FOGGY ADVENTURE

Sooty Shearwaters hunting anchovies

The anchovies are running up the coast again. Last year in Aptos, we watched as an extraordinary long line of Sooty Shearwaters skimmed across the top of the ocean above the swimming anchovies. This year, first the seals and sea lions gathered in great numbers on San Carlos Beach in Monterey. Then came the whales. Anchovies are food for all these sea animals.

Cormorants  Photo by Bill Slavin

I've never seen a whale out in the ocean. On my birthday this week, we went on an adventure down the coast to Pacifica, a small town just south of San Francisco. Dressed for a sunny day, I looked out the window at the blue-sky morning and turned west towards the ocean. I saw fog. I wondered if I was dressed warmly enough and grabbed another layer. We set out down Highway 280 to Mussel Rock Park. As we turned into the parking lot, a small sand-colored coyote scampered across the road and up an incline. He stopped, turned his head, looked at us, and watched us go by.

The fog hadn't lifted as we parked and walked towards the cliff's edge overlooking the beach. Mussel Rock was barely visible at the bottom of the cliff and the ocean had disappeared behind the fog. We disturbed a young man who sat on a picnic bench near us. No whales to view here, but a spot for someone to enjoy a few moments of quiet.

We decided to look for coffee and headed further south to Pacifica, which is a small beach town broken into three coves by the hills that run down to the sea. We drove around the homes on the first cove, then stopped at the middle section near the municipal pier. The fog lingered around the fishermen who lined the pier. They talked with each other in various Asian languages as they fiddled with rods, lines, and bait. They too were there for the anchovies. We watched as one caught an anchovy, unhooked it, and placed it in a bucket filled with seawater. We looked for the horizon but the fog still covered the ocean. No whales to see there.

Pacifica Municipal Pier    Photo by Bill Slavin

We continued our trek along Highway 1 and came to the southern section of Pacifica. The fog had lifted  and before us, we saw another cove whose shape created a surfer's beach. Surfers lined the waves, their legs dangling off the edges of their boards while they waited for the perfect wave to bring them back to shore. The sun brought warmth, and we parked and walked toward the sand. We looked to the horizon and couldn't tell at first if what we saw was an illusion. Finally, though, we spotted a spout of water erupting from the sea, and then a black object moved up out of the water and back down. Far away, but a glimmer of a whale indeed. We watched a flock of white gulls flying around the same spot and saw spout after spout break the water's surface. To our delight, one whale breached so that its head and white throat shot out of the water.

Pacifica State Beach   Photo by Bill Slavin

When we lived in Danville, a host of wild animals lived in our neighborhood. We heard the cries and yips of coyotes late at night, we scrambled to the window to watch deer leap over our low fence, looked for the one rabbit that visited our hill each year, watched out for rattlesnakes along our path, and marveled at the flight of swallowtails who would return to the garden year after year. A dense city like San Francisco also has wildlife, but they are mostly nocturnal and have learned to be wary of humans. We hear the calls of gulls, crows, and other scavenger birds early in the morning, but we don't see the proliferation of wildlife that we used to. Sighting those whales, even from a distance, reminded me what an effect nature can have. The desire to see wildlife in their own habitat makes me more aware of our connections with other life on Earth.

Whale-watching was a good birthday present.

Check out the Pacifica Whalespotting group on Facebook:

https://www.facebook.com/groups/352947586172817/