I board the boat, and am off on my third whale watching tour of 2011 by 8:15am. The morning's fog can still be seen resonating as the boat rushes towards the southern-most isle of the Coronados. My trip takes me around the southern bend of the island looking for the spouts of the elusive Gray Whales as they make their perilous trek to the lagoons of Mexico. As I round the tip and head eastward, my confidence in finding these beautiful creature never falters. I keep my eyes peeled, jacket held to my chest as I scan the horizon for any sign of the cetaceans. Whether it be spouts of water resulting from the animal's exhale, or a whale "foot-print", a disturbance in the surface made by the tail of our bounty as it dives.
I head North, back towards home. After an hour or so closer to home, I spot a few spouts near a small group of whale watching tour cruises. Settling for a position parallel to the cetaceans, I watch as they come up for air. A few breaks in the water, and the whale comes up for air: dolphins are leading the whales. The sight is quite amazing but it isn't long until I am surrounded by dolphins. I break from the whales to allow the dolphins to swarm the bow and ride along side me. A sensation swells inside my chest at the sight of these beautiful and graceful creatures. I realize that in search of whales, I have inadvertently rediscovered a strong sense of appreciation for the smaller and far more numerous cousin of that which I had originally set out after. Now, ain't that a story?
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