Welcome to Minke City
We have finally arrived — and these ice-loving whales are giving us a very warm welcome.
“Back deck to bridge. There are three minkes off the starboard side.”
George Longshore, third mate of the R/V Laurence M. Gould, picks up the radio. “Bridge to back deck. Roger that — we see them.”
The mobilization seems to happen in record speed — grab the tagging equipment, don the waterproof gear, and get to the back deck. Just ten minutes later, Ari Friedlander and Jeremy Goldbogen load into the Solas and take off across the water. We keep watch from the bridge, trying to maintain sight of the whales as their dorsal fins dip behind ice bergs.
Through binoculars, we watch the small red boat come closer and closer to the whales. Friedlaender raises the long tagging pole off the bow, the whale surfaces — then slips beneath the water again. Friedlaender inches the pole closer to the surface. When the whale surfaces again, he nails it — the minke dives, with a suction-cup tag stuck securely to its back.
Over the radio, we hear confirmation of what we just saw. Friedlaender successfully tagged a minke — the third one of the trip.
Just a few minutes later, we hear another transmission. “Solas to Bridge. We have placed a second tag.”
“Roger that,” Longshore says into the radio. “You guys are on a roll — great work.”
Everyone on the bridge is smiling — the morning has just taken a huge turn. Thirty minutes ago, we were searching for a lost tag. Now our number of tagged minkes has suddenly doubled.
And then, because this day is destined to just keep getting better, the radio crackles to life again.
“Solas to Bridge,” Friedlaender says. “We have placed a third tag.”
Longshore is amazed. “Copy that,” he says. “Outstanding!”
With three tagged animals in a concentrated area, and perfect conditions (glassy water and hardly any wind) the rest of the team mobilizes. Friedlaender and Goldbogen return to the ship so that Emma Levy and I can hop in the Solas. Meanwhile, in the zodiac, KC Bierlich and Dave Johnston fire up the drone while Chris Taylor and Dave Cade begin prey mapping.
I can’t believe we’re in the same bay as yesterday. Less than 24 hours ago, we spent most of the day scouting for minke whales, and saw nothing but humpbacks. Today, without a single humpback in sight, the water appears saturated with minkes.
From the Solas, Levy and I spot a group of three right in front of us, and a group of two about a half mile off the port side.
Unlike the flashy humpbacks, most marine biologists characterize minkes as elusive and shy — but today they’re breaking all the rules. We slowly approach the group of three, careful not to scare them off. A minute later, the whales start swimming in a circle around our boat, surfacing frequently to shoot hot bursts of air out of their blowholes. The drone buzzes 50 feet above us, capturing stunning aerial images. Before the day is over, Bierlich will collect data-rich images of 12 different minkes.
After circling around us twice, the group of three swims away — but the whales aren’t done showing off yet. “Over there,” I say, pointing. “Did you see that big splash?”
Roughly 200 yards ahead of us, a minke launches out of the water. A second later, another one imitates its partner.
“I can’t believe it — they’re breaching!” I say, fumbling with my camera. “I thought minkes didn’t breach?”
Our marine technician, Michael Tepper-Rasmussen, radios to the Zodiac team and steers the Solas towards the whales as we watch in awe. Until now, we have only caught brief glances of them — sleek gray dorsal fins slicing through the water — but now we can see their faces, flippers, and bellies.
Watching whales breach is always a special experience, but to see elusive Antarctic whales breaching between ice bergs is nothing short of surreal.
“I’ve spent four years working on whale watching boats,” Levy says. “Most people are accustomed to seeing humpback whales breaching — that’s what the nature documentaries always show. But seeing a minke whale do this — it’s such a different experience.”
An hour later, we pull up next to the Zodiac team. Dave Cade has a broad smile plastered across his face. “Good show, yeah?”
I’m at a loss for words. I shake my head in disbelief and say, “this is insane.”
Bierlich fires off the most fitting description for the day, yelling into the wind, “it’s Minke City out here!”
Want to see more from the minke team in Antarctica? Check out our photos on Instagram and follow #insearchofminkes
