Flukes and Spouts

I wonder if whales have a sense of humor? Do you think that they ponder our existence at all? Or are we like squawking seagulls dropping doo doo over their heads? You know--loud, obnoxious, bossy, pushy, messy.

Yes, we went out whaling again and this time we got us some whales. One hundred ninety people shooting at them like mad. It was a mess. I thought we would capsize every time they would say, "Whale at 3 o'clock!" and everyone would stampede to the keelhaul side, which is nautical speak for the right side of the boat. The left side is the peg leg side, the front of the boat is aye matey, and the back of the boat is the poopdeck side. I am so educated on those terms now. (There is some fancy measurement on when a boat becomes a ship, something like if it is longer than 150 yellow rubber duckies it is a ship.)

I felt kinda of bad for the little kids on board. (Yes, yes. There were little kids on the boat. No, I didn't heave any of them overboard. I was the model of restraint.) I mean, they totally don't get the o'clock stuff. We are going to have to invent a whole new way to do that. They have no idea how to tell time. My Teddy Bear got a fancy new watch for Christmas and she loves wearing it because it's pretty, but do not ask what time it is. She will pull out her cell phone. She says the watch is just a fashion accessory, it's not really meant to tell you the time. How could it be she tells me...there are no numbers on it, only little lines. Whatever. Sesame Street needs to get cracking on this problem.

Anywho, whales, dolphins, and sea lions were out in force...and so were the looky loos. Not us, of course. We motored out past buoy SD-1. Sailboats were far out on the horizon. The San Diego skyline was off to our left looking beautiful. I had a Bloody Mary in hand. Sunlight sparkling off the water. Life was beautiful. Except for all the people on the boat. If you remember, the last time we went whaling, it was raining and there was maybe 30 people on that excursion. This time it was sunny but not hot and we were packed like sardines with 190 people. And thank heavens the little kids stayed on the middle deck for the most part. When I did become such a curmudgeon? I used to be able to tolerate decibel levels that would make a Children of Bodom concert seem quiet by comparison. I was the mom that let the kids leave the cool fort they made in my living room up for days because they weren't done with their adventure.


Back to point. 


You could see other boats wayyyyy out there. Until we started seeing whales. Then it was like a crash on the 405 freeway. The other boats start racing toward us going right over where we had seen a whale. That is OUR whale, go away! There we are floating with our engines trying to be as quiet as possible and here comes the gawkers (not us, of course). It was a traffic jam. Gridlock. 

I think the whales are going to need a car pool lane. 

And the whales were everywhere~! Flukes and spouts. One at a time. Two at a time, sometimes even four at a time. There we were running back and forth trying to see them all. I finally just stayed put in the perfect spot. 

I don't think my mailman will be amused. But like I have said before, he can bite me. He only brings me letters from the tax man and junk mail. 

So, is everybody ready to float around and drink rum and yo ho ho on the Pacific Ocean? I'm sure that a whale spout enema doesn't hurt too much.