Samaná: My Whale Watching Wonder

We were in Samaná in peak whale season (February) and I still get emotional thinking about it. The ship anchors and tenders us to the dock; we walked straight onto a waiting catamaran with maybe 40 other people — perfect size. Within 30 minutes we were in the bay and the captain cut the engine because we were surrounded.

A mother humpback (45 ft easy) and her calf (already 18–20 ft) were breaching in perfect synchrony — slamming down with explosions of white water that drenched us even 100 yards away. Then a male escort started singing — this deep, haunting, vibrating moan we could hear through the hull. The naturalist had a hydrophone and played it over the speakers; grown adults were openly weeping. We saw pec-slaps, tail lobs, spy-hops — at one point the mom lifted her entire head out of the water like she was checking us out. Easily a dozen different whales, all within a mile radius.

Back on land we had time for Cayo Levantado (Bacardi Island) — postcard-perfect with palm trees leaning over white sand and beach bars grilling lobster. The water was warm as bath and so clear I watched permit fish follow my fins hoping for food. Lunch was whole grilled snapper with tostones and ice-cold Presidente beer while a merengue band played.

The pros: whale encounter of a lifetime, and the Dominican people are some of the warmest on the planet.

The cons: outside January–March it's "just" a pretty beach day (still great, but the whales are the main event).

Practical tips: Book whale watching through the ship for guaranteed return or with Kim Beddall's Victoria Marine — the gold standard. Bring binoculars and a waterproof camera. Seas can be choppy — take Dramamine if you're prone.