i like penguins (read more »)

common dolphins porpoising at dawn

Dawn this morning was absolutely gorgeous, with orange-red ribbons of reflection interleaving themselves between midnight blue ripples on the dimpled sea. The bioluminescence in the water was so strong that our wake was a glowing, deep turqoise even in the illuminated red of dawn.

african penguins exit the water, triumphant

After a day out on the water photographing great white sharks with Chris & Monique Fallows (of Air Jaws fame), I walked down the road to the African penguin colony on Boulder Beach (I think that’s what it is called). All of the other tourists have left, leaving me sitting on the boardwalk alone with the penguins. The only sounds I can hear are the waves crashing and juvenile penguins squeaking and braying (they used to be called “Jackass penguins” because of the sound they make). (read more »)

We went out today and played around in 6-meter swells. The things were HUGE, and some of them were even breaking way out in the ocean. I love looking out over the water from the beach on days like this because the oceanic horizon actually becomes jagged! I have never seen it so pronounced anywhere else in the world.

The dolphins were going nuts in the big swell, riding waves all around us, and we also came across three humpback whales trying to do the same. They were repeatedly breaching (sort of half-assedly), splashing around, and seemed to be enjoying the rough seas. The luminous white/blue glow of an upside-down whale in shallow ocean water is one of my favorite things to see.

We stayed out until our skipper decided that it was getting too dangerous to be out in open water.

In the afternoon, we went up to The Gap to hike down to the blowhole, which was absolutely going off because of the high tide and large swells. When we got there, we were able to see thousands of Cape gannets diving on what must have been a big bait ball way offshore. Drew estimates 2-4 thousand gannets in one rough group (with smaller sub-groups all diving on individual bait balls). But we couldn’t have gone out for the action even if we wanted to. From our high vantage point, we could actually see huge, rogue waves that had broken out at sea — long, frothy lines moving north. Totally bizarre.

All this new action is sad because we’re leaving tomorrow and won’t have the chance to see what happens here on the Wild Coast. :(

The ocean is so fickle. Yesterday, the sky was black with Cape gannets, and our zodiac had a twenty-dolphin escort for nearly the entire day (a mere twenty among the hundreds around us). The action was really great as we gunned through the surf out of the valley, but we were not able to actually jump on any of it. Most of the action was in the muddy, no-vis area close to shore, and a nice, stable bait ball we found out in open water dissipated at the moment we finished suited up. All of this action was against the reports we’ve been hearing, but that’s the way it goes. After all, we don’t really care of the main shoal is near; all that matters is that there is good action.

school of bottlenose dolphin (Tursiops truncatus) plus an oceanic
black-tip shark (Charcharhinus limbatus) off in the distance

As is typical, the action thinned out as the morning progressed. We nearly called it a day because of the strength of the wind, but as we moved closer to shore and away from the mouth of the valley (wind tunnel!) we were able to find relatively calm water. We randomly fell off of the boat around some sharks and a pod of dolphins (on snorkel), and after awhile, we happened upon a small humpback whale at the surface. It was just gently bobbing up and down while breathing shallowly. (read more »)

It must be a difficult decision to decide which one to get.

Note to self: don’t watch anymore Wong Kar-Wai while travelling alone.

This made me laugh out loud. :)

(c) poisonedminds, via the other eric

I’m sitting in the shade next to a slightly-yellowing, sunny lawn, listening to constant, dull roar of crashing waves and the sounds of strange birds chirping and crackling and whistling. Dramatic, shaded cliffs tower off in the distance to the north across a small river, and I can occasionally hear the foreign clicks of Xhosa being spoken by the staff as they bustle around.

I’m recovering from this nasty bug, and I’ll be back out on the water tomorrow.

July 4th! Drew, Ken, and I are going to find the other American in town to celebrate. Maybe we’ll debate the bullshit going on in Congress lately.

The IMAX team packed up yesterday and left. They have concluded that the sardine run isn’t happening this year, which is to say that the chances of filming a good bait ball have been so low that it isn’t worth staying (it’s been 5 years since they started the project!). Scientists report no presence of sardine eggs during water tests at depth, and others have reported that the main shoal was just spotted at East London, which is hundreds of kilometers away. Still, the predators are all here, and days out on the water are full of life. Only in Galapagos have I seen pods of dolphin so big and birds diving on fish in such large numbers, but here, you see it everytime you go out on a boat. We’ve had incredible humpback whale activity, too, and have been seeing at least ten a day during their migration north to Mozambique.

All this laying around (recovering from the flu) has kicked off another bout of fantasizing about settling down — you know, meeting a nice girl and having a “normal” home life.

Grass is always greener, folks.

Last week, we were taken to Magwa Falls (5 days ago) and Fraser Falls (7 days ago), which are really gorgeous waterfalls near the Mbotyi area. At one of the falls, our guide, Dave, walked off of the beaten path and ended up with dozens of tiny ticks all over his legs. I didn’t think much of it, since I spent most of my time standing in the river itself and not wandering around in the grass. But yesterday, I started to experience nausea, fever, headache, and general malaise. (read more »)