Dancing for whales
We paid for ‘whale watching’, but we were performing for the whales; with the whales.
The wisened ocker Aussie Captain eased us into proximity to a pod of three: Mum, Bub and dad. He said that whales were smart, so we needed to interact, to wave so that they remained interested.
“Oh” I thought to myself. “Avoid habituation”. In neuroscience we learn that neurons fire when the unexpected turns up and settle down if perceptions are predictable and routine. Claude Shannon’s information theory supposes that communication only occurs when information from a sender changes a receiver’s beliefs. Bayesian models and predictive models of cognition emphasise the importance of surprise, adaptation and belief revision to attention.
Upshot? Why wave I thought, when I can dance? Let’s really put on a show for these majestic creatures! I drew on my inner waving balloon (uno, those ones at car lots) and started some major limb expressions. I swooped down and up; around and around. I curled in my fingers like a goth dancer. I clapped like a cheerleader. I rotated like a rhythmic gymnast. I was a loon.
While most tourists sat placidly, waiting for whales to do something for them. An indigenous mob beside me on the front deck lowered their inhibitions and invited a conversation.
The whales loved it! They swept up and over like great barnacle rainbows, twisting, waving their fins on the side, mugging (sticking snouts out of the water), slamming their tails, and dancing back. Is this real?
I couldn’t believe the experience. At first I was skeptical, but danced anyway. But then as the time went by and the whales stayed with us, really trying to connect. I felt big interconnected energy bands drawing us to each other. Then I felt us work working in synchronicity — for a time.
Who knew?
Who knew that whales are seeking a show?! Ours was alright, but we need ballerinas, opera singers and acrobats!
I want to put on a show, for the whales. I think they’ll come! They want to know what’s happening. I want to show them.
