THE LAST LONELY TRIBE

HUMPBACK WHALES have had a profound and universal (if little understood) impact on our psyche, infiltrating ancient myths and modern fantasies and inspiring great change in the way humankind regards nature and their place in it. Their enormous size and large mammalian brains; their complex relationships and mysterious courtship and mating rituals; their astounding migratory paths, flamboyant displays and graceful movement; their intricate songs and their newborn calves. These are the things we came to see with our own eyes, to admire with our own hearts and to interpret with our own minds. 

NAI'A's two week-long expeditions were a risk. Our plan to cruise throughout Tonga's picturesque and almost entirely undeveloped Ha'apai island group looking for whales incorporated more "guesstimating" and "playing it by ear" than we cared to admit. We were far from certain that we would see any whales, let alone where or how to get close enough to follow, observe, photograph and , perhaps, swim with them. But our passengers, all of them friends who had sailed and dived from NAI'A before, were a patient, flexible and keen-eyed mob. And we found many many more whale pods than we could ever have followed.  

The "team" included scientists and volunteer researchers for the South Pacific Humpback Whale Project centred at New Zealand's Auckland University, where cutting-edge studies into identifying individual animals by DNA testing and voice-sampling are conducted. Dr Peter Jenkins brought a clear, insightful, scientific mind (and a lifetime of experience studying birdsong) as well as his hydrophones to record whalesong and vocalisations. His ear proved a little too sensitive sitting head-down in choppy seas in a skiff. But his perseverance was an inspiration and his perspective invaluable. Paul Kayes, a marine studies teacher, assisted Jenkins with unfailing verve and humour and a mastery of certain single-syllable expletives so uniquely Kiwi. Kayes and Mick McIntyre, the Australian co-founder and director of the educational and conservation group Whales Alive and International Whaling Commission delegate, stalked the glimmering surface for fluke shots with their ever-ready cameras. McIntyre advised us with eternal diplomacy on the politics of whale watching and the wavering line between eco-tourism and exploitation. Whales should be glad to have him on their side. Mel Rice, the executive programme director of Whales Alive tossed in his wide-ranging knowledge and decades of experience running whale watching trips among Hawaii's humpbacks. His calm organised way of documenting encounters and behaviours was matched only by his acute ear for whale music. Mel's tranquil and genuine joy was infectious. Avi Klapfer, photographer and operator of the UNDERSEA HUNTER and SEA HUNTER in Cocos Island, joined us fresh from his experience running humpback whale watching expeditions in the Silver Banks. But these people were merely the dressing on a delicious salad of intelligence and enthusiasm that was our passengers who traveled from the US, Europe and New Zealand to make these research trips viable and, therefore, possible.  

We spotted several different individuals and pods of humpbacks on every day except one which was so windy and stormy we were lucky to see from the bridge to the bow! Utilising the top sundeck and the four-person crows-nest 50 feet above the water, we soon became adept at spotting "blows" several miles away. NAI'A proved a stable and maneuverable platform from which to follow and watch pods from a comfortable (for the whales) distance. Undoubtedly the most exhilarating and interesting behaviours are breaches, tail and pectoral fin slaps and spyhops where the whales bob their enormous heads out of the water to get a good look around. But we also watched mother calf pairs, nursing, playing, resting and "talking" with a gentleness and tenderness we fellow mammals understand so well. One day we saw so many mother calf pairs near each other we wondered if we had stumbled onto a nursery ground .At anchor during one of many dramatic sunsets, the radio crackled through with a message from the researchers out recording whalesong in the skiff, "Look out for three whales heading straight for NAI'A! They came right to us and we had to move out of their way." It turned out to be four (probably three males and a female) animals, violently charging and raming each other in a highly competitive display. We followed closely alongside in a skiff for several miles but the group appeared entirely oblivious to our presence. So much for the "gentle giants" cliche. On another evening, while recording "song" at sunset, we drifted onto a pair of humpbacks quietly "logging" on the surface - perhaps sleeping?  

We took great pains to be sensitive intruders and most whale pods appeared unfazed by us, allowing NAI'A to travel or drift alongside them. Some clearly and easily avoided us - changing direction to escape our attention. But others were downright curious or perhaps just friendly. We were able to snorkel with humpbacks on many occasions. Chasing them and attempting to intercept their path proved an intimidating and entirely pointless exercise. But waiting patiently, the engine constantly humming rather than revving in pursuit, seemed to gain the trust of the whales who not only approached NAI'A and the skiffs to follow us, but surfaced so close that as I leaned over to watch one leviathan swim just an arm's length alongside, I copped a face full of sticky stinky whale breath with every blow! Each time we swam with these creatures - lone whales, pairs, males, females and mothers with calves - the routine was the same and it was the whales calling the shots. If they surfaced next to NAI'A - without us pursuing them -we would try our luck in the water. Usually they would hover around long enough to check us out before a single flick of a fluke or push of a pectoral fin would propel them clear into the endless blue. Some encounters lasted a few glorious moments, others stretched for more than 15 breathtaking minutes! The journey's absolute highlight was an extraordinary encounter with a lone female whale who literally would not leave us alone. Each time we attempted departure, she would swim around NAI'A making the captain too nervous to move or maneuver. This precocious behaviour is known as "mugging" . During the hours she hung out with us, everyone got to swim with her several times. Eventually we had to leave her behind to move to a safe anchorage! Her (we were able to get close enough to sex her) ability to glide throughout the flailing bodies, remaining only inches out of reach, put to rest any assumptions that a 35 ton animal must be a hefty, blundering, clumsy beast. She was, quite simply, beautiful. And sharing the water with her was an experience that bonded our group emotionally and embedded memories in our heads that we will still be sharing in our finals days. 

My fondest memory is of a mother and calf that we watched and recorded for an entire day only to have them follow us to our afternoon dive site and evening anchorage. Divers rode the skiffs to and from the dive site, researchers conducted "sound dips" outside the bay and others read novels under fading sunlight. Meanwhile, the mother and calf rested directly beside NAI'A and each of us went about our business, living our lives freely and without fear among one another. This is the way it should be - to find whales without having to search and chase as if each one may be the last we will ever see. 

But this is the last lonely tribe of humpback whales. The last one to be hunted and the fewest survivors. Among the hoots and yells and cries of delight that each breaching or baby whale inspires are as many sighs of relief. And for every lone whale I see traversing and empty horizon, I say a little prayer that it will meet its mate. 

Cat Holloway 
 

View From the Bridge

Both expeditions carried members of the South Pacific Humpback Whale Project, based at the University of Auckland. We explored the Ha'apai Group this year and were excited to find far more whales than had previously been counted. Although the population of humpbacks is much smaller than the group which frequents Hawaii or the Silver Banks (anywhere from one half to one fifth as many whales), the number of adults - especially mothers with calves - is encouraging. Perhaps this last lonely tribe of humpbacks will recover from the decimation they suffered at the hands of greedy and illegal whalers. Recent investigations revealed that 48,477 South Pacific humpback whales were killed by the Soviet fleet between World War II and 1972, of which only 2,700 were reported. Many were killed after humpbacks were granted full protection by the International Whaling Commission in 1962. And one of the scientists working with the South Pacific Humpback Whale Project has discovered by DNA analysis that humpback whale meat is still being sold in Japan. Clearly humpback whales are not as safe as we would like to believe. 

On our way home to Fiji after the whale expeditions, Cat and I were sitting at the bow watching the sunset when we almost sailed over a huge humpback, lying still at the surface, perhaps lost, certainly alone in a vast ocean. But the next morning, well inside Fiji waters, we spotted two more unexpected humpbacks. Humpbacks in Fiji again! Thirty years ago, before specific predation on this population by illegal whalers, Fiji hosted as many humpbacks as did Tonga during the mating and calving season. Maybe they know it is finally safe to come back. 

Rob Barrel