The first southbound Gray Whales have been spotted along the
California coast, destined for Mexico where they spend the winter months breeding
in shallow protected lagoons along Baja. Robustly 23,000 strong, almost all
pass by my college town of Monterey twice a year on an epic 12,000 mile
journey. Like the amber shades of autumn, the appearance of Gray Whales off the
west coast of North America signals a change in the seasons, as reliable a
natural rhythm as the Earth’s rotation around the sun. Here in the southern
latitudes of the North Pacific a different species of whale, the humpback, marks
the arrival of winter. Hawaiian locals and the illusive observant tourist alike
are more than familiar with the acrobatic areal displays and haunting melodic
songs of Humpback Whales in their waters. From December through March one is certain,
if enough effort is given, to see the stunning foamy explosions of humpbacks flinging
40 tons of blubber from the surface, or to spot the tall bushy geyser of a whale’s
exhalation on the horizon. Based on rather simple mark-recapture models, it is
estimated roughly 20,000 humpback whales occur in the North Pacific Ocean, of
which 8,500 to 10,000 breed throughout the main Hawaiian archipelago. There are
of course other breeding populations throughout the tropical Pacific, all of
which migrate between different feeding areas. For example the humpbacks I made
a living off of watching during the summer in California travel to mainland
Mexico and Central America, whales off of Siberia travel to southern Japan and
the Philippines, and curiously enough based on recent DNA and photographic
evidence there is a possible unknown breeding ground somewhere in the middle of
the Pacific for whales that feed primarily around the Aleutians in Alaska. This
got me thinking…French Frigate Shoals is about as middle of the Pacific as one
can get…so I started digging.

Combing the ocean for signs of whales is almost an
involuntary reflex for me now, and given the opportunity to contribute a bit of
knowledge to this under sampled region, I’ve initiated of a dedicated whale
watch. Elevation and good weather are crucial for observing whales. The
warehouse roof offers a 360 degree view out to 12 kilometers, enough to search
a decent portion of the atoll granted the weather cooperates. Over the next three months I plan to scan the
waters around Tern Island for at least one hour each day, in an effort to shed
some light onto the number of whales, if any, which occur in this small segment
of the world, along with the types of behaviors they may exhibit. Looking at
the acoustic data and the opportunistic sightings from previous volunteers,
whales begin to arrive around Tern in early December, peak in February, and
drop off again in late March. I’ve already had my first confirmed humpback
sighting on November 28th, a lone individual that surfaced three
times and disappeared. Based on what I’ve seen in Australia, this was likely an
early singing male, which often appear cryptic at the surface and tend to stay
down for over 20 minutes while singing – difficult to relocate once they dive. I’m
hoping to get some significant counts in the coming weeks, possibly enough data
for a poster to present at the Marine Mammal Conference in New Zealand in
November of next year; giving me a particle excuse to travel down under again. Always
have to think of the end game right?
Hands down, your love of marine science has to be unsurpassed! Inspiring! No tsunami warnings?
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