvious sign of frustration.
The pair then settled down to spend quality time with one another. It was late in the day by then, so we left them to get down to business.
The next day, we swam with another mating pair in roughly the same area as we had left the first pair the previous day. Based on the whales’ behaviour and my memory of the fluke patterns, I initially thought it might be the same pair. I didn’t have in-water photos from the previous day for comparison, but Gina and Frederick had video, so they were able to compare the whales later in the evening.
As it turned out, they were not the same whales. In a way, it was a letdown, as it would’ve been nice to have seen the same whales again (it’s happened to me before), but in another way, it’s better, because that means more mating pairs, which is good for the humpback population!
One of the most intriguing aspects of this second pair was the behaviour of the female. The two whales were clearly in resting mode. The female’s preferred resting position was to float with her fluke at the surface, flopped over so the ventral surface was flat (or nearly flat) on the water.
I’ve seen other humpbacks stick their flukes/ caudal regions out of the water for a while, but this female was single-minded. After every dive, the pair would surface and the female would take up the exact same position…just hanging out with her tail in the air. The male rested just below her.
Difficult to know why she kept doing this, but I can only speculate that it must have felt good.
At the end of our encounter, the male swam up and allowed several of us to swim alongside for quite some distance as the pair cruised at the surface.
When the whales finally dived, I took a few photos, only noticing what should have been obvious after I reviewed the images:
People
It was an unusual week for me. After so many seasons here, I have somewhat of a fixed pattern of doing things. This past week+ broke the pattern (different boat, different procedures, different focus out on the water, new gadgets, new software to wrangle), which made things difficult in a way, but also highly rewarding.
Besides the whale-related stuff I described above, I spent time with terrific people, who may not have participated in my usual gung-ho whale photography trips.
Without exception, they were terrific(!), and I am delighted to be able to call them friends (not sure if the feeling is mutual of course).
One of the best discoveries from my first few days in Vava’u was the new Chinese restaurant, Golden Lily. One of the most difficult things for me about extended travel is being away from Asian food. I’m perfectly adaptable and can get along just about anywhere, but I can’t help but crave for Asian food every once in a while. This place solves the problem!
The food is…let’s just say awesome. Richard and Song Ye, my two guests from China, and two of their friends who were also in Vava’u, approved of the food, so I suspect I’ll find myself here a lot:
More people start arriving today, and we hit the water again tomorrow. Can’t wait to see what the whales choose to share next!
Cast of characters for my inaugural Humpback Acoustics Adventure:
Related Posts
Humpback Whales in Tonga 2010 | Part 1
Humpback Whales in Tonga 2010 | Part 3
Humpback Whales in Tonga 2010 | Part 4
Humpback Whales in Tonga 2010 | Part 5
Humpback Whales in Tonga 2010 | Part 6
I wonder if there’s any truth to the saying that there’s a pot of gold at the end of rainbow.
If so, the guy on this yacht is in for a surprise!
Richard Smith is an eager young marine biologist and underwater photographer who lives in Brisbane, Down Under. He is writing his PhD thesis about pygmy seahorses, and from what I gather, he may actually even finish it.
I’ve only met him once, by chance in the Lembeh Strait last year, and I only had the opportunity to speak with him for half an hour or so.
He seemed pleasant enough, and he’s even planning a trip to dive in Japan with my friends in Izu.
It struck me as somewhat odd, however, that the dates he picked for his visit to Japan coincide with dates that I specifically told him I can’t possibly join him.
I mean…we share common interests, and we had a terrific talk in Lembeh, so why…I wondered…could he possibly be avoiding me?
After thinking long and hard about this conundrum, the proverbial light bulb went off in my head.
This short video clip of Richard explaining the mating rituals of pygmy seahorses to me when we met in Lembeh probably has something to do with it:
(In case it’s not obvious, the point of this post is that if you meet (or already know) Richard, you absolutely must ask him to do the pygmy seahorse mating dance. Even better if you video it and post to the www.)
The countdown to Tonga has begun, and I’m scrambling around with more than the usual level of chaos, since I just got back from Bangkok and have had less time than normal to sort through my piles of stuff to get (somewhat) organised.
Vava’u has become like a second home to me over the years, and I particularly look forward to seeing friends and their families…including pets.
This is C.N’a:
C.N’a stands for “Crow’s Nest”. Many words in Tongan have the ‘a syllable appended to the end. I don’t understand enough Tongan to know if there’s a meaning to the ‘a or if it’s for emphasis, but in any case, it’s pronounced “Sienna”.
There’s a touching story behind C.N’a. The short version is that she was one of the many stray dogs in the area, but different enough from the other dogs that it’s possible she was left behind by one of the boats.
In fact, she apparently visited the area in front of the Crow’s Nest, which is a bakery/ restaurant adjacent to the main harbour, each morning. The owners of the Crow’s Nest, Stephen and Tess, gradually befriended her, and at this point, she’s a permanent fixture, arguably the boss.
She apparently still hates being left behind though, and has been spotted chasing Stephen and Tess’s car down the main road when they inadvertently forgot her. That must be quite a sight!
C.N’a is very friendly, especially if you happen to have one of Stephen’s fresh-baked banana muffins with you. Stephen makes fresh bread and pastries every day, no doubt to keep C.N’a happy:
C.N’a is camera-shy, so it took quite a bit of coaxing to get her to pose. I suspect she can hear the high-pitch tone of the autofocus mechanism. I had to switch to manual focus to keep her from wandering away.
If you’re ever in Vava’u, stop by the Crow’s Nest to say hello to C.N’a and Tess (and yes…I guess Stephen too).
…back to packing
I just received this snapshot of my photo of a sperm whale eating giant squid from a friend who visited the National Museum of Nature and Science in Tokyo earlier today. The photo is from a trip to Ogasawara, Japan in October 2009.
The special exhibit about marine mammals will continue until 26 September. I haven’t been able to see the exhibit yet, but I’ve received a lot of positive feedback.
If you’re in Tokyo and have time, it might be worth dropping by.
Incidentally, the same photo is also on display at the Natural History Museum in London, though friends tell me the sperm whale section is dark and difficult to find.
Thanks Michiyo-san!
Update 26 July: I received a couple more photos of the exhibit from another friend:
Thanks Wakae-san!
Three years ago, I won a peach (桃) tree cutting playing rock-paper-scissors at a local festival, while taking my dog Pasta for a walk.
We planted the tree, and really didn’t do much else, but I always thought of that tree as “Pasta’s peach tree”, since she was so happy to be taking a walk that pleasant spring day, and was ecstatic that we won something (despite the fact that it turned out not to be a doggy snack).
Earlier this year, we finally saw fruits developing on the tree…three peaches to be precise:
And today, we tasted the ripe peaches. Surprisingly, considering how little effort we put into cultivating the plant, the peaches were absolutely delicious…better, in fact, that store-bought fruits.
It’s been almost exactly two years since Pasta died, so this was a really nice way to remember her, and to take a little time out to reminisce about the many (mis)adventures we shared.
Incidentally, there’s a saying in Japanese that goes 桃栗３年、柿８年 which translates as “peaches and chestnuts three years, persimmons eight years”, meaning that it takes time for things to ripen/ come to fruition…the implication being that it pays to be patient.
Actually, most people probably don’t realise it, but that’s only the first line of a longer bit of folk wisdom. The full saying is:
桃栗３年、柿８年、
梅はすいすい１３年、
ユズは大バカ１８年、
りんごニコニコ２５年、
女房の不作は６０年、
亭主の不作はこれまた一生、
あーこりゃこりゃ
I won’t attempt to translate this, but if you happen to read Japanese, it’s rather entertaining…and totally true.
