Wow, it’s been a while. I even lost one subscriber on substack over the last two months, which makes me sad in a way that feels far too big for what it is.
One person who probably doesn’t even have an email account anymore, right? Or maybe died (who unsubscribes then?) but for sure it can’t be someone who simply doesn’t want to read my letters anymore, right?

I’m not sure if I prepared you, my inside world friends, for my disappearance, but probably not. Maybe I was delusional enough to think I would keep up with writing while traveling. Well, I obviously did not.
But now I’m back, and I have so many things and thoughts I want to share. I really have to make sure not to overdo it now. Just start with the first step.

I went swimming with humpback whales. That’s the short version.
I was in the water for four days (occasionally getting out to eat and sleep), and it was the best experience of my life.

I’ve always dreamed of being in the water with whales. Always.
As a child, I listened to a CD of whale songs and had whale posters on my bedroom wall, which I ironed from time to time to keep them smooth and wrinkle-free (such an autistic foreshadowing).

My love for them never went away. All my recent travels involved whales, but getting closer was a lifelong dream. And now it happened. It was as beautiful as I hoped it would be.

For my taste, I would have loved to be alone with the whales, just hanging out for a few hours, but we had small groups and really nice people (yes, they do exist, faith in humanity briefly restored).
And maybe the whales would have been more creeped out by one person following them around for hours anyway.

Listen closely for whale songs.

There was one moment I will never forget.
A mother whale was resting in the blue, her calf playing above her. I stayed still, floating. At some point she opened one eye and looked at me, really looked. It wasn’t dramatic. No mystical music, no tears. Just a calm, steady gaze that lasted longer than it should have.

People sometimes ask what it did to me. Honestly, I don’t know. A lot, and nothing at all.
It didn’t change who I am, but it added something quiet to my understanding of what it means to see another being.

And I keep thinking about this: why should the moment give me something, when it doesn’t give anything to the animal?
She doesn’t benefit from my awe. If anything, my being there could have distracted or even annoyed her. That thought stays with me. It doesn’t ruin the experience, but it shifts it.
It reminds me that the best we can do is try to meet such moments with respect, not hunger.

I went to the Kingdom of Tonga because it’s one of the few places in the world where it’s allowed to swim with whales but also the most regulated.
I didn’t want an experience where forty people jump from different boats into the water and stress out the animals (yes, this happens, and more and more over the past years).

People often go photo-hunting, not really caring about the animals’ wellbeing. When money comes into play, greed grows.
And who suffers in the end is the very animal we so desperately wanted to see.

In Tonga, you have different options for whale swimming, and even there you can choose the wrong operator. In Vava’u, there are many operators with several boats each, which can make the water quite busy.
Boats sometimes piggyback on each other and while regulations say you can spend 90 minutes with a whale before leaving it alone, another boat might show up right after and start another 90 minutes.

Studies in Vava’u showed that this changes the behaviour between mother and calf, which means more swimming, less feeding. That can be a death sentence for the calf.
If it’s not strong enough, it won’t survive the long journey to their feeding grounds in Antarctica. The mothers don’t eat for months while they’re in Tonga, so every bit of energy spent avoiding tourists is energy lost.

That’s why it’s so important that, if we visit animals in their habitats, we do it with as much respect as possible.

After research, we chose Sandy Beach Resort on Ha’apai, an island with very few operators and only four boats.
Only four people and one guide are allowed in the water at the same time. Two years ago, they also banned freediving because they noticed that duck dives stressed the whales.
(That one hurt, since I learned freediving for this trip. but whatever is best for the whales, goes.)

It’s beautiful there. The small houses, fales, are simple but comfortable, and everything feels peaceful, given that there isn’t much beyond the resort.
What I really underestimated was that Tonga is a developing country. When people barely have enough for themselves, there aren’t resources to care for animals.

Every animal roams freely, which is mostly fine, but the dogs were different.
Many were skinny or sick, and people don’t really see them as we do. They’re there for pest control and sometimes even, for eating. That was hard to see.

The whales are basically the only reason people come to Tonga, so it’s complicated.
Keeping it small and regulated protects the whales, but limits economic growth. And it’s not like they have many alternatives.
They don’t even have a vet on the island. Sometimes one visits every few months, but people rarely take their dogs there because they’re not considered valuable enough.
Then again, there’s often not even a doctor at the hospital, so it’s hard to complain about the lack of dog care.

Ha’apai and ‘Eua are the two best options if you want to swim with whales respectfully.
Both are small, quiet, and well-regulated, no cowboy behaviour in the water.

If you go, please take time to research your operator.
Look for ones that limit people in the water, follow the 90-minute rule, and avoid aggressive pursuit of the animals.
The ocean is big enough for us to stay humble in it.