Humpback Whales Archives - Page 12 of 13 -

Tilting at Windmills

By Simone Lipscomb | May 15, 2015

Pablo Picasso's Don Quixote — Pablo Picasso’s Don Quixote

“Do you see over yonder, friend Sancho, thirty or forty hulking giants? I intend to do battle with them and slay them. With their spoils we shall begin to be rich for this is a righteous war and the removal of so foul a brood from off the face of the earth is a service God will bless.” Thus spoke Don Quixote in the novel written in the early 1600’s.

Equipment removing tar mats from Bon Secour National Wildlife Refuge Summer 2010

There are times when I feel very much like Don Quixote. He might not have doubted his sanity but I doubt mine as I work to bring light to the environmental issues facing all of us. It feels like an unrealistic, impractical or even impossible goal. It may be noble but sometimes it seems completely unrealistic and perhaps even delusional.

The goal I set for myself is to be a bridge between nature and humanity. A bridge that raises awareness, increases communication and ultimately helps human and non-human life.

I believe the only way to help the planet is to help humans connect with…fall in love with…nature. This love will create compassion, care and wise stewardship. But there are days when it just feels as if the windmills…or oil rigs…or congressmen…or CEO’s…..really are hulking giants that will continue to destroy our Ocean planet…no matter how many crazy people like me write, photograph, document, sing or raise awareness through positive action.

There is no Sancho friend on this journey with me so at times the journey seems lonely. Yet today, as I cycled through the backcountry of Gulf State Park, I was reminded that humans are a part of nature. Every plant, animal, insect…everything is connected like diamonds in a web. So therefore, I am never alone. And neither are you. Perhaps our greatest error is to think we are separate, alone, divorced from that which sustains us.

For the past nine years I have dedicated my life to working full-time to help people connect with nature through writing, photography and videography. Living off of retirement funds and investing in equipment, book publication and travel to document unique places or species and to present programs to anyone who will listen, I have many times doubted my sanity. Why not just relax and forget this work?

Because…..Love knows no boundaries. I came into this life to make a positive difference and even if I’m tilting at those proverbial windmills, at least I am doing something.

SimoneLipscomb (9) — Latest version of the cover of my new book

The past couple of days have been challenging and pesky doubts have arisen. But when I checked my mailbox today I had another partner for my new book, Manatee Mindfulness, with a note from my friend that said, “You’re doing great work Simone! Rock on!”

Perhaps I’m not delusional after all. I’m thankful for the reminder from sweet friends! And from nature that reminded me today of the web of life that connects all life to this Ocean planet. We are always connected, never alone.

Whale Dreamer

By Simone Lipscomb | April 28, 2015

Whales are back in my dreams. It all started somewhere in the dark, rainy night when storms passed through washing everything clean. In the dreamtime I found myself at my brother’s barn. A large alligator was strolling by (evidently they do stroll) and decided to come inside the barn with me.

Not fond of close contact with alligators, I picked up a large stick and tried to hit the alligator but the bony, armored plates underneath the thick, lizard skin made the stick bounce off him. Since that didn’t work I simply stopped reacting in fear and began to talk to the alligator. He understood that he and I couldn’t share close quarters and thus moved out of the barn and continued his walk.

I awakened briefly and smiled in that half groggy/half awake place. Fear had been dealt with properly. Perhaps it was the Buddhist studies that helped me communicate with reason instead of knee-jerk fear and violence.

Back in the dreamtime I found myself floating in the Ocean with whales. I was in deep communion with them as I hovered with them, weightless in the salty sea. Peace. Amazing peace.

Another dream segment…but this time with musicians I know. The setting was the upper room of a venue that had very unique ways musicians “played.” Sort of the Circ de Sole of musicians. I didn’t know The Mulligan Brothers could fly or that Willie Sugarcapps could glide with grace across the floor on magic skates. In the dream I was videoing them and posting on Facebook.

Finally, I was back on the Ocean looking for whale blows. Gazing out into the horizon I saw the misty, white exhalation of a humpback whale. It was close enough that I could smell the fishy breath, that salty incense that delighted me a few weeks ago when it enfolded me.

I am not certain how to interpret the musicians “playing” in my dream nor how my future and humpback whales will be interwoven. I am certain of one thing though: I am a whale dreamer.

Saying Goodbye to Whales

By Simone Lipscomb | April 12, 2015

April 3rd

We left our mooring on the Silver Bank early this morning and it feels as if my heart is being torn from my chest. I sit on the flying bridge listening to Whales Alive through my headphones. A rainbow arcs across the sky. So many emotions, so much love and gratitude course through me. The building music mixed with whale song and poetry narrated by Leonard Nimoy matches the graceful and powerful movements of the whales in the distance.

As our ship moves ever-closer to land I see lob tailing by a baby and mother whale. How precious to see life expressed in these gigantic gentle beings so beautifully.

Now an adult begins fin slapping with the brilliant white of the fifteen foot long pectoral fins acting as beacons of light against the cloudy sky. It was as if two angel wings reached for the heavens and each thunderous slap on the Ocean’s surface a call…but for the whale I am unsure of the meaning. For me each fin slap is an explosion of energy and a reminder, “See this! Hear me! Pay attention! Goodbye! Thanks for visiting! Come again!”

Off in the distance a whale is breaching repeatedly…over and over and over…joy exploding from the depths and I am sobbing now. The music of Paul Winter builds as the whale song crescendos and I find myself lost in a world of music of humans and whales. Such harmony, such power.

Flying fish glide silver against the indigo, liquid light of the Ocean. They go bouncing from wave to wave, sailing through troughs of the moving sea. Such beauty.

This experience of being with my humpback sisters and brothers has taken me to a place within myself that is deep and silent, still. After a week with whales I still find myself at a loss for words for the depths of emotions they have brought forth from my depths. I don’t know how I will integrate this week with my life. Of this I’m sure, I am changed. Transformed.

The sky at the horizon is light blue and grows in intensity of blue as my gaze wanders upwards. Small, white clouds dot the sky–puffy delights of cottony, flat-based moisture-laden beings.

I hear a shout from the bow. DOLPHINS!

I carefully hurry down the two flights of stairs to find several of my two-legged friends from the past week cheering as 10 spotted dolphins ride our bow wake. We stand and gaze over the side and watch the acrobatics of these sleek and lovely creatures as they leap, surf and frolic. This lifts us all as each of us has expressed feelings of sadness at our magical time together with whales and each other comes to an end.

It feels as if my life suddenly makes sense but I have no idea where it goes from here. I simply know that something is happening that was unlocked that came from surrender to childhood dreams. Perhaps as children we remember the path we dreamed with angels, while floating in that amniotic sea.

The song of the humpback called me many years ago and finally I heard it in real time, in person. It is my intention to listen deeper to what they are singing. Not with a scientific mind but with the eyes of my heart.

——–

Even though words frustrated me as I wrote each day of my experiences with humpback whales, I hope in some way I was able to convey to those interested readers the sacredness of this experience. It is my desire to return often as a friend and support to the whales that call the Silver Bank home…and to think of them daily with respect and love.

Special thanks to Tom Conlin whose dedication to the humpbacks of the Silver Banks helps them remain safe and protected in their calving and breeding waters. And to his crew of Aquatic Adventures.… Lorenzo, Denise, Brandt and Lisa thank you!! And to the Crew of the Turks & Caicos Explorer II…JF, Mark, Jane, Pipa, and Mia thank you!!

Rainbow Thursday-Part 2

By Simone Lipscomb | April 11, 2015

First Encounter April 2nd

Mom and Baby…. O. M. G. !!!

The juvenile came right up to me…have no idea if I got photos or video but it was so close I saw the soft, gray of the face, the deep folds of skin and the eye looking into my eyes. It was within ten feet of me. So beautiful. So deeply profound.

Then later lob tailing by mom and baby, breaching with both, fin slapping. Amazing….AMAZING!

There was such a sense of profound peace when floating above the mom and calf. It is as if all the secrets of the deep are carried within her and I can witness these truths, this wisdom that is beyond anything I’ve ever known.

As I watched exhalations carried by the wind I smelled the fish wondrous whale breath. Perhaps I’ve slipped over the edge…over and over the edge.

SimoneLipscomb (44) — *Mother and juvenile humpback practicing their lob tailing*

I stood on the small boat photographing mama and baby with rain softly running down my face mixed with salty tears. I thought, I am loved (lob tail from whales) I am cared for (another lob tail). I am supported (thunderous SLAP!! with those flukes). Such sweetness.

This morning as I stood on the dive deck observing the rainbow, mother and juvenile humpbacks, tears also came. So deeply did I feel that everything in my life is moving in the right direction. I realized the more I surrender, the more opportunities arise. My love for the Ocean is deep and has been a guiding spark since I was a child and begged my parents to allow me to order (for free) the Jacques Cousteau book (which I still have).

SimoneLipscomb (18) — *Mother whale fluke with our boat, Turks & Caicos Explorer II, in the background*

Afternoon

We saw one mother and baby briefly in really deep, rough water. It was an in-water encounter but wasn’t long as mama didn’t settle and it was difficult for us to hold a position in the rough seas. We were outside the protection of the reef so I don’t think anyone complained when we re-boarded the tender and headed back inside the reef.

*Our sister boat with the other half of our group.*

The rest of the afternoon I stood on the side of the small boat and watched for whales. Deep in thought, I rode. It gave me time to reflect and prepare for leaving this magical place tomorrow morning. I kept hearing the first part of D.H. Lawrence’s poem, Whale Weep Not. “They say the sea is cold but the sea contains the hottest blood of all, and the wildest and the most urgent.”

I stood riding the waves from my perch on the boat with tears pouring down my cheeks and the ocean splashing on my left foot. I felt in perfect balance and so happy, so incredibly happy and joy-full. Such yearning within to spend more time on the Ocean, in the Ocean in the presence of whales.

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Whales Notes: A soft-encounter is where humans are allowed to float quietly in the Ocean observing humpback whales. Touching is not allowed. The quieter and more still, the better the encounter. Mothers rest and sleep suspended in the water column and babies come up to breathe. If the group of humans stay together and within sight of mama whale, it’s best. Juvenile surfaces, breathes, circles and goes back down to tuck under mama. Because their buoyancy isn’t perfected, the babies need mom’s stable body to help them stay submerged.

Entanglements are deadly to whales and other sea life. Some fishing practices use large lines and traps and once a whale is entangled in these heavy lines, it can cause major problems for them. Notice the large scar on this mother whale’s tail. Luckily she was freed and now has a happy, wild baby born this year. Other whales are not so lucky.

Rainbow Thursday–Part One

By Simone Lipscomb | April 10, 2015

I awakened around 5am and climbed to the upper deck of the boat to await the dawn. A dark rain cloud was hovering in the eastern sky and a wall of rain soon began to move across the Ocean toward the boat. I moved down to the first level which is covered but open on the sides. The loud shuuuu sound of the rain on the sea was beautiful music.

Past the small boats that were tied behind the mothership I saw a fluke slap the surface…then another…and another! And then a baby fluke appeared beside the mother whale and joined in the tail-slapping fun. It was obvious the juvenile was still learning as the control of the large fluke was a bit wobbly.

A couple was standing just inside the salon of the boat so I ran to get them. The whales were pretty close to us. I commented, “There’s got to be a rainbow with the sunrise and the clouds.” Suddenly a brilliant rainbow appeared in the sky, arched over the mother and calf and the calf breached. We looked at each other in disbelief.

The whales continued their lob tailing, fin slapping and the juvenile played in the rainbow as the pastel colors kissed the surface of the sea. I was thankful there were others to witness this phenomena as who would believe this? One of the crew members, who was summoned to the otherworldly event by this invitation: “There’s a baby whale playing in a rainbow,” later said “Who says that?” Exactly. Who says...there’s a baby whale playing in a rainbow?

After people wandered away I stepped down on the dive platform so I could see the full arch of the rainbow. The mother and baby humpbacks were still there, but quiet now, coming up to breathe and then resting. Their white, misty exhalations a stark contrast to the dawn sky.

As I stood level with the Ocean, saltwater washing over my feet, I felt the immensity of this vision. Not just the vision of this incredible experience but the vision that guided me here, to this place…to this life. The support of those unseen forces that guide my life wrapped around me powerfully. I could quite literally feel their touch. And from unseen realms I heard clearly: “Your work is supported, your life is guided. This is the promise we give…you will always have our support.”

Remnants of the rainbow linger as I sit, writing about this experience. The mother whale and her baby just surfaced and exhaled. The mist from their breath lifted upward into the soft, pastel colors of promise. The Crystal River trip in January comes to mind where I was making a voice memo about following my dreams and the intense rainbow appeared…and the cross-street, Follow That Dream Parkway. Meeting the marine biologist who operates a humpback whale research station in Tonga who planted the idea and reminded me of my life dream to be with whales. This all seems so surreal. Rainbows and whales and life dreams.

Mom and baby whale are still there, literally at the end of the rainbow. And I know with certainty that I am guided, supported and loved, beyond anything I can imagine. I am so incredibly grateful.

Note: I didn’t have my camera on deck when the whales were playing in the rainbow. And I didn’t want to risk missing a moment of the experience to run downstairs to get it. These images are from later in the day with a mother and calf…I think it was the same one as this behavior continued for a long time. Regardless…the magic of it still moves me. And the rest of the day was amazing…stay tuned.