THE ALBATROSS

We had reached the southern end of our fishing trip and were headed home.  After a two month journey of close to 5,000 miles we had dropped anchor in Callao, Peru and spent a few days in nearby Lima.  After clearing customs, we pulled anchor, left the harbor and pointed our bow north just before darkness set in.  Our next stop would be Cabo Blanco, some 600 miles up the coast.

The next morning we were well off shore and heading directly into a head sea pushed by winds of some 30 knots.  Our 110 foot boat would rise as it rode over a wave, then dive into the next, throwing spray everywhere.  We had gotten used to such weather and everyone on board found a comfortable niche to ride it out.  Mine was in the all glass wheelhouse where I could observe the ocean in all its majesty. 

It was my turn on watch.  It was up to me to keep an eye on all the instruments, make sure we stayed on course and scan the horizon for other vessels.  As I looked behind us I saw this magnificent albatross some 200 yards back, in our wake.  He was effortlessly gliding over the waves, slowly crossing from side to side.  Even though they have the coloring of a sea gull there is no mistaking the albatross for anything but what it is.  A recent National Geographic magazine said this: “A parent albatross may fly more than 10,000 miles to deliver one meal to its chick.  Wielding the longest wings in nature-up to eleven and a half feet-albatrosses can glide hundreds of miles without flapping, crossing ocean basins, circumnavigating the glove.  A 50-year-old albatross has flown, at least, 3.7 million miles.”  

As the day wore on the bird trailed behind, keeping its distance, mostly inches from the water, occasionally swooping higher as if to take a look around then descending again to wave height.  As darkness fell he disappeared from sight. 

After breakfast the next morning I ascended to the wheelhouse, looked aft, and there he was, still trailing in our wake.  At lunch time I threw a few bits of food off the transom, followed them with my eyes until he picked them off with a mere dip of his head. 

As the afternoon wore on he gradually approached closer and closer.  All hands were now on deck watching as he finally rose above us and then, with a spread of his enormous wings, descended to land on the railing around the deck.  Seemingly pleased with himself he surveyed us as we stared in amazement. 

Not wanting to spook him, we carefully placed food at a safe distance. 

The next morning I could not wait to get to the wheelhouse and see if our passenger was still with us.  He was and the food was gone.  

  

As we approached Cabo Blanco and perhaps sensing we were nearing land, the great bird decided to leave.  Fortunately I was looking right at him when he slowly spread his wings, tilted them at an angle to catch the wind, and then gradually rose above us.  Once clear of our boat, he dipped his left wing, swooped down close to the surface of the water and was gone. 

The journey of some 400 mile with this creature is a very special memory.  If it is possible to have a bird as a soul mate, this one was mine.