HUMPBACKS OFF SYDNEY HARBOUR

“Something extraordinary and completely unexpected happened.”

Why do humpback whales breach? Is it play, communication, or something more instinctive? For David Waterhouse, this question became more than just curiosity when he witnessed it for himself, unexpectedly, just beyond Sydney’s edge. David has chosen to leave a gift in his Will. A decision shaped by moments like this, where wonder turns into something deeper.

We hope you enjoy ‘Humpbacks off Sydney Harbour’’ – personal insights and observations by David Waterhouse – a passionate naturalist, storyteller and WWF supporter – from his experiences in nature.

We first became aware that whales were in the vicinity when the skipper suddenly revved up the inboard motor and swung the boat around in a wide arc.

You could feel the ripple of anticipation among those on deck as the converted fishing vessel forged northwards through the swell.

It seemed to take an eternity but at last the distance narrowed. Thirty pairs of eyes scanned the horizon. The minutes ticked by as we watched the wave tops expectantly for the first sign of a whale.

At last, an arm pointed off the starboard bow, and, for a few brief moments, I glimpsed a tell-tale puff of vapour in the mid-distance. After a minute or two we saw another spout of warm breath, followed by a second.

As we tossed on the waves, it became possible to get into the rhythm of the whales movement so that their surfacings could be predicted. The second whale always seemed to break the surface at the same time interval and at the same distance behind the one in front. The first indication of their presence was always the vapour from their exhaling lungs. These whale spouting’s were like fine sprays of mist which hovered over the wave crests for a few seconds before dispersing on the wind.

As the boat drew closer, we were able to see the giant animals at long last. They were humpback whales. We didn’t see much of them at first, just the tops of two arching bodies as they broke the surface of the water before submerging again. We could never be sure where they would reappear. Sometimes they were well ahead of our vessel and at other times they were more or less level with us. A sighting of vapour would be quickly followed by a smooth, humped back rising just above the swell like some sinuous sea serpent emerging from the depths.

Their tiny dorsal fins were only visible for a moment or two as the huge arching backs rotated above the water, followed by the massive tail flukes. These two humpbacks were roughly the same size each reaching at least twelve metres in length.

Sometimes a flattened, pointed head appeared briefly as it ploughed through the waves close to the surface and occasionally, we glimpsed a huge white flipper with knobbly projections on its leading edge.

They looked undeniably massive, but as they ploughed their way slowly but relentlessly northward, it was obvious that there was nothing ungainly or ugly about them. They left a strong impression of powerful, fluid grace which was a delight to experience.

As the pair approached the South Head of Sydney Harbour, I realised how strange it seemed to be viewing them so close to the metropolis—on the city's doorstop so to speak—but passing unnoticed by its human inhabitants. Yet here we were, observing these great leviathans as they passed the tightly packed tombstones of Watson^’s Bay Cemetery as the traffic passed along Old South Head Road. The pair of humpbacks had quickly passed the Harbour entrance and were off Manly Beach when something extraordinary and completely unexpected happened. First one whale and then the other leaped completely out of the water, flashing their white undersides as nonchalantly as two mullets in a creek! The whale watchers gasped in astonishment at the spectacle. Anyone who had turned their attention away for a few seconds would have missed it.

I had seen photographs of this 'breaching’ phenomenon as it is called, but I had never expected to witness it myself without making a trip to one of the humpbacks’ calving lagoons such as Hervey Bay.

No-one knows for sure why they bother to do it at all. Some say it is an attempt to rid the body of sea lice or similar parasites, but others explain it as exuberance. I would like to believe it is the latter: an expression of the sheer joy of living.

Whatever the explanation, no other species of whale displays like the humpback and most people who have seen one leap clear of the water agree that it’s one of the most impressive sights in nature.

Maybe we’ll never know exactly why whales breach. But we can help leave that question—and moments like this—for the next generation.

For David, that’s what matters most.

Through his gift in his Will, he’s helping protect wildlife and wild places, so these experiences remain part of the natural world.

You may wish to do the same.