ADVENTURES AT SEA

An Emotional Encounter With Whales in the Water

There was a physical encounter too — not so fun — but was it worth it?

I could hardly wait to don my prison-orange wet suit and board the Zodiac for the highly anticipated whale watching tour. I wanted to see with my own eyes one of the largest animals on earth breaching the waters off the coast of Victoria, British Columbia.

Seeing whales in their natural environment was on my bucket list and here I was — with my husband — getting ready to experience it. I could barely keep from crying with joy knowing I was about to fulfill my dream.

The whale watching adventure of a lifetime

We were on the hunt for an orca sighting — also known as killer whales. This sea giant is more than twice the size of an elephant, measuring 30 feet and weighing over ten tons.

Armed with binoculars, my husband Michael and I climbed into the boat but not before hastily signing a form making us swear we wouldn’t sue if a killer whale accidentally mistook us for a tasty octopus. Hahahaha….so funny!

There were other clauses too but in our excitement we didn’t read them.

For almost an hour our captain guided the Zodiac through increasingly choppy waters. As we got farther from the shoreline the waves got bigger. The boat flopped up and down smacking the ocean’s surface with loud aggressive whaps.

When the waves hit we levitated from our seats in suspended animation. Each time we were released my butt pounded the hard surface of our wooden seats with such force my spine began to tingle.

Finally, the wait was over.

In the foggy distance we spotted a pod of orcas breaching and spraying water from their blowholes. It was an amazing, indescribable sight. My heart raced.

It was what I had waited for — longed for, dreamed of. The emotional impact of seeing these animals in the flesh, in their own environment was more than I could have ever imagined.

We watched through our binoculars and wondered if we might get a closer look.

Our captain idled the boat so we could better watch the action. He assured us we wouldn’t get a sighting closer than the one we had now. The whales won’t approach us he said. But hopefully we’ll get some memorable photos to take home.

I hoped, and prayed to some entity of nature the whales would draw nearer — despite what the captain said. I wanted with every fiber of my body to hear them sing and to feel their camaraderie.

It’s crazy, I know, but I wanted them to understand how much I admired them. And how honored I felt to see them “in person.”

But then a curious thing happened. The whales kept coming closer and closer, as if hurrying toward a throng of guests on the verge of leaving since their hosts had not yet served dinner.

Making a bee-line toward us, the images in my Nikon got larger and larger.

“Dude, these guys are coming right to us!” I yelled to Michael.

“Fucking insane,” he hollered with laughter over the sound of crashing waves and the excited babble of our fellow passengers.

Our captain no longer wore his relaxed, slightly bored expression. He cranked up the engine and looked around with hesitation. Someone shouted a question but he ignored it. He looked frightened.

Then came the moment the orcas were literally on us.

They went under the boat, others went around, and I swear to Goddess at least one flew right over the Zodiac as if it were no big deal. Hello there, just passing through.

I was so swept away by those moments I could barely hold my camera. In fact, I let it drop on my chest, secured by the strap that hung around my neck.

I felt as if I’d become one with the whales and that if I dived into the water they would welcome me into their pod.

For minutes — who knows how many — we were engulfed in killer whales. The captain had a death grip on the steer, and because he’d pulled down his protective head gear I could no longer see his face.

And then it was over. We watched the whales continue on their way to wherever it was they were heading. I felt a deep sense of loss, and longed for their return.

Most of the passengers had been scared shitless by the onslaught of whales, but we knew we had just experienced one of the most significant encounters in our lifetime.

Then came the life-changing injury

After the whales disappeared into the horizon our captain continued toward the bay. We’d had enough excitement he decided, even though we’d not yet reached the two-hour limit we paid for.

As he forced the Zodiac into the highest speed possible we were once again walloped by the high waves knocking us up and down. The faster he drove the waters, the harder it was to stay balanced. I tried to stay seated on the wooden bench that now felt like a block of concrete to my throbbing back.

Then there was one hard hit.

We all flew skyward about a foot into the air. Someone watching from afar would have seen eight figures launched, suspended and then dropped as if coordinated by some evil puppet master.

I, along with another man, shrieked in pain. I hit the seat squarely, but this time my tailbone popped it so hard I could feel the break travel from the bottom of my spine up to my thoracic region.

I didn’t know at the time, but I’d fractured four vertebra and my sacrum.

Back home to Memphis

After the damage was assessed by an orthopedic surgeon, we tried unsuccessfully to sue the whale watching company. Turned out the tour company had been warned the sea was unusually rough that day. They were told it was not a good day for tours.

Also, we learned the captain was new and inexperienced on how to handle close-up encounters with killer whales.

Also, he’d gone too far out into the water. When the whales began to approach— even very slowly — he should have immediately called his base and then headed back.

Finally we found out that the type of encounter we had had never before happened on any of their whale watching tours.

Never before had their Zodiacs been so close to whales — not even as close as thirty to forty feet.

If any of us passengers had told the story of orcas whisking under, over and around our boat no one would have believed us.

However, in this case there were nine people who experienced it— as well as the captain. And there were photos as well.

But getting back to the company taking any responsibility for my injuries, and any chance of a lawsuit. That was not going to happen.

We signed that piece of paper.

Thus began years of chronic back pain. I’ve had every imaginable treatment: kyphoplasty, PT, chiropractic, Bowen Therapy, steroids, turbo traction, nerve blocks and more. You name it, I’ve done it.

A few friends chided my over-the-top approach to life and its experiences. “You’re lucky you didn’t get killed,” said one. “You’re a cat with nine lives, and you just burned through your eighth!”

They reminded me I was not “a spring chicken,” and said I should have done a better job exploring the dangers of such encounters.

One person — a “frenemy” I should say — asked: “Don’t you wish you’d never taken that silly boat ride? Just to see some animals you can watch on Nat Geo any day of the week? Sure, you survived and the boat didn’t turn over, but still you’ll suffer the rest of your life!”

I’d be lying if I said I never had those thoughts myself. I have. Can I honestly say I would not take back the experience of seeing the whales I waited all my life to see? Was that injury worth it?

I would still do it all over again.

Conclusion

There’s no real conclusion to this story because it’ll continue as long as I continue.

All I can gather from this mind-blowing, emotional encounter with whales in a place of spectacular beauty, and then having that terrible injury is this:

Shit happens.

Yup, that’s it.

The injury was traumatic and has affected almost every aspect of my life. But, on the other hand, it’s led to other numerous encounters I would never have had otherwise.

There are things I’ve challenged myself to do despite the injury that I probably wouldn’t have bothered with if it hadn’t happened to me.

So, was this a blessing in disguise designed to gift me with some existential intelligence?

I don’t know. I’ll get back with you on that one.

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