To celebrate Valentine's Day this year Lucas and I decided to take a trip to Ventura Harbor and go whale watching. The last time we had plans to watch whales on Valentine's, we got stuck in traffic, never made it there, got into a terrible fight, and dined on cold pizza and beer while watching "Newlywed" reruns on MTV in sweats.
This time, we headed out to the harbor with plenty of time. We piled into a tin floored catamaran and nestled in close. It was warm and windy. The boat was big enough that I felt safe, but small enough that we felt every wave with a leap in our stomachs.
The boat circled Anacapa island. 45 minutes passed. Then an hour. No whales. I started to wonder if we'd see anything. But just then, a spout. Distant, quiet, small from where we sat. A geyser of water exploded from the island shoreline. Everyone rushed to the side of the boat. 2 whales breached the surface. One gray, slick arch and then another. Both raised their tales and crashed them back into the water. We watched them, mystified until they swam farther and farther away, tracing the island.
As we sailed back, 2 more whales. This time humpbacks! 2 immense, dark black arches breached the surface of the water for only a moment. The whales were big, we got just a glimpse. The water seemed endless, our tiny boat bobbed through limitless black. I felt small, but seen and loved. And the whales traveled in pairs.