Well, it's part of a larger story that would have made for an incredible Trip Report. I would have called it something like National Lampoon's New England Vacation. Basically, anything that could have gone wrong, did go wrong.
Anyway, when we got to Bar Harbor, ME to visit Acadia National Park, we signed up to go whale watching. It was the only thing my wife had asked to do on the entire trip, and being an amazing husband, I made sure it would happen. When we piled onto the boat, the captain made an announcement warning us that the waves were choppy and they were seeing 3' groundswells on the open ocean.
My wife and I are landlubbers. We wouldn't know what a groundswell was if it smacked us upside the head and stole our wallets. Besides, this is the only thing she wanted to do, so we're not bailing now.
We get out into the open ocean and are immediately tossed around like Bobby Knight's folding chairs. This goes on for a good hour or so. The boat turns into a floating M*A*S*H unit, with people losing their lunch all over the place. Finally, after forever, the captain spots some whales.
So they stop the boat. We're still being tossed by waves. Did I mention it was summer? And very hot for New England? 90 degrees? Now the sun is beating down on us. Not only that, but the captain wants to make sure everyone on board gets to see the whales. So they start spinning the boat around.
I tossed my cookies. And my wife was jealous.
I can vouch for the saying that there are 2 stages of seasickness. In the first stage, you're afraid you're going to die. In the second, you're afraid you won't.
Once we saw the whales, the boat changed course. Not to head back to land. We headed out to sea for another hour to see puffins. They looked like little black specks on a rock. Finally, after a 3-hour tour (a 3-hour tour), we made it back to shore. I literally kissed the ground.
Have fun whale-watching, Barry!
