Mariano & the whales
The expedition starts at six o’clock in the morning and we sail across Banderas Bay, Nayarit, Mexico, in search of the “Megaptera novaeangliae”, better known as the humpback whale.
We want to see this cetacean that descends from Alaska to the warm waters of Jalisco and Nayarit between December and March, although the humpback whale is found in various parts of the world.
Our captain is Mariano, a talkative fisherman from Las Animas, who proudly boasts of having learned English because as a child he was frustrated at not being able to communicate with strangers who arrived.
Today Mariano is 55 years old, he moves the helm of “Sarita”, speaks English and is a humble captain who found his life’s passion in the sea.
Almost two hours have passed since we left the mainland and there is no sign of whales. I begin to think that once again I will be left with the desire to observe this enormous mammal that can measure up to 16 metres and can weigh 36,000 kilos.
Suddenly, Mariano shouts: “There she is!”
A pectoral fin hits the surface of the sea hard and elegantly a black silhouette with white dots emerges and soon attracts another one. It is a female whale and her calf, Don Mariano tells us.
Minutes later, a huge tail comes into view, a sign that the whale will go down to the depths and in less than ten minutes it will return to the surface to breathe. We wait and then watch it jump.
Curiously, the males emit a complex song that lasts ten to twenty minutes and repeats for hours. Scientifically, the purpose of the song is unclear, but it seems to play a role in mating.
“With so many radars on ships, cruise ships and motorboats, it is difficult for the whales to hear the song now, there is too much noise in the sea,” says Mariano with the certainty that comes with age.
That day we saw seven whales and one of my many dreams came true.
