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Wally estimates there are 3,500 whales in the waters surrounding us. We are in Wally’s 40-foot boat, heading out from the
Churchill River into Hudson Bay. He is the captain in his wheelhouse. We are the audience, wrapped in warm, orange onesies because it is threatening rain and the wind off the Bay is cold; we are told there is still ice in some places further up the coast. It’s choppy and the boat slams against the waves. We are uncomfortable, bored. Ten it happens. Wally points out some white humps far off in the water. “Whales,” he says. And suddenly we are surrounded; white bodies breaking the water everywhere around us, luminous under water, dancing and diving just beneath the surface, teasing us, testing us, rush- ing towards the boat and swooping under it, grey babies by their mothers’ sides, swimming so close you would think they were one. I am paying attention, trying to assimilate this, try- ing to live in the moment but wanting to preserve these images through the fickle lens of my always inadequate camera. No matter how much skill and technology are brought to bear on this scene, being there is everything. After a surface count of 350, Wally estimates that there were
probably more like 3,500 whales thickening the waters. He says that for every whale on the surface, there are 10 more under water. We still the motors of the boat and listen to the whales
sing. Sometimes they make a trumpeting sound as they break through the surface. Wally drops an underwater mic and we hear amplified clicks and musical squeals. Tey respond to the high-pitched voices of teenage girls, we are told, and some of the guys try to get their attention by whistling. Te whales also respond to the sound of the boat and after a while, with the boat quiet, they lose interest and drift away. When the mo- tors start up again, they return like torpedoes heading straight toward us. Our guide, an intrepid girl named Jud, who carries an amaz- ing head of dreadlocks threaded with seashells, dangles an or- ange jumpsuit near the water, convinced that the whales are curious about that colour. We whale watchers are talking to them — silly, perhaps, but still asking the whales to pose for our cameras. It’s as though they understand and they dance enticingly near the boat. I get an eye shot and I am thrilled.
thehubwinnipeg.com
When it comes to belugas, being here is everything.
Jud, our guide, sports an awesome set of dreadlocks.
Wally at the wheel. Fall 2016 • 49
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