The Wisdom of Whales
A huge thank you to our Tribe of women who made this weekend so damn special. 💙 Led by Shannon (one of our trip leaders and the heart behind The Salty Tribe) and Consu (co-leader and endless source of guidance and heart), we shared an ocean-filled adventure that was equal parts courage, connection and community. Together we free dived (some for the very first time, others finding their rhythm again), swam with whales, seals, Port Jackson sharks, and through kelp forests. There were sunrise dips, shared stories over meals, deep dives into whale wisdom, and reflections on how these gentle giants continue to inspire us — reminding us of our connection to the sea, and to each other.
This blog post is written by Shannon, sharing her account with the whales.
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I don’t think I’ve ever been blown away by whales as much as I am now.
They are massive, powerful creatures, yet somehow they carry that power with the most incredible grace. And the thing that really gets me—they choose whether or not to engage with us.
On the Saturday of our September Whale Retreat, as the sun was dropping low and bouncing off the wavy sea, they chose us.
It was one of the most incredible moments of my life. Bloody beautiful. Beyond words.
We slid into the water as quietly as possible, trying not to spook them. As we did one surfaced so close, but what stuck with me was the deep vibration of their blow as they surfaced for air that reverberated in my chest. That sound went straight through me. I knew then—it was on. We were about to have the experience of a lifetime.
Our intimate group clung to the rope, hand over hand, spaced out in silence, waiting. My GoPro tells me it was only minutes, but it felt like forever.
I stared into the blue harder than I think I’ve ever stared at anything in my life, looking for specks of white in the fading light. Then—there it was. About twenty metres from us, a calf dove, its silhouette framed by golden hour and the sun melting into the horizon. My GoPro also tells me my response was… to laugh uncontrollably.
We were told to keep looking down, because whales can appear and disappear in seconds. And then... One slid beneath us. Just a few seconds of pure bliss, but enough to change everything.
And just when we thought that was it, the ocean lit up. White flashes rising from below—the undersides of pec fins rolling and catching the light. Then more patches of white, and suddenly two calves were playing right below us. First horizontal, then turning vertical, drifting upwards together like some slow-motion dance. They broke the surface nose first, then their foreheads, breathing in perfect unison, before sinking back below.
My GoPro also tells me I made uncontrollable, orgasmic-sounding noises (apparently loud enough to drown everyone else out). Some of us cried. Some laughed. Some felt like throwing up. Some went quiet. It didn’t matter—each of us had our own reaction. That’s the beauty of it. But what we all shared was a connection with whales deeper than we could’ve imagined.
Did it feel like they put on a show for us? Honestly, yes. Maybe that’s me humanising it. Who knows. What I do know is they were aware we were there, and in an ocean that big, they could’ve easily avoided us. But they didn’t. And that made it feel so precious. A few seconds that will stay with me forever.
Back on land, we all struggled to put it into words. That’s the thing about moments like this—they remind us that we’re part of their world, not separate from it. They spark something inside us, like a mirror held up to our own lives.
Some of the themes we pulled out afterwards were choice, trust, patience, wisdom. Lessons from whales. Lessons from the sea.
Funny thing is, earlier that day I thought we might leave without seeing them in the water. And honestly—that’s good too. The reminder to let go of expectations, to let wildlife come to you on their own terms.
I’m just so grateful. For whales, for this encounter, for their survival. To think that once they were hunted down to less than 100 individuals, and now there are over 50,000. I can’t imagine a world without them.
That day, the whales chose to meet us. And in their choice, I realised my own. Whale wisdom. My wisdom. With me, always.
And now, thanks to the beautiful work of local artist Maz Cole, we all have a whale necklace to carry that reminder—calling on it whenever we need.
This was just the experience with the whales, let alone the magic of the rest of the weekend - that’s for another blog post!
Inspired by this story and ready to take the plunge? Join our next Salty Tribe Shark Retreat ‘embracing fear with sharks as our guides’: 26 February- 1 March, 2026 at Seal Rocks, NSW! See the details here.
Express your interest to join next year’s Whale-ness Retreat here!
