Doing the Right Whale Thing

I was sitting one recent morning at my desk that faces the Atlantic Ocean when I noticed a sailboat passing by at least a half-mile offshore. When I went to take a photo of it, I spotted something else in the water. I snapped a picture, ensuring I got both the boat and the unknown object in the frame.

I switched to my binoculars and couldn’t believe my eyes. The long dark object appeared to be a whale. The morning sunshine reflected off of its face. I had never seen a Right Whale before, but I was pretty sure that’s what it was. I took a couple more shots and then Googled the phone number to report the sighting.

Earlier, I had noticed a red and white airplane circling over the ocean just to the north of our rented condo. As I found the number, I put two and two together. Because they are an endangered species, most Right Whales are tracked by various science organizations, including the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration. I figured the plane must have been verifying the whale’s presence.

Because Right Whales are protected, the public is asked to notify authorities of any sightings. Right Whales migrate more than 1,000 miles south from the Canadian and New England coasts to warmer waters off the Carolinas, Georgia, and Florida’s east coast. It is there that they calf their young.

Scientists estimate that less than 400 Right Whales still exist. Protecting them and their young is critical to the whale’s survival. Consequently, the requests to report their sightings.

My call went to voicemail at the North Atlantic Right Whale Project, a Florida Fish and Wildlife Conservation Commission division. It wasn’t long before I received a call back from one of their agents asking when and where I had seen the whale. When I told the person that a red and white plane had drawn my attention, enabling me to spot the whale, I was told it was one of the project’s aircraft.

The agent told me that what I saw was actually a mother and her calf and asked me to send my photos to them to help support the plane’s sighting. I gladly cooperated.

I looked closer at my photos. I could see two separate facial reflections, one large and another much smaller. I was ecstatic. The images aren’t top quality since the whales were a half-mile from me. I was glad for the sighting and more than happy to help identify this Right Whale mother and her baby.

© Bruce Stambaugh 2022

Author: Bruce Stambaugh

I am a writer, author, photographer, birder, walker, hiker, husband, father, grandfather, brother, Anabaptist, and community activist. My life is crammed with all things people and nature and wonder. My late father gave me this penchant for giving and getting the most out of life, my late mother the courtesy, kindness, and creativity to see the joy in life. They both taught me to cherish the people I am with. I try and fail and try again.

10 thoughts on “Doing the Right Whale Thing”

  1. This is very exciting! I strained to see if I could make out the baby. I don’t think my eyes can see details in the water. And I’m sure this is was not only fun but gave you a feeling that you were a part of something big. Thank you for sharing.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Yes, Carrie, it is very hard to see the details. I even had trouble through the binoculars. It was the person I talked to who told me there was a baby alongside the mother. The white reflections are their faces.

      Liked by 1 person

  2. That’s an amazing story, Bruce. How great you can enjoy this view from your desk. I vividly the majestic Right Wales from a visit to Cape Cod many years ago. Their head is quite distinctive, and clearly visible in your amazing captures. How good you got in touch with the organization. Great story! Thanks for sharing!

    Liked by 1 person

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