Keefer Irwin

Keefer Irwin is an NRDC member and supporter who became a guide for eco-tour company Baja Discovery.

Jose Luis's animated face mirrored my own, as he reached toward my salty sea-soaked head. "Wait a sec," he steadied, "You've got whale lice creeping up your nose!" Whale-watching guide extraordinaire that he is, he picked off that fat juicy louse. I had resurfaced from another dimension. Locked at the hip from the panga's gunnel and leaning to the limit, I had planted a big smooch on top of a gray whale calf's head.

Floating on top of the "whales' house" along with brants, scooters, terns and brown pelicans, we learned how these "friendlies" first came to be known. It was in 1974 when a whale surfaced close to a fisherman's boat. Of course he was terrified of the legendary "devilfish," renowned for upsetting boats. (Whalers used the tactic of harpooning the calf, drawing the enraged mother closer - ramming the hunter's boat). It's a wonder how the gray whales ever were to trust us. Yet this whale and fisherman bridged a trusting chasm between the two worlds that day. Today generations of whales continue to nudge their calves toward those splashing appendages just under their roof. Truly San Ignacio Lagoon is "Home of the Friendlies."

All week the whales had spiritually touched me, but I had not yet touched them. I was OK with that. The last day a strong wind kicked up a feisty sea. We heaved through the choppy troughs, attempting to decipher a blow from a white cap. Plying the waters without luck, we were ready to give up, when suddenly a whale breached with a leap, twist and a crash on starboard. Then Jose Luis yells, "Whale - 9 o'clock." The boat lists from right to left (watchers scurry to the other side). I see the behemoth sliding precariously close under the panga. She surfaced on the other side with a blow so magnificent, it was like the sea itself coming up for a breath. She disappeared as quickly as she appeared. Ecstatic with this finale, we turned the bow toward camp… when wait… we were getting an encore - a whale, yet another and another. We were sustaining "spotting-whiplash" realizing we were drifting among eight whales - four pair of moms and calves. This colossal play-group gamboled with each other and seemingly with us. With renewed vigor we resumed our overboard splashing - inviting them closer. And then it happened - a calf came up to meet me, and as it enjoyed my hands nuzzling its baleen and caressing its "eggplant-smooth" skin, I leaned forward … and what can I say…it was the "the cherry on top."

We danced that last night, raising our glasses of blue agave, paying homage to Poseidon and Neptune. We applauded the peach and lavender sunrises, the symphony of seabirds, the howl of coyotes and the starry nights that seemed to make the sea glitter with sequins. But mostly, we celebrated the whales. Looking into their eyes, they reminded us, "…for the soul to come to its true self, it needs the help and recognition of the [whale]. It craves the empathy between man and beast, that nagging shadow of remembrance…which asserts our unity with life. Paradoxically, it establishes our own humanity, for one does not meet oneself until one catches their reflection from the eye other than human." Loren Eiseley's words suggest that these whales have much to teach us about our humanity. Can we afford not to learn? Isn't it about time we leave whale enough alone?

Back to main page »