Chasing Whales in Monterey Bay

Look. Birds over there, sea lions fishing. There might be whales nearby.

The guide had barely finished when a humpback whale launched itself out of the water.

I froze. I was recording through my Meta Ray Bans, just trying to capture the boat ride, and suddenly the only thought in my head was: did the glasses catch that? You cannot replay footage on the glasses. The suspense would have to wait.

It turned out to be the first of many. Within minutes we were surrounded. Whales in every direction, a full 360 degrees, and nobody needed to crowd to one side of the boat. The captain cut the engine and the bay just performed. We had left the dock early and there was not another whale watching boat in sight. We basically had the bay all to ourselves.

At one point the whales were so close that I took a selfie with two of them in the frame behind me. No explanation needed.

Then came the feeding frenzy. Birds in the sky, birds on the water, whales and sea lions all piling into the same patch of ocean, gorging on anchovies. Monterey Bay sits over a deep submarine canyon where cold, nutrient rich water wells up and feeds the krill and anchovies, and the humpbacks follow the food from spring through fall. On this late September day I counted forty to fifty around us. And something no photo captures: the smell. Whale breath, the guide said, smells like rotten broccoli. I have never smelled rotten broccoli, but it was awful. They eat fish all day and never brush their teeth. That is a joke. Mostly.

When the humpbacks finally thinned, the captain went hunting for blue whales or orcas. We found neither. What we found instead was better, at least for me. "Look, a magical big fish. An ocean sunfish!"

A mola mola, floating on its side as if sunbathing, drifting right up to the boat. Twenty years ago in Chongqing, I had stared at a sunfish specimen in a museum and never forgotten its strangeness. Now here was a live one, paddling beside me. Some encounters close a circle you did not know was open.

Back at the harbor, the sea lions had claimed the sidewalk. They were draped over the pavement, barking, biting each other, stinking worse than the whales. I got within a meter for a selfie. Too close, honestly. I knew it even then. Some photos are not worth the disturbance, and that is the one thing I would do differently.

Three hours on the water, back by eleven. Lunch was a bowl of cioppino at the harbor, eaten in a happy daze. The drive back to the Bay Area nearly did me in. I was so sleepy I had to find a place to pull over and take a nap in the car. Worth it. Completely worth it.

Would you want to experience any of these someday? Make them part of your World →