Lazy Day in Kaikoura

Today - Thursday 18th Feb - has been at a slower pace. Which is very nice, from time to time. We didn't get up very early, I have read a book (not the whole book you understand, this is a lazy day) and someone else did the driving, or sailing to be accurate, as we went whale watching.

This is quite an elaborate ritual. First one finds the Whaleway Station, at the appointed hour - 10.30. This is actually an old railway station on the still functioning Christchurch to Picton (narrow gauge) railway line. And one "checks in". Followed by a spot of hanging around, till we are "called" for the pre-cruise "safety-briefing". And learn how to don a lifejacket, that the boat has a range of safety and buoyancy devices, some of which are then listed. A bus then takes us to the waiting boat, some ten minutes away at the harbour.

Then, handing in one's boarding pass, those who like me get a headache/feel seasick when indoors on a bobbing craft are thankfully allowed (like families with small children) to board first and are (sensibly) directed to the least bobby seats.

With more (very helpful) advice on how to avoid feeling seasick (basically just look at something that doesn't move - like the horizon) we are off. Into the most alarming swell as the craft rears up and then dives over the head of a wave - and we're just out of the harbour. But it improves and apparently just dives as we progress. This is (another) astonishing piece of geology. Just a mile or two out we leave the continental shelf and the ocean floor drops from about 90 metres depth to 600 metres in the Kaikoura Trench. Current swirl up this south facing trench, bringing nutrients from the Antarctic and, like icing from an icing bag they are spewed into the bay south of Kaikoura. To the delight of whales and seabirds.

As the boat lurches south, we are accompanied by one or two seabirds, skimming inches above the water in swoops, dives and curves. And then we see an albatross, who does this in spades. Here he is, bearing towards us,

and then on a skywards rise.

The boat is powerful and pushes speedily through the 2 metre swell, stopping occasionally to listen, with one of these...

... a hydrophone, for the clicking of whales as they echolocate their prey.

The skill of the captain is undeniable as she successfully locates a whale...

With many a shout of "Thar she blows" we all saw Tiaki. I am a bit unfair here. There was no such shout but I felt a distinct thrill as I saw the back of the whale and then a blow a few seconds later. I could feel how exciting a moment it must have been to nineteenth century men aboard whalers in the cold icy waters when they saw their valuable prey. No hydrophones to help them. No sat nav. A make or break life for men far from their origins in Europe. The whaling station at Kaikoura is bleak enough - a small wooden house at the end of the peninsula, open to the worst the sea and wind can bring. And you can see that though we are in summer, this is a grey day. What of the whalers in places like South Georgia, Grytvingen, and the Falklands?

The whale is "called" Tiaki. He has been here for about 20 years. And sometimes others come too. He is still young in whale terms.

The sister Whale Watch boat has been tracking us with him. And you can't see it or hear it, but above us are a helicopter and a fixed wing plane . Tiaki desperately needs a good agent, for millions are invested in him. And if he leaves, Kaikoura will become a very quiet place.

After about ten to fifteen minutes on the surface, he dives, in traditional style, like this...

...(well done Tiaki) for his lunch.

We return, a fascinating experience. I have never seen a whale before, and this is truly a privilege.

One of the other benefits of proximity to the sea is seafood, and tonight we have eaten seawater crayfish - massive langoustine, tender, sweet; bought from a caravan on the shore, washed down with Marlborough wine.

What a treat.