Big Fish

After our marvelous hike, we stopped in the town of Seaside and ordered some mouth-watering brisket and pints of beer. Our server asked what we were doing the rest of the day. It was getting dark, and we were tired. We had actually planned to simply go home, but he reminded us of the beached whales.

On January 14, a 40-foot Sperm Whale (named after the waxy spermaceti in its head) washed ashore about 50 miles from my house. It generated a lot of discussion because, while Gray Whales wash ashore now and then, a Sperm Whale is rare. This one, sadly, appears to have been struck by a propeller and then died from internal wounds. The most amusing part of the discussion was the question of whether this one would be blown up, like another beached whale that was exploded with dynamite in 1970. Oregonians will never forget that crazy story, when chunks of flying blubber hit onlookers and damaged nearby vehicles.

January 18, a 12-foot baby Gray Whale washed up just 100 yards north of the first one. This does not appear to have died from any human interaction, thank goodness.

Our server told us that a THIRD whale had been found on a beach. This one far south of us, near Reedsport, Oregon. We had not heard about the third one. In any event, the first two were just north at Ft. Stevens State Park (another site of abandoned WWII bunkers and a massive gun mount, if you recall our discovery in the last post.) I didn’t recall seeing a beached whale in my life, so we made plans right there to go to Ft. Stevens before going home.

{Researching for this post, I see that a FOURTH beached whale has appeared on Oregon’s shores. This one at Cannon Beach has been floating and dead for a month and was attacked by a shark. Answering the concerns of many, National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration (my former employer, NOAA) scientists and the Seaside Aquarium scientists have made statements that it is only coincidence that these whales are being found on the beach at the same time. A suggestion was made that with the exceptionally strong storms in the area recently, it could be that floating whales are being pushed ashore more than is typical.}

{Speaking of those storms, there was so much rain and wind that in December half a hillside crashed down onto Highway 30 just west of where I live. The highway was completely closed for three days and then only open to one-way traffic for a month, while equipment cleared a path. Each time they bulldozed some rocks from the bottom, more spilled down from the unstable hillside. When I heard about the road closure back in December, I dropped all thoughts to head to the coast and had forgotten all about it, assuming it had been fixed long ago. When Pedro and I made this trip, we had no idea at the time that the road had only been fully open for two days!}

After eating brisket until we were stuffed to the gills, we drove north on Highway 101 and I worried about the quickly fading daylight. Neither of us really had any idea where the whales were. I had heard on the news that the first one was “near” the wreck of the Peter Iredale. (I’ve got some great shots of that wreck in an old blog post.) I had also heard that the second whale was “near” the first one. But when you’re on foot, on the beach, how close is “near?” I knew which parking lot I wanted, and our plan was to go out onto the beach and look for something whale-shaped. That would only work if it was still light enough to see.

Ft. Stevens is an enormous park and I wasn’t exactly sure which parking lot was the correct one for where we wanted to be, but I got lucky and went directly to it. The place was surprisingly crowded for January, but it was Sunday, so maybe that explains it. Happily, I could see from the parking lot that not only would there be enough light for another 10-15 minutes to look for a whale, but there was also shaping up to be a stunning sunset. Five steps away from the Jeep we spotted the whale.

We walked directly to the whale. It was smaller than I was expecting, for a 20-year-old Sperm Whale, but I think I was relying too much on my childhood whale fantasies. It was a magnificent beast.

As we grew close, and circled the giant sea mammal, we smelled its rotting flesh. It was not too bad. My guess is that the smell will get worse in the future.

It was growing darker, which our cameras don’t really reflect because they were making good use of the available light. It was also quite cold. We did not linger beside the whale. I think there was probably much more to see and discover if I had spent more time there, but we began looking for the other whale. I noted above that the baby whale was 100 feet north of this one – just on the other side of the shipwreck apparently. But at the time we did not know that, and looked around in vain, seeking another cluster of people with cameras. We saw none. Today I am disappointed to discover how close the other whale was, if only we had persisted a little longer.

Before we returned to the car, we could not resist some sunset shots.

It was simply too cold to linger. We turned for one last look at the whale as we headed back to the parking lot.

After NOAA completed their necropsy, the whale was moved away from the water and left on the shore for natural and educational purposes. It will be allowed to decompose in this spot.

Just before we climbed into the Jeep, I saw a man crouched beside a large mud puddle in the parking lot. I circled around behind him to see what he saw and it was amazing! I got so excited that when he was done, and walked away, I swooped in to copy his photo idea.

I hollered at Pedro to go over to the other side of the mud puddle, and he obliged. Look at what we created:

Back in the warm car, Pedro again reminded me that I had never seen his favourite beach out here. It’s at the very end of the jetty, where it curls back around and faces the Columbia River instead of the ocean. Well, we were there, and there was probably at least five minutes of light left in the sky, so I said, “Let’s go!” and we got back on the road.

I am so glad for his suggestion. We walked a long boardwalk to the “wildlife viewing area,” and came out on a beach where we met a woman just leaving. She said she had seen a herd of elk walking nearby, but was no longer able to spot them. We thanked her for the tip and walked to the beach.

We never did spot the elk. The tide was out and we were mesmerized by the myriad carnival colours in the sky reflecting everywhere.