The beach named Mermejita is probably just shy of a mile in length. It makes for a nice walk and because it is unprotected from the blazing hot sun seeing another human is unusual. At the far end is a crude and small house made of stone with a palapa roof. It is tucked into the side of a hill. Surrounded by scrub and trees it’s hard to get close. It looks unlived in but once a couple of years ago I came down on it from the hill above and I saw an elderly Mexican man with a wide brimmed hat sweeping the yard with a crude long handled broom made of a stick and bundled tree branches.
There was no snooping around on this day and just as I started the return journey a humpback whale breached. As I walked the whale was off my right shoulder. If my arm were 200 yards long I could have reached out and touched it without creating any angle. For the moment we were moving in parallel. It surfaced again, dove and was gone.
This seemed to present itself as an opportunity for layman research. The average speed of an ambulating human being is 2-3 mph. I knew that if I kept my eyes peeled on the ocean there was a possibility that I could see the same whale breach again, determine its position relative to me and roughly calculate his/her speed.
Normally staying focused for long periods of time is not something I find easy but the ocean has a way of changing that. The angle of a beach has to be dealt with but sand is for the most part predictable and forgiving and looking out at the Pacific while walking is an easy proposition and the visual possibilities a million fold.
Most of the time when a whale dives it stays down for a while and travels. I knew I would be lucky to see it again but 20 minutes later it reappeared. It breached and was only slightly ahead of me, still pretty much off my right shoulder. I did the calculations and was feeling very self satisfied until the best realization emerged. I had just taken a walk with a whale.