The skipper wasn't optimistic about seeing a humpback. We were too late in the season, he reckoned. The mothers and calves would already have started the long journey south to the Antarctic from their breeding grounds off north-western Australia. With the approach of the wet season in the Buccaneer Archipelago, the air was sticky and the water a "cool" 29C – bath temperature.
Then, on the horizon, a faint splutter. With the twin-engine in full throttle, we sped in pursuit. For minutes, nothing. Then a gleaming black-and-white humpback torpedoed out of the water, landing on its back with a loud smack.
As the whale breached less than 100ft away, a wave of rank fishy odour engulfed the boat. With each leap the pong grew stronger and the whoops on board louder. There is nothing like a close encounter with a 35-ton whale for an intoxicating high.
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