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by Dave Grant Oh, 'twas in the broad Atlantic, 'Mid the equinoctial gales, That a young man fell overboard Among the sharks and whales. (Anonymous British sea shanty)   "Stowaways" An old sailor's superstition claims that if a small bird lands on your vessel it is a sign of good luck for the entire voyage. This certainly set the tone for the Society's 1989 spring Cape Cod Whale Watch trip out of Provincetown, MA. The May weekend, (this was the ninth annual), promised familiar scenes and faces, but new surprises too. In spite of a stormy forecast, the rain held off, and both Saturday and Sunday had classic Cape Cod weather - cool, with periods of brilliant sunshine interspersed with fog "so thick you could stand on it." Mid- May is the peak of the bird migration through this area, and we were rewarded with a terrific flight of song- birds. Cape Cod acts as a funnel to migrating land birds in the spring, just as Cape May does in the fall, and birds gather at the Provincelands before heading out over the water on the perilous final leg of their journey to Maine and Canada. Surprisingly, our best bird-watching was at sea, not in the dunes and beech forests where one would expect it. Fog, and we had plenty of it, is often a boon to coastal bird-watchers because restless migrants collect at points of land before they head out to sea en masse. On Day-1 of our weekend, migrating songbirds tagged along with our vessel, benefiting from the draft of the boat while it was underway. When we were heading north this was a boost to the migrants; however this was not the course we maintained all day, and our presence in the fog seemed to distract some birds from their task. Many would follow the vessel for some distance, regardless of our headings and their instincts. When we idled to search for whales, the vessel was a hazardous refuge for tired land birds of all types. As tiny songbirds dropped out of the fog and hovered over us before landing, many became targets of gull attacks. Although we weren't certain we observed any fatalities on our cruises, many small birds probably end up as gull-food when they slow their pace over the water and catch the attention of these opportunists. Species that landed on the deck (and on the heads, shoulders, and cameras of fearless ALS whale-watchers), included: orioles, white-throated sparrows, and at least six species of warbler: redstart, magnolia, myrtle, black and white, yellow, and parula. They appeared quite tame, owing to their exhaustion; which is odd since we were never that far from land. Perhaps these were young birds or disoriented in the fog and circling for lengthy periods until they found a reference point. It's also possible they left land from some point other than Provincetown and had been in the air for many hours before they intercepted our vessel. Regardless, they are always welcome shipmates and gave us unparalleled bird-in-hand views of their breeding plumage. An unexpected sighting worth mentioning was barn swallows skimming the calm surface of the water, apparently drinking salt water. This is something that only seabirds are supposed to do and warrants further observation. The gannets were also a hit, as always. Their spectacular dives for fish confirmed that even though the whales were not in view, we were near their food source and with luck we would eventually see them too. The whales were so close we actually could hear and smell their exhalations through the fog and the captain assured us that since things smelled so fishy, we were certain to see whales eventually. Soon our patience was rewarded with glimpses of humpbacks breaching some distance away. Moving toward them we were side-tracked by another exciting discovery, a whale of a fish. A 25-foot, 4,000-pound basking shark swam parallel with us and then maneuvered right under our bowsprit. It lingered long enough to demonstrate its surface feeding behavior, zig-zagging lazily with its mouth agape and snout out of the water - and to have its picture taken before moving off into the mist.  The basking shark's scientific name, Cetorhinus, means "whale shark", the common name of another, even larger shark. (The whale shark, Rhincodon, is the largest fish in the world, and a member of a different shark family.) At a length of only 45-feet, being the second largest fish is not too shabby; and to its credit the basking shark shares first place with the giant squid as the subject of early tales of "sea serpents." Groups of basking sharks are known to swim single file, and
could easily be mistaken for a much larger creature by untrained
observers. Also, they are one of the only giant sharks regularly
found washed up on the beach. Partially This was not to be however, even though we were provided with much better visibility the next day. Although the birds and sharks had moved on, the mammals had not, and our sightings on the second day included seals and more humpback whales. The highpoint of the day was a young fin whale, no larger than the basking shark, that circled our boat at close range. Normally shy, this photogenic youngster was apparently as curious about us as we were about it. So another successful Cape Cod whale-watch with the trusty Dolphin Fleet ended on a high note. As we all headed for home our only question was, "What surprises are in store for us next year?" NOTE: Grant teaches natural science at Brookdale
Community College in NJ and led the Society's annual Cape Cod
Whalewatch in 1989. He drew the illustrations. |