by Bronwyn Donohue

Two Weeks at Whale CampThe scent of fish and brine fills my nose. The only

sounds I hear are the waves crashing against my

kayak, my heart beating, and a whale spouting

somewhere in the distance. Thick fog hugs the

kayak, creating the illusion that it is alone, that I

am alone. But it is just that, an illusion. A school

of fish turns suddenly beneath me, as if they share

the same brain or can read each other’s thoughts.

A razorbill sits on the water’s surface, oblivi-

ous to the harsh wind and bossy waves that

toss him back and forth in their game of

catch. An osprey circles above, its keen eye

searching, waiting for the sun to glance off

a telltale scale, alerting him that dinner is

waiting. I know that these birds can see

three to five times better than a human,

and I imagine how spectacular the ocean

must look from his eyes.

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Two Weeks at Whale Camp

Two Weeks at Whale CampThis was Whale Camp, a summer program on Grand Manan Island in the North

Atlantic, off the coasts of both Maine and New Brunswick. This picturesque Canadian maritime island forms the eastern edge of the Bay of Fundy. The Fundy tidal ecozone teems with wildlife and, as a place to study biological organisms, rivals the Amazon Rainforest and Australia’s Great Barrier Reef. One hundred billion tons of seawater pour in and out of the bay each day, causing tidal variations as great as 50 feet. These churning waters are extremely rich in nutrients, attracting sea life from krill and lobster to porpoises, northern right whales, puffins, and seals, making it the ideal classroom for studying marine science.

Whale Camp itself is located on a cliff a hundred feet from the ocean, bordered on one side by stunted coniferous trees that have survived years of nor’easters, and on the other by a meadow dotted with wildflowers. The dormitories are comfortable, but sparse. Not that it mattered; we were almost never there.

Whales and MoreOur classrooms were a beach and the deck of a boat. The other students and I—11 of us the first week, 28 the next—were taught that whale calves are born with hair but soon lose it, and that because whales travel in pods, they’re rarely attacked by sharks. They have bones in their flippers—vestiges of their time on land—and their closest relative is the hippo.

We learned to translate whale behavior, which came in handy on our whale-watch-ing trips. A whale lifts his head out of the water because he is curious about what’s going on above. A flipper slap says to other whales, “Hey guys, I’m here!” We also learned that knowing how to help a beached mammal can mean the difference between a successful rescue and an injured animal (or an injured human trying to help). In one exercise, Zoë was a beached whale and I her injured calf. The other students “poured water” over us while rolling us onto a tarp, trying to avoid our tails, as frightened animals will struggle and thrash. Zoë was successfully rescued, but I, unfortunately, died.

In addition to learning about whales, we attended sessions on ornithology, culmi-nating in a two-hour boat ride to a puffin reserve. We spent the afternoon in blinds, small bird-watching shacks where we could watch the birds undetected.

One day, we explored a bog filled with mysterious plants, including insectivores such as pitcher plants—which lure prey into a pitcher-shaped cavity where the insect drowns and disintegrates—and sundews, which trap insects in drops of liquid at the

Bronwyn and fellow campers at Hole-in-the-Wall

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ends of their tentacles. We located bog plants and taught the other students about them. As I explained that the pitcher plant’s smooth sides prevent trapped insects from climbing out, I real-ized that the best way to learn something is to teach it to others.

Geology, Biology, and EcologyWe studied the geology of the island, hiking and kayaking along the coast. Climbing to Flock of Sheep—granite boulders bleached white by melting glaciers 10,000 to 15,000 years ago—we collected rocks that we classified as sedimentary, igneous, or metamorphic. In kayaks, we paddled out to Hole-in-the-Wall—a huge rock with a hole in it—to observe the effects of cliff erosion and tidal variation.

We learned classifications of marine animals, and about tides and currents. Searching in pairs, we collected specimens: two green crabs mating, a black and white eel, starfish, limpets. We returned to the beach to classify the various species, dis-cussing why they go into the category they do and how they’re related to each other. Then we put them back, but we didn’t have far to go: the tide had already started coming in, erasing any sign that the tide pools had ever been there.

Collecting organisms to assess the cleanliness of stream water, my partner and I found a winged insect that walks on water. We searched the books the instructors had brought, but

we couldn’t find this insect. We wondered if we had discovered a new species, but our teacher informed us that it was a mem-ber of the family culicidae—otherwise known as a mosquito. After collecting our specimens, we counted the number of each kind of insect. Using a chart that correlates insects with the level of pollution they can tolerate, we determined that the water was very polluted. It had rained recently, though, making the water extremely muddy—a variable that, as our instructor explained, affected our results.

Social StudiesWhile science is the main focus of the program, we also learned about the history, economy, and culture of Grand Manan. We explored the island’s architecture, ending our lesson at a 250-year-old cemetery, where we did headstone rubbings. At the local library, we attended a lecture by a Canadian Native American about the Canadian government’s failure to honor Native American rights.

Examining tensions between environmentalism and economics, we staged a town meeting. Some of us were fishermen; others played environmentalists, tourists, whale-watching company owners, local business owners, or town elders. We debated whether there should be whale watching in the Bay of Fundy. Not surprisingly, those who rely on the

Campers gather near the Swallowtail Lighthouse, built on the northern end of Grand Manan Island in 1860.

At the Whale Research Station on Grand Manan Island, researchers rescue a porpoise from a fishing net.

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Two Weeks at Whale Camp

tourist trade were all for it, while the fishermen were opposed to it because the large whale-watching boats damage their fishing weirs and scare the fish away.

My two weeks at Whale Camp flew by, but the lessons I learned will stay with me, as will the memories of the diverse and

beautiful life I encountered there.I’m paddling along the coast of Grand Manan. A translucent

moon jelly dances by my kayak, skirt fanning out as she swirls and gracefully glides under my kayak. Unaware of her audience, she continues with her solitary waltz, disappearing from my view as she is—just as I have been—embraced by the ocean.

Bronwyn Donohue hails from Midland, MI, and is currently living in Heidelberg, Germany. She is spending her freshman high school year online with the Center for Talent Development and also attends the local German gymnasium part-time. She enjoys reading, writing, riding horses, listening to music, watching movies, and chatting with friends.

For more information about Whale Camp, see www.whalecamp.com.

Learning coastal ecology in the Bay of Fundy

Students examine the ecology of the tidal zone.

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