“From Hell’s Heart I Stab at Thee”: Whale-Watching With Toddlers

Like many modern parents, I worry that my children’s lives are too easy. We live in a kids’ paradise here in San Diego, and if we ever had to move to someplace harsh and isolated like, say, San Francisco, they’d probably wither up like hothouse flowers.

That’s why, when the opportunity arose, I figured it would be a good time to take my two-and-a-half year old twin girls on a whale hunt. What could toughen them up more quickly than being involved in an epic battle with a leviathan on the high seas?

I was disappointed as we boarded the whaling ship to find that accommodations were not nearly as spartan as I had hoped. There were comfortable benches on the top deck, and cushy chairs and tables on the lower two. I had looked forward to a diet of salt-pork and rum during our voyage, but it seemed that corndogs and margaritas were the staples of the galley.

Nor were our fellow sailors the salty characters I had hoped would thicken the hides of my delicate children. Rather, they appeared to be mostly rank landlubbers, stumbling around the deck with their cameras and nachos, taking pictures of one another in decidedly un-seamanlike poses.

As we made our way out of the harbor, the captain explained his strategy for chasing down the whales. He sounded quite knowledgeable, but not nearly bloodthirsty enough for my taste. There was no talk of harpoons or vengeance, just migration patterns and mating habits.

But once we got out into the open water, it was clear that this was no pleasure cruise. The seas were angry that day, and most of the would-be whalers filled paper bags with their partially digested lunch. To my shame, my own children drenched their mother and me in vomit. But they recovered quickly, and became interested in the hunt.

I can’t quite explain what happened that afternoon, because, although we saw nine whales and scores of dolphins, sea lions, and other edible creatures of the deep, we came home with nothing in our hold.

Upon seeing the whales, I had gotten quite excited and yelled for my compatriots to DROP YOUR CAMERAS! TAKE UP YOUR HARPOONS! and LOWER THE ATTACK BOATS! The captain looked at me askance, and the other members of the mommy group that had arranged this trip suggested that I should settle down.

Even though we didn’t kill any whales, I feel like the girls learned a little something that day. Something about valuing the rough waters even when you come up empty handed. Holding fast to the rail when the sea-spray slashes at your face. Not letting vomit stand in the way of your dreams.