Whale of a Sign

Understanding the humpbacks' impressive displays

WORDS ANDREW WALSH

Boom! Splash! Boom! Splash! Boom, splash bellows the humpback! If you listen carefully, you can hear it. Just sit at the water’s edge, with your feet in the sand and eyes on the horizon. It’s the sounds of a koholä (humpback whale) calling across the blue. They are said to be the greatest form of Kanaloa, the primordial deity for the ocean, sea creatures, and all growth on earth and in the sea.

Listen for the pounding thumps, pulsing like the Hawaiian drumbeats of antiquity, calling us back to the waters from which the ancients came. Boom! Splash! Boom! Splash! Boom! Splash! Over and over, echoing across the waves of time and oceans. But these are not the rhythmic drumbeats of sea foraging canoes or mighty King Kamehameha as he sails to unite his Hawaiian kingdom. Nor is it the sound of modern steel ships cleaving the ocean, pounding up and down as blue waves and rusted iron collide. No, it’s an even more ancient vessel. The boom-splash is the powerful resonance of one of the strongest muscles in the animal kingdom—the humpback whale.

The humpback rears its flukes (tail fins) high into the Hawaiian sky, up from the water’s depths and then smashes them down upon the waves for all who can hear, for all who are listening to its mighty tale of tails. A graceful display of forthright fury, over and over, the humpback will pound its massive flukes against the water’s surface until satisfied its message, its goal, its purpose is fulfilled. Scientists call it “lobtailing,” but what message or meaning it serves is known only to the whales.

Boom! Splash! Boom! Splash! Boom! Splash! Could it be a simple call to any humpbacks in the area to say, “Here I am, here I go, here is where I came from?” Is it a signal to fight, or not fight, saying, “Hear the power I possess to any who would challenge my stature?” Most mammals during mating season tend to display a bit of showing-off especially when love is in the air. Could it be just plain fun? Maybe its a colossal itch that needs scratching and how better to itch a 30,000-lb. tail without a backscratcher? Surprisingly, little is known as to what these behaviors that humpbacks display truly mean, but we have a few ideas.

In their cold feeding grounds off Alaska, lobtailing is often observed alongside a complex and clever method of fishing called “bubble-netting.” Humpbacks over-pressurize their 2,500-gallon lungs (in less than 2 seconds) and dive deep under schools of soon-to-be-eaten fish. Skillfully, the humpback travels in large concentric circles around the school releasing air from its blowhole. The streams of air create walls of bubble-nets that scare the fish into tighter and tighter circles. The less-agile hunter tightens the bubble rings until a critical mass of fish stands ripe for the taking. In a massive display of size and strength the humpback uses its immense pectoral and fluke fins to catapult up through the torrent of confused and confined fish. Opening its mouth wide and scooping up 2,000 gallons of water, the whale quickly slams the gates shut and then push-filters the water out through its 270-400 baleen plates (filament-type bristles) trapping the doomed prey.

So we might say lobtailing is part of a feeding behavior. Perhaps it serves to keep the scared school of fish from jumping out and over the bubble net. However, humpbacks also lobtail here in Hawaiÿi where they come to calf and mate, yet they do not eat. That’s right, over their 6-month journey, which includes one of the longest migration routes of any animal ever to have lived, 3,000 miles across the largest ocean on earth, humpback whales rely only on the energy stored in the 12 inches of blubber encapsulating their 90,000-lb. frames. Keeping in mind they swim continuously for 6-8 weeks each way, that is one long fast. If you aren’t impressed by humpbacks, you’re either a blue whale (which is much bigger) or not much impresses you!

But what then does lobtailing mean if not a specialized feeding behavior? Studies of other whale species have shown it often plays a role in social dynamics within whale communities. We know that whales are complex, social creatures, capable of melodic vocal languages and even distinct cultures throughout the world. They regularly complete feats of navigation modern science can’t explain or replicate without complex technology, instrumentation, and a scientific understanding of celestial objects. So maybe when a whale slaps its tail on the water it has a good reason, as humpbacks are clearly capable of reasoning.

And what better reasons do any of us have than sweet, irrational love! Energetically speaking, a tail slap is a bad idea if you haven’t eaten in four months. The tail weighs upwards of 30,000 lbs. It’s a workout for the humpback to raise itself upright out of the water and defy the laws or gravity, social conformity, and the dynamic energy-budgeting theory. But the heart wants what the heart wants. Sometimes we spend all our money on that perfect gift for that perfect someone. Sometimes we spend all our mental energy thinking and all our physical energy chasing, even though it exhausts us to the core. And sometimes we slap our tails on the water, despite how energetically expensive, or perhaps because how energetically expensive it is, to show the riches and power we can offer. And who can’t relate—it’s better to have loved and lost some blubber, than never to have loved at all.

The whole reason humpbacks come to the nutrient-poor waters surrounding Hawaiÿi is the safe tropical haven these waters provide for birthing, calving, and mating. So it would seem to make some sense that these displays are a form of communication related to their domestic agenda. The tail slap is a visceral feeling reverberating through the water column, as any who have seen and felt it intuitively understand. When a humpback lobtails, you stare in silent awe and maybe that’s the point.

And yet this magnificent display is just one of many behaviors humpbacks employ regularly around each other. One of their most inquisitive behaviors is spyhopping. Humpbacks will lift just their massive heads out of the water and peak around. Bobbing upright in the water, they kick their flukes to hold themselves in position, giving the appearance of floating vertically. I’ve had many curious whales swim up and spyhop right next to me. Amazingly, they have looked me straight in the eye. Their large brown kidney shaped pupils darting up and down me. I naturally felt a social connection, to what appeared to be another sentient being just checking me out, processing, thinking, it naturally compelled me to say “Hey,” as if not doing so was somehow rude.

It’s clear whales have a lot to say through vocal and body language. What they are saying remains less clear, but also less mysterious the more we study and the more we allow space for them to swim alongside us. There is no doubting the great powers they posses as gravity-defying aerial acrobats, masters of great ocean passages, and lobtailing maestros. Yet looking at a humpback, eye-to-eye, one can’t ignore the greater mana (spiritual power) that transcends science and species. In the presence of humpbacks, I’ve seen even the most seasoned scientists and the most intellectual researchers drop what they are doing and return, ever so briefly, to the wide-eyed kids that once gazed out and saw nothing but wonder in the world.

I hope you experience the wonder and magic that can be heard and seen out on the ocean. And I hope it sparks that innate curiosity that whales and humans both possess. Years of scientific study tell me we need whales as much as whales need us. We both share a vital role and dependence on the movement of nutrients and resources flowing between our ecosystems and within our warm blood, without which neither of our cultures, communities, and lives can exist. Years of spending time listening, watching, and advocating for whales has taught me the magic of realizing we are perhaps not the only curious and, dare I say, conscious creatures that call this blue planet home. Boom! Splash! Boom! Splash! Boom! Splash! Like the beat of our hearts, it’s the pulse of a planet alive and well—it’s the sound of our future we must protect. We got here together borne of a shared past, how could it be that we could move forward apart? So listen to the whales, listen to yourself, and keep the beat going.