Close calls happen at sea. Skippers of fast boats learn to constantly scan the water ahead and around the boat and remain poised for fast action to fully utilize the high maneuverability of small fast craft.
I recall a close call during a charter that drove the point home.
What a day on the channel!
We cruised across the Santa Barbara Channel in the morning on somewhat bumpy seas which were settling down from a wind shift during the night, spotting a couple of whales along the way. Hundreds of dolphins swam in to play off our bow and stern wakes.
Speaking of high speed, our common dolphin have absolutely no problem catching up with a boat traveling at 25 knots (note, a knot is 1.16 statute mile, so that’s roughly 29 mph).
Our common dolphins are fast!
Flat and calm water greeted us at the entrance to Painted Cave, the world’s longest sea cave. We ventured deep inside the cave to admire the colorful rocks and listen to the raucous sea lions.
After nearly wearing out every camera onboard, trying to take the perfect picture of a spiritual place (which can’t really be done because you have to experience spirituality), we came back out and cruised along the stunning cliffs to the west end of the island. It truly is gorgeous.
We spent several enjoyable hours catching fish on light tackle. After filleting our freshly-caught fish and putting the filets on ice, we turned the boat to a course for home port — Santa Barbara.
Just on the northern edge of the shipping lanes, we spotted a pod of six or seven humpback whales. They appeared to be foraging over a wide area and having great success.
I watched the pod closely before we reached them and as we cruised through. I saw each one surface repeatedly and thought I knew the position of each critter, all well away from our boat by a couple of hundred yards.
Well, one, which must have been on an extremely prolonged dive, gave us a surprise and a start as it surfaced right in front of our boat. I have never known one to hold its breath that long.
I was watchful, poised and ready for a surprise, so I was able to throttle back (we call it, “slamming on the sea brakes”), and spin the helm to avoid the critter. That big whale realized the boat was there at the same instant and quickly sounded in a perfectly complimentary corkscrew move.
That critter and I worked together very well. Upon reflection, we were never less than 20 yards apart, but when a critter that huge comes right up out of the water that close, it seems like you can reach out and touch it.
After a rousing cheer for the critter — which went right on about its business of foraging — we started off again, slower and ever more diligent.
