Mixing business with a spot of leisure is something many of us have routinely done on work trips. From indulging in lavish beach time to celebrating a closed deal, to a quiet walk in the woods after an exhausting conference, or a weekend of resort-style R&R to round off a field visit — the options are endless.
But have you ever marked the end of a work tour with a thrilling swim in the open ocean, in the company of gigantic humpback whales? If your answer is ‘no’, chances are you haven’t been to Tonga yet.
Arguably one of the most mind-blowing animal encounters in the wild, humpback snorkelling safaris take place as a heavily regulated tourism experience in Tongan waters between July and October every year. Through these months of southern winter, a substantial population of humpback whales migrate from their native waters in the Antarctic to warmer climes in the tropics.
The clement waters around Tonga have traditionally been a favourite seasonal sanctuary for these giant cetaceans. Migrating north for several thousand kilometres, the whales begin to arrive in Tonga around the end of June. For the next four months, they mate, birth and raise their young in these waters, before heading back to the nutrient-rich waters of the Antarctic at the start of the southern summer.
To afford visitors an unparalleled (albeit strictly controlled) chance to interact with one of the ocean’s most intelligent, sentient, and massive creatures, Tongan authorities allow a limited number of boats run by licensed operators to venture out to sea during what has come to be known as the Tongan whale watching season.
To safeguard the overall well-being of the beasts (and humans), and to ensure that tours are conducted in a respectful and responsible manner, the government places value over volume, which translates into a short supply of daily seats as well as a steep price tag. But if you manage to grab a spot on a boat — as I did during a visit to Tonga earlier this year — here’s how the best Saturday of your life might end up unfolding.
As if to compound the drama associated with the experience, our boat trip out of Nuku’alofa that day had begun on a damp note. The weather was hardly perfect; the sun had taken the day off without notice, and a chilly 15-knot wind relentlessly kicked up four-foot waves, leaving us cold and sullen as we spent nearly two hours bobbing on the choppy sea looking for signs of cetacean presence: the fountain spray of a blow, the Y-shaped fluke of a tail, maybe even the slap of a pectoral fin as a whale came up for air. There was absolutely nothing.
Then suddenly, as we were half-contemplating beating an early retreat to the pier, we spotted in the distance what seemed like a pod of whales creating a flurry in the water. As the boat revved up its engine and gradually changed course towards the creatures, our state of mind flipped from near dejection to utter excitement in a matter of seconds. It was game on.
Ten minutes later, kitted up in our wetsuits, masks, snorkels and fins, we plunged off the boat into the (numbingly cold!) water to find ourselves in front-row seats of a pageantry show known in marine biological circles as a heat run. Three adult male humpbacks, each the size of a city bus, were belly flopping on the water surface and putting on a show to woo a solitary female whale, who periodically swam up from the bottomless blue below us to take a quick look at her suitors, before diving back into the abyss.
Despite being engaged in their courtship ritual, the whales were instantly cognisant of our presence and seemed to temper down their own movements so as not to harm us in any way. Soon, a connect between two intelligent species was established. As we floated close to each other in the rough water, the whales occasionally circled in to take a closer look at us, often mimicking the body movements of our snorkelling guides in a friendly gesture. Duck dives, somersaults, a wave of hand, everything we did was mirrored by the giants as they played with us with juvenile glee.
After about 20 minutes of getting to know each other, we decided to move away from the whales. Another tour boat was patiently waiting its turn in the distance, its guests due for a swim with the pod once we had finished. Heaving ourselves back aboard our boat, we slowly pulled away from the whales and headed back to shore, the enthralling experience of being in such proximity to one of world’s largest animals etched in our minds for posterity.
Trip Essentials
The best whale sightings often take place around Vava’u, an island in northern Tonga. But the northern bay of Tongatapu is more convenient to access from the capital Nuku’alofa. Whale safaris are not conducted on Sundays, when all of Tonga shuts for business. Among registered operators, the family-run outfit Deep Blue is based on Nuku’alofa’s waterfront and conducts excellent whale watching tours.
