There are a couple of things I’ve learned in these past four years, the first time I’ve lived near salt water.
First, I don’t think I want to ever live far from the ocean again.
Second, there are no whales.
OK, one that lives near Campbell River. Maybe.
Friends see them. Acquaintances see them. Strangers see them. They are clearly having psychotic episodes because there are no whales. These people need professional help.
No, I don’t have a boat and I haven’t really been ocean fishing, save for an hour or two. But I spend a lot of time on the shores of the Salish Sea, plus roughly 20 trips a year on ferries of all sizes. And these people who tell me they are seeing these whales are having these experiences from shore, or so they say.
Coming back from Quadra Island earlier this year, the ferry captain alerted us to a killer whale in the vicinity. With old, bad binoculars I think I saw a dorsal fin breach a couple of times. It was being followed by a whale-watching tour boat.
About that. With all due respect to the people who own and operate these whale-watching tours all over the Island — and I get that their expenses would be considerable — I think shelling out hundreds of dollars for a few hours, jammed on a zodiac with a bunch of other suckers, is ridiculous.
If I have that kind of money lying around, and I never do, it seems to find its way into the pocket of my kids’ orthodontist. Or my beer store’s cash register.
It’s getting to be a bit of a joke around the office, my denial of the existence of whales. You see, my poor co-workers are in that group of delusional sods who believe they have seen whales. Just last week, one of these well-meaning people heard there was a pod just off Qualicum Beach and texted me pronto.
Off I went, camera and good binoculars in hand, to chase the elusive whales. As I’m driving, trying to get ahead of them, I’m feeling like I’m in some intense Discovery Channel show, chasing whales instead of tornadoes, or something like that.
Upon arrival at what had to be the perfect place, somewhere behind Deez, I scanned the water for a whale. Nada. Checked my phone, where there was a another update from that co-worker who said these, uh-hum, whales, had moved on, went north and further away from the beach.
Yeah, right. Now it’s OK for them to tease me to the point they send me on wild whale chases? How cruel.
I’m starting to wonder if the poor orcas I saw when I was eight years old in that terrible place of captivity called Marineland in Niagara Falls were actually real.
Next thing you know, someone is going to try to tell me there are actually dolphins out there too.
— John Harding is the editor of The Parksville Qualicum Beach News. E-mail: editor@pqbnews.com.
