my own worst enemy

I'm a whale watcher...

Wednesday, April 12, 2006

"...watchin' whales go by. My, my, my."

Okay, no; I am not a perv who gets his kicks out of ogling whales. Man, just thinking about that gives me the jibblies. The nibbly jibblies.

But what I most certain am is a Certified Whale Watcher. And I've got the card to prove it, bitches. What do you got now?

How did I become a Certified Whale Watcher, you ask? Well, I'll tell you. Seeing as how neither my roommates nor friends were around the week/weekend of my birthday, they felt the need to celebrate it last weekend. So Phil and Pangle (who I presume were the ringleaders here) decided to round up some people and take me on a whale watching cruise on the South Bay. Most excellent!

The excursion itself was a bit less simple than you might think, though. There were many obstacles and terrors to defeat in order to obtain my newly achieved title. First and foremost was getting on the boat before it left the dock. Phil, with the planning skills of an army general (e.g., Custer), had not pinpointed the exact location of said dock prior to departing on our adventure, and we arrived at the ticket counter at precisely the last minute. Luckily, the curator of ticket sales wasn't going to pass up the fares of six extra passengers and we were allowed on board.

Upon leaving the dock, the captain of the Voyager (our barely seaworthy transport) began rattling off the safety announcements. We all perked up when he mentioned the most important of topics: vomit. His entire speech on the matter was summed up by one sentence: Swallow your pride; go over the side! And boy did they. I saw no less than three asian tourists lose it over the side of the railing. The best part was that there was an 8 inch ledge on the side of the boat which seemed to act like a puke-magnet. One poor shipmate (employee of the tour company) had to go around the boat with a brush on a pole and wipe down the side of the ship whenever someone blew chunks. And I thought my job was crummy.

The tour took us down between Palos Verde and Catalina Island as our guide informed us that we were looking for the (apparently elusive) gray whale. About 45 minutes into the tour, we spotted a few dolphins. I can't remember the species name; it started with an R, I think. Apparently these bad boys are normally a dark grey, but like to stratch each other's skin with their teeth which makes them turn white when they get old. Why do they do that? No one knows. Not even God. So stop asking questions.

We also saw some sea lions sleeping on a bell buoy. A few woke up to check us out as we drifted by, but they just fell back asleep. Can't say I blame them. Then we saw a few bottlenose dolphins, but they swam away from us. Maybe it was all the boot on the side of the boat that drove them away.

After three hours of trolling around the South Bay, our tour came to an end. Grand total of whales seen: zero. Awesome! The tour guide tried to inform us that dolphins are indeed whales, just small whales. "Blasphemy!" I shouted. "You're a whale heretic!" She then pronounced us all Certified Whale Watchers and tried to sell us merchandise. Matthias bought a patch and gave it to me for my birthday present.

So there you have it. To become a Certified Whale Watcher, you don't actually have to see a whale. You just have to taunt your tour guide. Done. Aaaand done.

(I took my camera out with me, but the pics are on film. If any are good, I'll post them soon.)

This entry was posted on Wednesday, April 12, 2006 at 6:48 PM. There are . If you want, you can leave your own response by clicking here. You may also send this post to a friend of yours via email, or bookmark it for yourself by using icons below;