Friday 5 November 2010

Rub my nose in it, why don't you

Pft. I go all the way to Seattle, drive up to Anacortes, take the ferry across to Friday Harbor, stand on deck the entire time freezing my nose off, poking it around the edge so I can watch the sea, marching back and forth swapping from port to starboard; I stand for ages leaning on the wall at Lime Kiln Point blinding myself staring at the sparkles on the water; look out over the coast on all our drives around the island; and spend the whole return journey on deck again, trying to watch both sides simultaneously - and don't see so much as a flash of black and white.

Then I'm home again stuck in a classroom all morning with Meine Schwester ist fleißig and L’année dernière je suis allée à Paris, and all the time there's a pod of orcas flaunting themselves in the inner harbour right here in Auckland. Merde!

I'm getting a thing about orcas. Humpbacked whales, even sperm whales - yawn, them again? Dime a dozen. But orcas - never seen one, tch. Even though it was a bit late in the season, the resident pod was still hanging around the San Juan Islands, according to the friendly lady in the Whale Museum, so it was still possible to see them. I just wasn't in the right place at the right time - and if the mere fact that I didn't see them isn't enough proof, here are the numbers, as provided by the helpful people who run the whale-spotting operation at the cute little lighthouse.

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