Travel Biography - Week 116.

The 1998 visit to the eastern United States couldn't have been more contrasting. On the one hand, I was walking along Broadway through the bustling city of Manhattan. On the other hand, I was on board a boat out at sea, whale-watching over an area of Stellwagen Bank in the Atlantic Ocean, an underwater plateau on the continental shelf around 25-30 miles, or 40-48 km off the Boston coastline.

The Aquarium Visit.

And so, on the morning of another day with fine weather, I decided to visit the New England Aquarium, hoping to revive memories of the Great Barrier Reef. I arrived at the ticket kiosk, which in 1998, was outside the doors of the indoor facility. There was for sale a choice of either a ticket for the aquarium only, a ticket for the whale-watching cruise, or a combined ticket for both, as the cruise leaves the harbour during the afternoon. That morning, I bought the combination ticket.

Unfortunately, I didn't take any inspiring photos of the exhibits, as the whole facility looked tired at the time. (I believe the facility had a series of revamps since then.) Therefore, I have included some stock photos of both the exterior and the interior details of the aquarium. These pics are recent, indicating that they were taken after the revamp, and may not be exactly as I saw them in 1998.

New England Aquarium, Boston. Stock photo.

The main Tank, Stock photo.

Sea Life. Stock photo.

Sea Life. Stock photo.

The building rests on one of the piers of the Boston Wharf and houses marine life mainly from the Atlantic. Therefore, I was somewhat disappointed not to see any real coral cultivated, but what appeared at the time to be tired artificial replicas (although a real coral reef from the Caribbean now thrives in one of the larger tanks). Yet, marine life often associated with coral seemed to be thriving. The tropical aquarium at the time didn't hold a candle to the Great Barrier Reef Aquarium in Townsville, in the Australian State of Queensland, where I visited just a year earlier.

However, in other tanks, big fish such as the reef shark and the grouper swam around as they showed off to the viewing public, along with jellyfish, sea horses, moray eel, turtles and so on. In all, despite my own prejudice in favour of coral reefs, I still grade the Aquarium as excellent and worth the time and money. Given a choice between a zoo and an aquarium, I would always choose to visit an aquarium.

Whale-Watching.

I spent two to three hours in the aquarium before having lunch and preparing to board a boat for Stellwagen Bank.

The cruiser was moored on the same pier as the Aquarium, as the cruise was organised by the Aquarium. These trips were seasonal, lasting from May to October, thus during midseason, we should get some results. The remaining photos shown here are my own.

Stellwagen Bank, a submerged plateau, is a National Marine Sanctuary. That means commercial fishing in the area is banned. The surface of the plateau is between 30-40 metres below sea level and rises from the surrounding sea floor between 90 metres to the west of the plateau, and up to 200 metres to the east. It could be classed as a squat, flat-topped seamount, with its north/south length of 19 miles, and up to six miles from east to west (31x10 km.) The water above it is rich in plankton, and this is the main source of nutrition for the humpback whales, as well as being at the base of the food chain. A pod is said to be inhabiting the area during the time I was there.

The plateau is also rich with other marine life, including bass, tuna, cod, hake, and flounder. The great white shark also makes a call in the area, along with sperm whales, blue whales, orcas, and various dolphins and seals. But the most prominent is the humpback whales.

The boat leaves Boston for Stellwagen Bank.

A Tailfin of a Humpback Whale.

On a Whale-Watch.

The Whales are getting closer to us.

The boat pulled out from its moorings and set sail onto the open sea, again passing the islands making up the Boston Islands National Park. As the boat cruised along the calm sea, as before, the city skyline receded towards the horizon and vanished. Sometime later, we seemed to be in the middle of nowhere, except surrounded by a calm ocean, the boat drew to a halt, and we all leaned on the parapet and waited.

In next to no time, the upper backs of humpback whales momentarily appeared above the surface and dived back under. Although I hadn't seen anyone attempting to take photographs, I didn't hesitate in my attempt. With a fresh film in my camera, I had up to 36 tries. As expected, attempting to take snapshots of fast-moving creatures which appear only momentarily and at an unpredictable spot was tricky. It was rather like the Whack-a-Mole table at a fun fair. Of the 36 tries, only six or seven came out well enough for album retention. But that is the world of photography. I have seen professional photographers at work, especially at weddings, and I have wondered how many snapshots make it to the wedding album from the multitude that are discarded.

We didn't just remain stationary in the sea for five minutes, but for a good while, possibly an hour. As the evening was beginning to draw in, the announcement came for the return to the city and the cruiser set sail westbound while the sun was preparing to set ahead. After the boat eventually docked at the pier where the Aquarium was built, the thought of preparing dinner back at the hostel was so welcoming.

To Conclude.

It was difficult to decide which of the two cities I had any preference for. New York or Boston. Each is simply different and each has its positives. Yet, it was in Boston where I learned more about the American history of Independence from British colonial rule, which must have been heavy-handed, hence the Boston Tea Party, and the Revolution the Party had initiated, which would eventually lead to having its first president, George Washington. Coming to think of it, my preference might have been for Boston. It's a smaller city than Manhattan, more sedate and generally its streets safer. And it offered more history as well as the aquarium and even a trip out to sea for a spell of whale-watching. With the latter, this activity takes place in the whale's natural environment as opposed to the rigid confinement characteristic of SeaWorld in San Diego, and other similar theme parks and zoos.

In all, 1998 was a great trip, yet the primary reason why I took off for New York in the first place was to avoid the FIFA World Cup Final should England be playing in it. It didn't. Instead, it was knocked out in the Quarter-Finals. But by then, it was too late. The flight and hostel reservation were both booked and the air ticket was already paid for. It was while I was in New York that I found out that the Final was won by France after defeating Brazil, and I felt relief that the trophy never crossed the Channel.

Yet, the holiday was far more than trying to escape from the football mania. It was a learning curve, not only about the history of America, but a window into my soul as well. The meeting with Sarah while on the return ferry to Boston from Cape Cod has shone a light on what has been concealed for the previous four years - the deep loneliness felt as a singleton approaching middle age, along with an anticipation of the future if I remain unmarried into old age. Therefore, I tended to feel a lack of inclusion, especially when church culture is generally geared toward families, with marriage, the home, and children high up on the seminar agenda. It's little wonder that the highest percentage of dropouts from the Christian faith, I believe, are adult singles.

Hence, whether consciously or subconsciously, I resorted to world travel, which has given me some of the brightest times of my life, the spirit of adventure, to get out there and explore the far-flung corners of the world, especially to see natural wonders that don't occur in the UK, not to say that Britain is deprived of natural beauty. By the Autumn of 1998, I was set against marriage, and I was determined to remain single, so I could carry on with travel. Indeed, I have found a way to deal with lifelong loneliness. With another Round-the-World, including South Africa next on the agenda, I knew that I had to work hard, save up, and travel without getting myself into debt. I still had an ambition to visit Victoria Falls, but how to go about with that, I have to wait and see. That is where Trailfinders comes in.

Photographing whales was difficult.

They're getting closer!

It got as close as it gets.

The day arrived and I had to check out of the hostel by a certain time of the day. However, since my flight to London Gatwick was late in the evening, the hostel agreed to store my rucksack until I was ready to head for Logan Airport, which is quite near to the city.

Like all other times, this flight was to be an overnighter across the Atlantic. Logan Airport was easy to get to from the city. I took a short ride on the Boston subway, the Blue Line to the airport station. Once arrived, it was straightforward to check-in. Yet, as I waited at the departure lounge, little did I know that this would be the last transatlantic flight so far to this day. This was my fifth visit to the United States, and I have to be honest with myself: Travelling to the USA was already becoming stale. It was losing its magic, its novelty. In other words, I was getting fed up with it! If I were to set out on another Round-the-World trip like the one in 1997, I would be happy not to land in California from Australia or even New Zealand. Instead, to land in either South or Central America on my way back to London would have been ideal. 

Not unless I revisited the Grand Canyon. Another hike, this time down the South Kaibab Trail, a new trail for me and different vistas. Exciting enough to fill another photo album. Or in Australia, revisit the Great Barrier Reef. Like the Canyon, the Reef is a big place. I could visit another cay, or a fringe reef on another continental island. Or even have a shot at the Outer Reef. Or all three. It would take me a long time to tire of the Great Barrier Reef.

Yet, as the plane soared into the night sky, it never crossed my mind that this was my final long-haul flight ever, or at least so far. But then, what defines long-haul, and how is that distinct from short-haul? Although this was my last transatlantic flight, my travel days are far from over. The future from that point in time still held more for me.  For example, snorkelling was not over. There's still more to come. Only it would be different.

Sunset as we head back to town.

By the time the south coast of England appeared beneath me, it was already daylight, with the sky clear of clouds. As I sat by the window (as usual), I watched as the south coast of Cornwall, then Devon, followed by the Dorset Coastline. As we flew over Dorset, I recognised Swanage, the Old Harry Rocks, and Bournemouth, along with the Isle of Wight south of Hampshire, before the plane turned inland to descend towards Gatwick Airport.

Like at other times, when I arrived home, I was greeted by an empty apartment bathed in silence. However, this time, I didn't sink low with post-holiday blues, like I did after the end of the 1997 Round-the-World. Rather, I was relieved that the FIFA World Cup football tournament was over, and our TV channels, especially the BBC, had returned to the normal programme schedule.

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Next Week: What Happens Next?