Humpback Whale Festival

All of the interns and the boss piled into the rental van, crowded by all of our equipment to journey to Rincón’s Humpback Whale Festival.  Actually, the festival seemed more like a craft fair, as vendors had their artistic creations of jewelry, glass figures, food, and wooden pieces on display, although many did include the likeness of the humpback whale on or among their items. 

Our role was to educate the public on humpback whales and their importance to Puerto Rico, and to engage them in the research being conducted at the center.  In order to better demonstrate the work and to take advantage of being at one of the surveying locations, we set up the tracking equipment, including a theodolite and a pair of large, heavy, marine-worthy binoculars. 

Having not been as immersed in the research as the longer-term interns to effectively communicate with the public, I was able to focus my attention on learning and practicing field skills.  Using the naked eye and binoculars, two to three other interns and I scanned the sea for anything out of the ordinary that might indicate a humpback whale.  We were on the lookout for common behaviors, such as breaching out of the water, shooting water from a blowhole, slapping pectoral fins, slapping tail, or displaying fluke.  Having never seen any of these behaviors before, I was uncertain what to look for in this large oceanic expanse with several kilometers of visibility and little training; however, it’s one of those things that one recognizes when one sees it.

We continued in this way for several hours, with breaks of course, until a downpour replaced the beating hot sun, which drove us under cover and left many of our possessions soaked.  In spite of not having seen a humpback whale all day, this signaled the end of our time here, and we gradually sorted, dried, and packed our things for the return trip to the van.

Crystal Clear Caribbean Waters

We awoke early on Monday morning, packed up the car, and headed off for a half day trip to Steps Beach.  Our destination of Rincón, Puerto Rico was over an hour’s drive away, which provided me with the opportunity to view more of the island.  One major emphasis on the research project and the courses being conducted here is how everything is interconnected, which arose as a discussion during the car ride.  The boss and another intern explained to our two new students that the numerous mountain ranges on the island divide it into seven ecological zones, which, as a result, create vastly different climates, landscapes, and ocean current patterns, among other things.  This is what causes northern Puerto Rico to be like a rainforest, as it experiences downpours throughout much of year from trade winds off of the Atlantic Ocean.  Conversely, in Guayanilla, where the center is based, the mountains block out much of this rainfall, creating a dry climate and constant sunshine during the majority of the year.  Now, I had a picture to fill in the blanks of this ecology lesson, which I had also received.  I don’t believe that the mountains are quite as high as the snow-capped giants of the western United States, but they do look dramatic, rising up from this small island and towering over the villages far below.

Once again, I was excited to return to the ocean, which seemed to stretch on forever, uninhibited by land in its westward direction.  Palm trees and other tropical vegetation grew along the edges of the narrow beach, gently leaning towards the water.  Pelicans flew overhead in v-shaped flocks comprised of three individuals.  Occasionally, one would swoop down from the trees and glide along the water line until it was nearly skimming the surface, likely searching for its midday meal.  The beach itself is named for its rock formations below the water’s surface, which drop downwards in steps away from the shore, having been carved this way by the furious waves that pound the surf.  I was fascinated even by the few algae species and sea snails that I found atop the rocks left exposed by the receded tide, since they were quite unlike those that I had become familiar with in the colder northern ocean waters.

Unfortunately, the combination of not having had a proper ocean swim in years, the constant jostling by the crashing waves, and the panic over whether or not I could breath underwater, prevented me from receiving a full snorkeling lesson, and so I remained land bound.  This was only the beginning of my frustrations on that fateful day, about which I vented the other day.  I allowed the negativity to overtake me, so that I was no longer able to enjoy the beauty surrounding me and the freedom of being away from the confines of the house.  I took a couple of strolls along the beach, studying the shore life and getting splashed by incoming waves, for which I neglected to watch in the midst of my observations. 

Upon our departure from Steps Beach, we visited the food vendor’s compact trailer for a treat of empanadillas (fried meat pies) and pinchos (kabobs).  I’ve found it quite impressive how many Puerto Ricans understand and speak English in a province where the primary language is Spanish.  Even here, the boss had a lengthy conversation with one of the servers about whales in this non-native tongue, while we waited for our food.  We took our lunch to go, as we had a schedule to stick to, and traversed back through the mountains to our home in the south.