Whale Watch

We spent a day in heaven. Sun. Sparkling, calm ocean. Happy people -- and just enough of them. And whales, whales, whales, dolphins, dolphins, dolphins, and then many more whales.

I was taking pictures with my old Samsung phone, fine for static shots but too slow a shutter even to try the cavorting mammals. Here are some of my observations, intermixed with action shots by Roy.

Port side, heading out toward Stellwagen
Bank National Marine Sanctuary

On the lookout from the prow.

A whale blows out a big breath ...
the first hint that our big neighbors
were feeding nearby.

We close in on the spouter, who is diving for lunch.
Intake has to add up each day to 3,000+ pounds
of seafood to build up enough blubber to live off
all winter in the relatively sterile Caribbean breeding ground.

Soon we were surrounded by a pod of North Atlantic dolphins,
who can turn on a dime, in play or in pursuit of food.

The 7 Seas crew helped us spot our prey.
Not pictured is the marine biologist
who abundantly narrated the trip.
The fishing boat dogged our trail, seeming
more interested in watching whales than in
catching their own supper.

This hunting pair showed us their famous tail slaps which leave a circle of pressurized water on the surface, formerly thought to be an oil slick. We didn't see much playful behavior, the sort depicted on insurance commercials, but plenty of diving as they went about the serious business of survival.

Roy befriending visitors from Hackney,
London, just a couple of miles from Roy's birthplace.

Two mothers and their calves (one not pictured here) cavorted beside the boat for several breathtaking minutes. Were they showing off their children, or showing their children the strange oohing and aahing creatures in the boat? Often the green shadow of the white belly was our marker for tracking a whale.

You are right, those are barnacles decorating this whale's tail, like earrings.

And here are the land-based Barnacles, "having a great day."

Our Queen of Roses

Among the best combinations the world offers, if one marries an Englishman, one marries a gardener. I did.

Roy's supreme success to date, during our less than two years of marriage, is his Queen Elizabeth rose, planted in this the year of the original's diamond jubilee.

Here are the first two blooms, surpassingly
beautiful and perfectly pink.

As is his custom, Roy picked his best to bring
in the house.  It stayed alert a long time.

There have been other beauties, such as
the rununculus on our deck last summer.

And Roy's old-fashioned, deep pink roses
that, with encouragement, bloom all summer.
Note the blueberry pancakes made with
wild Maine berries.

Modification

Southwest Airlines, mildly castigated in my last post, deserves a pat on the back today.

Grandchildren Kaleigh and Gavin flew home Thursday, and every accommodation was made to reassure them and us watchful relatives. It was the children's first travel on their own. We are grateful for the smooth, professional treatment by all personnel. But please, Southwest execs, rethink your new policy of shortening the legroom in the cabins -- and retool your planes for passenger comfort. Please charge more, if you must, for good service, rather than maintain static pricing for deteriorating service.  Thanks for listening.

Leg Room Apology

I apologize to all the people who sat behind me on the early morning JetBlue flight to Chicago last June 24.

My fellow travelers, I did not know that when I spent an extra $20 for the privilege of sitting in an extra legroom seat that it was at your expense.


I learned in a front-page article in The Boston Globe yesterday, August 20, that Southwest Airlines and JetBlue have begun compromising the one remaining element of passenger comfort of which they have been the last sole providers -- adequate legroom. Instead of removing a row or two to create the extra legroom seating, the airlines are now simply condensing the legroom in all the rows behind the privileged few.


We are being crowded in like mama pigs in a factory farm, like sailors in submarine berths, like residents in the Hong Kong stacked-shoebox housing.

Not to mention that for a long time, airline seats have also been crowded sideways. Who gets to use the arm rests? It's either the passenger in seat A or the one in seat B -- they can't both. With everything else going on that merits protest, will we travelers be able to bend airline policy back in the direction of customer service, comfort, and safety?  I ask you.