Whenever I think back on that encounter, I still feel a pleasant shiver run through me and a warm lump of excitement rise in my throat! It was the most unforgettable trip of my life, one that turned into a genuine sea adventure.
Setting off to chase a dream
That day I woke up very early, since our flight to Samana was set for 7:10 a.m. I opened my eyes just as it was barely getting light outside. It wasn’t clear what the weather would be like, so I decided to pack for anything. If you’re heading to the peninsula, it pays to be prepared, since Samana is the rainiest province in the whole Dominican Republic, and the odds of a tropical downpour are quite high. I packed a warm tracksuit, a hooded sweatshirt, a rain jacket, a towel, sunscreen, and a bottle of water.
We flew to Samana on a small plane from Punta Cana’s private airport, since the drive by bus would have taken more than two and a half hours. The flight was quick, dizzying in both the literal and figurative sense, and the views were breathtaking! Half an hour flew by, and soon we were crowded at the port, a team of 30 lucky travelers ready to head out into the open ocean in search of whales.
Every year, for hundreds of years now, humpback whales have made their way to Samana Bay. Cave drawings prove it: the Taíno people, who lived on the island before the Spanish arrived, depicted whales in a simple way — a semicircle like an arc, with a small fountain on top. These drawings clearly show that spotting whales in the bay was already a common sight back in ancient times.
An agonizing wait
Our snow-white boat, with its canopy, could hold fifty people. We got lucky — there were only thirty of us on the motor catamaran, so we spread out comfortably along both sides. Usually during whale season, the catamarans are packed, and there’s never a free seat.
The sky was dark gray, with haze hanging over the water. The ocean was choppy. It felt like a wave could crash over us at any moment… We finally headed out into the bay. Everyone stared at the horizon. Our guide explained that if we were lucky, we wouldn’t spot whales for at least half an hour — and if not, the search could drag on much longer. An hour passed. Every big ripple on the water looked like a fin, and shouts from fellow travelers on the boat (“Look! I think that’s one, right there!” “Yeah! I think I just saw a fin flash by!”) only stoked our excitement further. But it was in vain. No whales in sight. The captain pushed on, cutting through wave after wave. His first mate didn’t give up either, a spark of hope still in his eyes. It started to drizzle. The wind picked up, and it suddenly turned cold. Fear crept up on me without my noticing. The boat kept rising and dropping sharply — like a roller coaster, except out on the ocean!
I went to the stern to feel the raw energy of the elements with my whole being. The wind cut right through me, sweeping every thought from my head, cleansing my body with its powerful gust! I remembered the hooded sweatshirt and the warm pants. Soon I had put on everything I’d brought, including the towel, which I wrapped around my head. Most of our group were still in nothing but swimsuits and shorts, warming themselves with rum, which the first mate poured out generously. Everyone was exhausted, huddled in towels, no longer holding out much hope of finding the whales. “I guess we’ll have to turn back,” I heard the guide say. Disappointment nearly caught up with me. “Where are you, humpback whales?” I thought, staring back into the depths of the sea.
At last! There she is!
And then, suddenly! Completely out of nowhere, an enormous gray shape rose out of the water off our starboard side — so close that none of us could quite believe it! A humpback was gliding along just five or seven meters from our boat. The catamaran tilted to the right, and the whole group threw their hands up as if by magic. Someone screamed, and others couldn’t quite believe this was really happening. I was one of them. I was instantly filled with wonder, as if I’d become part of some great mystery of nature! “It happened! There they are, the giants of the sea! We found you!” raced through my mind.
The whale was so enormous that I instantly felt like the tiniest grain of sand in the universe. It’s hard to describe that feeling, but in that moment I felt, one hundred percent, that there was nothing around me except myself, the whale, and the ocean. Its back slipped back under the surface. Everyone waited. Time seemed to stop, and our shared awe passed like a kind of magic current from heart to heart, from gaze to gaze. Fear and despair gave way to joy and elation. We started cheering, trying to coax them into playing with us! And then, again! This time it was definitely a female — they’re usually a few meters longer than males. She raised her fin, holding it steady, straight up out of the water, as if waving to greet us! It was absolutely wonderful!
One man was standing at the back of the catamaran, camera in hand. The boat rocked so hard that he was thrown into the water. The camera was lost for good, but the thrilled, slightly shaken tourist was quickly pulled back aboard. “Well, I guess that counts as swimming with whales!” he said, lips trembling. Some people on the boat hadn’t even noticed what happened, but I watched the whole scene unfold. It was a shame about the camera, of course, but just imagine how that man must have felt, out in the deep, open Atlantic with a female humpback right beside him!
We made it back to shore after three hours adrift on the open ocean, battered by wind and rain, our voices hoarse from shouting and our bodies craving rest and warmth. Ahead of us waited a paradise island, a lunch of spiny lobster, and the famous Piña Colada. Over lunch we swapped stories, laughed, and every one of us was glowing with happiness after this incredible encounter — the kind people call “one in a million!”
