This morning I woke to a fine mist settled in nicely over a lethargic sea. Thousands of birds fly low or bob over the water, gannets, gulls and cormorants have stopped their childish bickering and are enjoying the sunrise, waiting for some respite from the nights chill.
Today the inky sea cloaks the life beneath from searching eyes. Nothing to see but flocks of birds and undulating water.
This is in stark contrast to Sunday 10th February 2013. Woken by frantic whoops my bleary eyes adjusted to a boiling sea. Thousand of dolphins were careening through the bay. There was clearly panic in the ranks and the reason became apparent soon enough. Five gargantuan backs, black with some white could be seen approaching the dolphins steadily, confidently, menacingly. Killer Whales, more commonly sighted in False bay, apex predators who enjoy nothing much more than chasing schools of dolphins down to near death exhaustion and feasting on their athletic cousins.
This was a tragedy unfolding in front of me. I wont lie I was awed by this spectacle but I wanted the dolphins to win the race, to just once outsmart the Orca, get away unscathed. The mass of sea mammals turned away from our rugged coast and headed towards Hermanus. I lost sight of the Orca here and imagined that perhaps this time the dolphins had won. That Walker Bay was a safer haven for these intelligent beasts than False Bay?
The dolphins have returned many times since. Desecrating bait balls and whooping it up in the surf, the Killer Whales have remained scarce. There have been sightings of Brydes Whales, the little guys in the groups of whales that frequent our bay, playful and magnificent. But nothing yet of the mighty Southern Right Whales we have become famous for. I’m counting the days until their return, to play in our garden, raise their young and bewitch thousands of travellers who line our shores to marvel at them.
My eyes remain focused on the bay.