Wild Barley

Clouds billow, like marshmallows, on a distant horizon. They look ominous as they kiss the sea, hinting at the rain to come. Above there is nothing but blue sky. A stiff breeze tugs at loose clothing and whips the top of the deep blue waves into white horses. Despite this the swell is low and in a following sea the huge ferry ploughs on towards those distant clouds. Now above the clouds a different skyline appears, hazy and indistinct to start with, many do not even notice but to the knowing eye they are the peaks of northern Spain. But this is just the scene at the end of a day full of reconnections….

From first light I have been on the most top deck of the ferry gazing out at that beautiful ocean, scanning beyond the waves and white caps, searching for more. Crossing from one side of the deck to the other, a group of nearly 70 similarly eager people are doing exactly the same. Our time is well rewarded as we reconnect not only with friends and colleagues not seen for years, but with the sea and with the passion that connects each of us on that deck. Whales.

The group is made of volunteer Marine Mammal Surveyors from the charity ORCA. Old and new. Some, like me who have volunteered for years. Others brand new, taking the opportunity to get out and meet the team before undertaking a survey. We had spent the evening before restoring old connections and making new ones. Regaling, sharing and swapping stories of past surveys and the wildlife they had brought.

Now in the bright sunlight, against the white caps and dark waves comes a tall distinct spout, some strong and clear, some little more than a wisp carried off by the wind. All telling the same tale. A whale had just surfaced blowing breath and water high into the sky, refilling powerful lungs with precious air before submerging once more.

It has been a most successful morning for sightings, and while the majority have been just those tall spouts near to the horizon, really and truly there is nothing ‘just’ about seeing a whale blow. There is nothing ‘just’ about seeing the breath of the second largest animal on the planet. Most were recorded as ‘unidentified whale’ in all likelihood the vast majority of our sightings that morning were of the incredible fin whale.

There is a thrill that runs through my veins and pulses through my blood every time a shout of blow goes up, and even more so when it comes from my lips. And when some of those whales pass closer to the ship, meaning a large, long back and swept back dorsal fin appears through the waves the excitement ramps up. Shouts of delight are borne across the deck, carried on the wind. Passengers come scurrying over, one person helps another to connect with the whale and in doing so creates and strengthens connections with each other. There is nothing quite like seeing a whale or dolphin in the wild, they connect with us in such a unique way, and for me nothing quite like the thrill of helping someone else make that connection. It brings a new dimension to the passion and excitement.

Finally after a day of reconnecting with people and whales, the clouds and mountainous skyline take shape and brings the inevitable, intense deluge of rain. The ferry leaves the open ocean behind, entering the confines of Santander harbour and the sun reappears, leaving the low cloud out at sea. There are golden sandy beaches, green mountains and colourful buildings, and time for the group to enjoy Santander, an ice cream, a beer or tapas before boarding once more for the return journey home.