As we sat there, waiting for everyone else to board, the pride we felt at having staked out such an envious claim was only slightly marred but the realization we were with, without a doubt, the worst whale watching outfit in the harbor. Everywhere we turned there were beautiful boats filling up with people positively giddy with excitement. Some were decked out in bright orange jumpers, piling into an ultra-fast zodiac, while others took their places and sipped beverages on more spacious yachts with enormous viewing decks and energetic tour guides fanning the flames of anticipation.
Our boat had more an air of, "Crap. Here we go again." It was a mood that only soured further when the captain annouced where the whales had been spotted... near Bellingham. Essentially, this meant, in order to stay within the time constraints of the tour, we might make it to the whales and, if we did, we'd have only a couple minutes to see them before being forced to return.
Great.
To prevent you from feeling as miserable as we did, I'll cut to the chase now... It was absolutely freezing on that upper deck and the time just dragged by. When we finally arrived at the whales, it was obvious that all the other tour boats had been there for quite some time. We, on the other hand, had to turn around almost immediately to head back. We never got closer than about 500 feet to the whales, which was a far cry from the 5 foot proximity of last year. I tried to take photos, but quickly gave up in frustration as all I could get were blurry little black dots on the water. This is the best of the batch, and was only possible thanks to a 10x zoom:
Needless to say, the rest of the way back to Bellingham was grueling, many of our plans for the rest of our holiday were dashed, and our money for the whale watching tour was fully refunded.
Now, whenever I have a brilliant idea that my girlfriend doesn't like, all she has to do is look me in the eye and say one word.
Bellingham.
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