What will nature reveal to us today?
by firmm Team
Text: Fabjola Biraci (volunteer with firmm), Fotos: firmm
The day begins cold and grey. The Strait of Gibraltar lies beneath a thick blanket of cloud, a few hours before our second boat leaves the harbour at 13:00. Slowly, the sun breaks through the clouds.
What will nature show us today? It’s a question we ask ourselves every day.
Many of our guests come on board with certain expectations. Some hope to see all the marine mammals in the Strait of Gibraltar during the trip. It’s a hope we’re all familiar with: the desire to be treated to something special. The desire for nature to reveal itself. For it to grant us a glimpse into its world.
For us, every trip is a gift. We are grateful for the opportunity simply to be out there. Present. Curious. Open to what lies ahead. And ready to accept even what does not come.
We depart on time. The first thirty minutes pass quietly. The sea carries us between two continents. Europe on one side, Africa on the other. And we are in between – on one of the world’s most important maritime corridors.
Then the first animals appear. Pilot whales. Highly intelligent social creatures that live in close-knit family groups. Shortly afterwards, dolphins appear. Then Pilot whales again.
First at nine o’clock. Then at eleven o’clock. Then again at two o’clock. The attention on board begins to shift. People move from one side to the other. Children point excitedly at the water’s surface. Plush dolphins are held high in the air. Cameras are brought out. Then it grows quiet again. Almost too quiet.
And suddenly the boat picks up speed. The chatter ceases. Heads turn simultaneously in the same direction. The tension mounts.
To the right of the boat, two Sperm whales come into view. They breathe calmly. Steady. Focused. Their blow – angled diagonally to the front left, at an angle of about 45 degrees – is unmistakable. Even from a great distance, this tilted breath gives them away: this is a Sperm whale. The largest toothed whale in the world. An animal capable of diving to depths of over 3,000 metres. Endowed with one of the largest brains of any living creature.
But of all this, we can see only one thing at first: two massive bodies at the surface. Exhale. Inhale. Several times, until something changes. The first Sperm whale prepares itself. Slowly, the tail fin rises out of the water. This moment lasts only a few seconds. Sometimes too brief to capture on camera. The mighty fluke stands out against the horizon before disappearing silently into the depths. Each one is as unique as a fingerprint. Shortly afterwards, the second one follows. It too lifts its tail fin. It too disappears. For a moment, nobody says a word.
Then we hear the first quiet “Wow”. Not loud. More like a thought that has accidentally found its way out.
We carry on. Pilot whales accompany us.
Then another sprint. This time at the stern of the boat. A third Sperm whale appears. It breathes calmly and steadily, just like the two before it. We watch him. His skin. His composure. His complete indifference to our presence. And as we watch him, time seems to slow down a little. As if, for a moment, the world were breathing to his rhythm. Then he too lifts his fluke. And disappears into the depths.
We’re slowly getting ready for the return journey. The windows are raised so that no water splashes into the boat. We’ve been heading back towards the harbour for about ten minutes already. People are leaning back. Some are closing their eyes. The sea seems calm once more. Suddenly, the boat picks up speed again.
“At twelve o’clock!” we hear Katharina Heyer shout.
And before anyone can react, a Fin whale breaks the surface in the distance – not just with its back, but with its entire body. An animal up to 22 metres long and weighing up to 80 tonnes pushes against the water for a moment before plunging back in.
Why Fin whales sometimes jump isn’t immediately obvious. It may serve as a means of communication during the mating season. Perhaps the animals are also trying to rid their skin of parasites in this way. Or it was simply the sheer force of a massive body pushing against a wave. We’ll never know for sure. Only then do many realise that their cameras are still switched off. No photos. No videos. Just memories.
We carry on. And then – to our left, some distance away – a dark back appears. A long, steady breath. The characteristic V-shaped blow rises into the air. Again a Fin whale.
Like Sperm whales, Fin whales rarely reveal themselves fully. Most of the time we see only a long, dark back gliding across the water’s surface. More of a hint than an appearance. A brief glimpse of an animal that spends most of its time in a world hidden from our view.
Yet Fin whales sometimes give away where they will surface next. Their colouring is unique. Whilst the left side of their lower jaw remains dark, the right side is strikingly white. When the animals swim just below the surface and tilt slightly to one side, this light-coloured patch shimmers through the water. For a moment, the deep blue gives way to a silvery-white glow.
Suddenly, all eyes are drawn to that bright spot beneath the surface. We follow it, watching its movements and trying to guess where the whale will surface next. For a few seconds, the animal disappears completely from view. Only the bright trail beneath the water remains. Then it breaks the surface again. And right beside it, a second Fin whale appears. The second-largest animals ever to have lived on our planet – larger than any known dinosaur.
They swim together and then disappear beneath the surface again, as if they had never been there. All that remains are smiling faces. People who are only just beginning to take in what they have experienced.
We continue on our way towards the harbour. This time for real. The tour is almost over.
And once more – right at the very end, as we approach the harbour – another Fin whale makes an appearance. There it is again, that V-shaped blow rising high into the sky.
As we finally make our way back to the harbour, I wonder what story each and every person has experienced today. We were all on the same boat. We saw the same animals. Felt the same wind. And yet, each of us will probably take something different home with us. We, at any rate, are grateful. For the sea. For the animals. And for a day that has shown us once again just how generous nature can be.
