Coffs Harbour - whales

It's been a memorable day. One that we will never forget. A lifelong ambition was crossed off the list.

We crossed the border into New South Wales a few days ago, after two months in Queensland. The pubs changed from yellow-and-red “XXXX” (because they can’t spell “beer”?) to Tooheys as the Bruce Highway changed into the Pacific Highway, but the spectacular coastline continued as we drove south. A couple of days in Kingscliff allowed us to explore “the Twin Towns” of Coolangatta and Tweed heads, with the border running down the main street. We heard strange tales of the local drinkers enjoying “Happy Hour” on one side of the street, then crossing over the road, and the border, for the next Happy Hour” thanks to Queensland’s refusal to adopt Daylight Saving. Then a short stay in Ballina enabled us to explore Lennox Head, Byron Bay and Brunswick Head. We stood on the headland at Ballina watching whales out to sea, but that was only a taste of what was to come.

Beautiful Byron Bay

Next was Coffs Harbour, and we stayed a short distance up the coast at Emerald Beach. Again we could see whales from the shoreline, slowly making their way north to warmer waters off Queensland to have their babies, before migrating back to Antarctic waters later in the year. We heard a news item declaring that whale numbers have been increasing each year, with an estimated 30,000 migrating whales this year between June and September off the Australian east coast. No wonder they call it the “Humpback Highway”. A few days ago there was a whale count off Port Macquarie, and the expected number was 200 – they counted 352. This is of course fantastic news since their population fell by 90% before the 1966 moratorium. The temptation was too great – we booked ourselves on a whale-watching cruise for early the next morning.

After leaving the harbour, it didn’t take long for us to see the distinctive jet of water not far off the starboard bow, and we unobtrusively followed. This was a pair of humpbacks, every so often coming to the surface to breath, blow their spout and submerge again. We could easily see the hump on its back, as well as several barnacles, and occasionally we’d see the gigantic tail as it slid beneath the waves. Then, unexpectedly, one of them breached.  

Longer than our car and caravan, weighing over 20 tonne ... and only ten metres from us.

This massive creature launched itself entirely out of the water, did a half-turn and landed on its back to create the biggest splash we had ever seen. We could feel the tremor in the water, we could even feel the sound of the biggest belly flop you could imagine. It was no more than ten metres away. The sight made us gasp, and yell, and just stare in wonder. It then breached again. And again, as if it was performing for us. They did tail smacks, and head lunges, and generally frolicked about.  

A tail slap to say goodbye.

We casually followed this pair for an hour, and when the time came to head back, we said farewell to our cetaceous friends and thanked them for the show. They were the largest animals we had ever experienced, so gracious in their size and magnificence. They are at the top of the food chain, with their only predator being sharks that attack sick infants. Oh, and the Japanese. How could you kill such a beautiful animal?