I woke up around 0530 partly because my travel alarm was making barely perceptible bleeps and whoots, and partly because my brain was tingling in anticipation. Richie followed, rousing when he heard me getting up, and asking what the meeting time was supposed to be. I reminded him that it was 0700, at the center, and went for some (instant) coffee to go with my heart-starting cigarette. On the deck, I admired how gorgeous a morning it was. The sun splashed into the mountain scenery as it crept above the flat blue line of the Pacific Ocean. Here, of course, morning light comes from the east, and was a new perspective for me, in addition to being a fantastic view. It was only 0630, so I felt a little bad about waking up the hostess just to turn sheets in and get my key deposit back, but we do what must be done, and I'm sure it wasn't her first time receiving early morning whale-watchers.

Standing on the edge of the Pacific, watching the sun creep further up, Richie and I traded stories and commentary, waiting to get inside. At 0700, the doors of Whale Watch were thrown in, and we headed in. I confirmed my reservation, and due to a cancellation, Richie lucked into a seat and was also able to make the early boat. With a half hour to burn, we hit the café for breakfast, and around 0730 gathered to watch a safety video. Immediately following, the tourist gaggle struggled en masse to board the bus for the jaunt down to the South Bay, where our sleek looking boat awaited us. Unhurried, I ended up at the back of the bus, and was one of the last ones off.

Thanks to a brilliant stroke of luck, my seat was located in the back of the boat, right next to the exit we'd be using for wildlife viewing today. As an added bonus, it was a much smoother ride in the back. Rex, our part Maori guide was telling us a little bit about the Sperm whales we'd be 'hunting', as we 'scouted' out our windows and the boat captain radioed circling helicopters for directional insight. Soon enough, the boat motor slowed, and we were advised to head for the upstairs deck or foredeck to view a Sperm whale on the surface.

I excitedly grabbed my camera and went shooting out the backdoor, and up to the front port side of the top deck. From there, my scouting eyes quickly found our target, a sperm whale spouting every 20-25 seconds or so. I took a lot of pictures, hoping at least some of them would turn out decently. [Though I later found this was not to be the case]

We stayed up there watching for the elusive tail shot, but in my excitement, I prematurely snapped the camera and missed the opportunity. Hopefully, this wouldn't be the only whale sighting of the day. After making sure no other whales were in the immediate area, we continued on, stopping to circle a couple of royal albatross on our way to the next whale. I happily snapped more pictures, feeling quite justified in using up an entire roll of film on the morning. I mean, we can't all be master photographers, right? Shortly, we came across sperm whale number two, and watched him for about five minutes. I was a little more patient this time, and managed to get a decent, yet hopelessly distant 'tail shot'.

As soon as he was under, we sped along to another whale pod radioed in by local fishermen doubling as spotters. As we bounded heavily through the water, Rex duly informed us what an above average day we were having. I suppose that was some relief, after spending the $110 NZ for the three-hour tour (Any Gilligan reference is unintentional. With 'Charge of the Light Brigade' pouring out of the ship's sound system, we circled the pod of whales before cutting engines and drifting in. This time, we were greeted by a visual double feature: two sperm whales (possibly one of them a child) had surfaced on our port side, and two others frolicked on the boat's right side. We watched all four of them with somber enjoyment until the last of them decided to be dive for the bottom to catch brunch.

On the way home, we were engrossed by a well-made video detailing the historical background of Kaikoura, the local oceanic geography, as well as the Sperm whale's near extinction and current plights. Sperm whales were so named by the early whalers that hunted them, upon slicing open this particular species' head, the whalers found a slick thick white sperm-like substance and mistakenly believed it was part of the whale's reproductive system. As we streamed along, the captain pointed out two transient Humpback whales in the distance off our port side, a rarity in the early spring apparently. There would be no closer view for us though, unless we wanted to skip a pod of Dusky dolphins swimming with the boat - and no one wanted to miss that. Rex explained a bit about the Humpbacks as well, namely their competition during breeding season, and the most recognizable aspect of the Humpbacks: their song. During the beginning of the breeding season, each male Humpback has created a unique song, and merrily sings it in hopes of finding a mate. The most fertile female will always choose the male with the best song - and once the males realize it's not them, they begin imitating the more popular males. By the end of the season, they are all singing the same (or at least very similar) songs.

As I was jotting down notes, the captain swung the boat sharply to starboard and cut the engines. The doors were flung open, and we all scrambled out onto the top deck and bow. Ten Dusky dolphins were acrobatically arcing through the water, swimming in circles, and generally amusing everyone, including themselves. I eagerly snapped several pictures of the playful mammals. The dolphins were putting on an amazing show though, and when the captain had to fire the engine up and head us home again, the Duskys delighted us by consistently jumping in front of the bow wake. Out they would fly just in front of the bow, then dive under and drift back or to the side letting the next dolphin would get a try.

The show was fantastic. Total wildlife count: 6 Sperms, 2 Humpbacks, 2 Royal Albatross and 10 or more Dusky dolphins. I don't know if you can put a price on it, but I felt vindicated, and besides, it's an excellent way to pass time in Kaikoura. After all, this was the original for-profit eco-touring industry of the town - it's how the town makes its money and stays in the public eye - yet it's not over-commercialized. The government severely limits local permits.

Back at the car, I wished Richie good travels and decided to try my luck with the seals again. As soon as I pulled up at Kean Point, I noticed a few people on the rocks at the base of the low tide area. They had cameras in hand, and were very interested in two blobs on the rocks in front of them. I cautiously hurried down to the same perch, and snapped a few photos of the sleepy looking fur seals, now having seen just about every living attraction that Kaikoura had to offer.