Whale Tails and Other Sightings

No one would ever accuse us of being too sophisticated. We don’t take classes on French wines, and our favorite cheese is cheddar. We prefer Johnny Cash to Pavarotti, a square dance to ballet, baseball to polo, and Kohl’s to Neiman Marcus. 

Until yesterday, you were more likely to find us at a monster truck rally than at a yacht club, although we’ve never been to either.

Yesterday, we chartered a yacht and sailed into the blue depths of the Pacific Ocean. We snacked on artisan cheeses and cured meats while the wind danced in our hair and the dolphins frolicked for our amusement. We slung our sweaters round our neck and sipped our beverages with pinkies raised.

On the sea, we were kings, and its creatures our minions. We stood with our face into the wind, teetering on tiptoes precariously close to the edge of the ship, with only a thin metal rail between us and the frigid water, daring the sea to cast us into her. Only the tiniest of squeals ever escaped our lips when a burst of salty spray alerted us to the presence of the gray whales. With a majestic flip of their sleek black tails, the whales saluted us on our maiden voyage into the great Pacific. We, in turn, fought off hunger and a waning enthusiasm to enjoy every nuance of their performance. As the sun slowly marked its path across the pristine sky, we had the audacity to feign disinterest as the magnificent show dragged into the afternoon. I may have even politely stifled a yawn behind a gloved hand. 

For four hours yesterday, we were masters of the sea, masters of the land, masters of the universe.

By now you’re probably wondering who are these people and what have they done with our charming cast of heroes and heroine.  Have they been overcome by body snatching zombies?  Were they indeed cast into the sea and replaced with robot doppelgangers?

No, these are not the case, but perhaps I should admit that my tale is sentimental and almost entirely true.

We went boating. We saw whales. We saw dolphins. We even saw sea lions. As for the specifics...well, only my fellow yachties can dispute those.

Whale tail! The only kind I like to see.

Whale spray!

Jacob and Benjy consider swimming with the dolphins.

Lazy sea lions.  At Sea World, they work for a living.

Just to be clear, this is not us, nor is this our yacht.  But for sentiment sake, our yacht looked 

sort of like this one. They were the same size anyway.

Jacob prays he won't hurl.

"I'm bored. When are the whales gonna do some tricks?"

Call me Ishmael.

Jacob, Benjy, Chris.  But where's Andrew?

There he is! That was a close one.

That looks totally safe.

Mother of the Year.