Whales as Swim Instructors - May 27, 2010

WHALE WATCHING

DIVING DEEP

THE MONO-FIN

LOOK MA - NO HANDS!

BOTTOMS UP!

Whaling, whaling over the bounding Maine.

Actually the ocean today is not very bounding – not even very bouncy. And we’re not even in Maine- we’re in P-town on Cape Cod. We have just embarked on the whale watching ship Dolphin IV with about 150 other passengers including sister-in-law Josephine and her friend Peter. The sun is bright and temp in the 80’s. Looks like smooth sailing. But just in case, the Dolphin Fleet operators are offering free Dramamine at the snack bar before departure. Peter and Jo avail themselves but Rena and I are good.

It doesn’t take long to spot the whales. Humpback whales (Megaptera novaeangliae) are feeding all around us as soon as we reach Stellwagen Bank National Marine Sanctuary. I’ve seen whales many times before but they never fail to impress. One female has a calf but she keeps her distance and it’s not easy to get pictures.

We enjoy several displays of cetacean behavior including blowing, breaching, fluking and the famous ‘tails-up’ dive maneuver. The whales seem to enjoy their diet of krill and are very, very frisky.

Seeing all these Humpback shenanigans reminds me of my newest obsession. Swimming with a “Mono-fin”.

About 10,000 years ago or so, people got tired of falling in water, sinking to the bottom, running out of air and dying. Finally, someone got the bright idea of imitating dogs, horses, goats or what have you, and began paddling arms and kicking feet, and managed to get back to dry land without drowning. She called it swimming. This doggie-paddle technique did work, if somewhat awkwardly. However, the paradigm of swimming on all fours has not changed noticeably over the last ten millennia. The basic stroke is still called the Australian crawl. (And even Michael Phelps who can swim rather well, would appear to the unbiased observer to be ungainly while doing it.)

Now, imagine if pre-historic men and women chose to imitate the dolphin, the shark or the whale instead of the dog and the goat. Imagine further that they had the technology to fashion fish-tails out of sticks, skins and bark. Just think how much better and more graceful swimming would be today!

All that is water under the bridge, of course.

Not until the tail end of the 20th century did the folks at the Finis corporation actually design an artificial terminal appendage based on a cetacean blueprint which enables homo sapiens to undulate effortlessly through stretches of water without drowning- The Mono-fin!

The Mono-fin is a plastic swim-fin shaped like a whale's tail with a place to snug both feet together at the base. The fin is held in place with a strap around both heels. Once firmly strapped-in, one has successfully converted from a crawling terrestrial to an aquatic power-swimmer like the dolphin, the whale or Mr. Phelps after he makes an underwater turn!

No need for any other appendages to propulse through the liquid medium - just use your strap-on artificial tail. Also, no need to coordinate breathing and strokes. When you feel like breathing - push hard with your 'tail' until you 'breach' the surface, leaping out of the water, blowing out the old air, sucking in the new and diving under again in one fluid maneuver. Just like a humpback whale!

I went to the local Aqua-spa last Wednesday to get a one-hour lesson in this new way to swim. That and some practice is all it takes! For Father’s Day I’m giving myself a present of a Mono-fin Wave (the blue one). I’m looking forward to using my new toy in the Powow River and in the Atlantic this summer. (UPS tracking assures me that my tail is in the mail!)

By the way, the Mono-fin is great exercise for abdominal, back, thigh and leg muscles. (Hip action in the Samba and Rhumba is also enhanced.)

The only down-side is a possible encounter with real whalers while Mono-finning the Seven Seas. An accidental harpooning would be distinctly unpleasant. I will just have to risk it, I guess!

Now if only someone would invent the artificial blowhole, I would be all set. I suppose I could mono-fin underwater on my back and use my nostrils for a spout – hmmmm. Sounds like another mad-science experiment for Daktari!

DAKTARI

Buchu Bushcamp - South Africa - August 15, 2007

Danger- Wrong Side Driver

Rafe at the Whale Spotting Beach

Pink Knees for the Ladies

Pink Knees for the Ladies

Buchu Hobbit Hut Cottages-Stick and Fibre Construction

Interior of the Hobbit Cottage - Where's Frodo?

This is the second part of last years adventure tour of S. Africa. In the last episode I was cage diving with great white sharks (See Shark Bait - August 13th, 2007). Now for the real scary part - my first time driving on the left side of the highway.

AUGUST 14TH – Off to the Bush

At 9 AM the rental agent delivers our vehicle to the hotel. It’s a Toyota Corolla with automatic transmission! Rena, Rafe, Colleen and I are off to the bush. That is if I can quickly adapt to driving on the wrong side of the road.

I carefully edge into the left land and proceed straight ahead. The car performs erratically at first. Or perhaps it’s the driver. One left, another left, then a right. This is too easy! Oops – almost hit the curb. Gotta go easy on the right side hubcaps. Wrong way rotaries are especially hard to get used to. Luckily, South African drivers are among the most polite, helpful and tolerant in the world. I only heard a horn sound once in three days of driving and I think she was a tourist from New Jersey. When a South African driver sees you overtaking, he pulls off onto the shoulder to let you pass. Sweet!

As we drive East on the N2, Capetown gives way to suburbs and farms. We leave the highway at West Somerset and hug the coastal route past vistas of sheer cliffs and small fishing villages. Back on the N2 then off again at Caledon, we motor through fields of green wheat and yellow rape. Fruit trees are starting to bloom.

We make frequent stops for photos and to allow Colleen to talk to the animals. She speaks to sheep, cows and ostriches. Male ostriches are black and females are dull gray. The male’s kneecaps and calves are bright pink. Later we are told that this only happens during mating season.

Carrying on through Napier we reach Bredasdorp – site of the shipwreck museum and the world’s southernmost Marathon. We turn onto a dirt road and 40 km later we arrive at the DeHoop Nature Reserve ( pronounced do-wop with the accent on the wop). DeHoop is famous for flowers and whales. The Buchu Bushcamp is a bed-and-breakfast just before the Park entrance. We arrive at sunset.

AUGUST 15TH – BUCHU BUSHCAMP

Buchu is definitely a low crime area. There are only 7 guests at the B&B. The four of us, a British birdwatcher and a Spanish couple who took a wrong turn and wound up at the reserve by mistake. Lucky them! This is a wonderful find. It looks like the hobbit village in Lord of the Rings. Our cottage is one big room with a loft for Rafe. The roof is thatch and we sit on tree stumps outside to watch the sun go down.

We dine in the big house on ostrich steaks and butterfish fillets with a central fire-pit for warmth and lanterns for light. The only power after dark is just what’s stored in batteries from the solar panels. There is no moon tonight and the Milky Way is spectacular. In the Southern hemisphere, you look directly toward the galactic core. What a view.

We fall asleep to the sound of peepers- just like spring at home. Also to the sound of energetic young Spanish tourists mating in the nearby cottage. “Are his knees bright pink?” I wonder drowsily. “Will this mating season never end?”

In the morning, sunbeams and showers alternate. The bush here is called ‘fynbos’ which means ‘fine bush’. When the sun is out there are multitudes of brightly colored flowers as if the rainbows are painting the landscape. ‘Fine bush’ indeed!

Our guide for the day is Jonti, the wildlife manager for the reserve. The staff at Buchu packs us a picnic basket and we follow Jonti into the park. Jonti has a bad stutter but his eyes are keen enough. As we drive to the park he points out two bontebok antelope and many elands. There are rare Cape zebras in the park, but since it’s the mating season we don’t see them. “They like to m-m-m-mate in private,” says Jonti. I think to myself, “They must be the only ones!”

Inside the park, Jonti warns us to lock the car doors. “Crime,” we whisper knowingly. “Not crime,” says Jonti. “B-b-b-baboons. They know how to open car doors.”

We take a 5 km nature walk with Jonti who is happy to point out birds, flowers and even the various varieties of ‘scat’. Scat are animal poops – baboon, antelope, ostrich and even porcupine poops.

Back in the car, we meet up with the baboons. Despite their bad rep, these primates are on their best behavior. Mama baboons are nursing. The baby baboons are playing. Even Dad is peacefully picking his fleabites.

We drive to a parking lot and hike over the dunes to a small cottage on the beach where we open our picnic baskets and have lunch. From here you can see whales – lots of whales. They are female Southern Right Whales and their pups – the latter are about 20 feet long. The pups are playing – jumping straight up, waving their tales and flipping their flippers. Rena and I walk the beach but don’t find any shells. A brief shower drives us back to the car, laughing.

Later, Rafe takes over the bar at base-camp and makes caipirinha for the waitstaff. Caipirinha, a concoction of cane liquor, lemons, sugar and ice, is the national cocktail of Brazil. This we enjoy with babooti the national dish of South Africa (ground beef with spices). After dinner Rafe does magic tricks for the staff.

We have a quiet night until Rafe discovers a bat in his bedroom. The sound of Portuguese cursing drifts faintly over the fynbos.

Daktari