Tanya Streeter crouches in the bluebonnets blooming in her Austin backyard. Pam LeBlanc photo

Look a humpback whale in its softball-sized eye and something clicks inside you.

I found that out recently, but world record-setting free diver and environmentalist Tanya Streeter learned it a long time ago. She saw my posts from the Silver Bank off the coast of the Dominican Republic recently, and we decided we needed to get together to catch up.

(Read my article in the Austin American-Statesman about Streeter’s work to create a documentary about the science and health impact of plastic pollution here.)

Streeter, who free dove competitively from the late 1990s to 2006, reaching depths of up to 525 feet without air tanks or scuba gear, is now focused on raising her two children – Tilly, 10, and Charlie, 3.

The kids, apparently, are taking after mom. When I got to Streeter’s house, she showed me Tilly’s latest school project – a humpback whale molded from clay that will hang in a display box painted the exact color of the ocean.

A mama humpback whale and its calf swim at the Silver Bank in the Dominican Republic last week. Chris LeBlanc photo

Streeter, it turns out, went out on the same boat I just spent a week on back in 2005, while filming a short documentary about swimming with the whales for the BBC. We both agreed: Whales are incredible. They’re beautiful, strong, intelligent, curious and gentle, and put on amazing acrobatic shows, all the while knowing their exact body position in the water.

They’re also the perfect way to spread the story of conservation and habitat protection. People are drawn to the school bus-sized creatures, and science shows that whales, which migrate to the Silver Bank from the North Atlantic in the winter to give birth and raise their calves, can teach us about the status of the seas.

“Whales are barometers of ocean health,” she says. “They hold so much awe for people – so in a way whales are our storytellers.”

Streeter supports tight regulations surrounding human interaction with whales. Just three boats are licensed each season to carry passengers to the Silver Bank to see the humpbacks. Scuba diving isn’t allowed; humans can float in the water in small groups but are not permitted to chase the whales. They must wait for the whales to approach them.

An adult whale breaches at the Silver Bank last week. Pam LeBlanc photo

That’s different, for example, then the situation off of Isla Mujeres, where tourists flock each summer to swim with whale sharks. While that experience is also regulated, when I went three years ago it was chaotic, too, with people jumping in the water and swimming after the huge creatures.

Look for my complete story about my humpback experience soon.

Want to help protect the whales? Streeter suggests Whale and Dolphin Conservation or World Animal Protection.

Sheila Reiter in the front seat of Team That’s What She Said during a training run on the San Marcos River on March 24. Pam LeBlanc photo

Team “That’s What She Said” (it’s official!) returned to the San Marcos River today for a training run.

I’ve joined a three-woman team for the 2019 Texas Water Safari, a 260-mile paddling race from San Marcos to Seadrift on the Texas coast. My partners – Sheila Reiter and Heather Harrison – are veteran paddlers, each with multiple safaris under their belts. I’m a rookie who just started paddling in the last year.

Sheila Reiter scouts a log jam. Pam LeBlanc photo[/caption]

I’ve never paddled a boat more than 60 miles, I don’t know how to pee in a moving canoe, and I hate sleep deprivation. Other than that, I’m totally in.

We dropped a vehicle at Palmetto State Park and put in at a spot just west of Luling at about 10:45 a.m. this morning.

Heather Harrison, front, explains the finer points of a portage. That’s Sheila Reiter in the background. Pam LeBlanc photo

Today’s session felt great. Sheila adjusted our seats to better balance our boat, and we made our way down 20 miles of twisting river beneath overcast skies. We tackled a log jam, lined our boat down a rapid dubbed Son of Ottine, portaged a dam at Zedler Mill, and spotted the usual array of wildlife (snake in river, cows – dead and alive – in river, owl in tree eyeballing us, hawk, buzzards, and a very cute 6-week old puppy to finish.)

And we didn’t flip the boat, despite a minefield of staubs (paddler lingo for partially submerged logs or stumps that wreak havoc on canoes).

Sheila Reiter paddles as fast as she can past an attack heifer. Pam LeBlanc photo

Paddle training takes time. We spent about four and a half hours on the river (three and a half actually paddling – the rest scouting, breaking and portaging), but I left home at 6:45 a.m. and didn’t get home until almost 4:30 p.m. A lot of time is spent loading and unloading boats and gear, dropping vehicles for the shuttle and talking about what to expect on race day.

Sheila Reiter, right, explains how we’re going to get through Son of Ottine rapids. 

Things I learned today: Old white long johns once used for snow skiing make great sun protection on the river even if they’re ugly. It’s fun to walk down the spine of a giant fallen log. I’ve got a terrible knack for splashing the person in the front seat with water.

I’ve still got lots more to learn, like how to comfortably pee into a cup while sitting in a moving canoe, how to double blade to break up the hours of single-blading, and how to improve my paddling form. I need to dip my paddle in the water farther up and take it out a little earlier. I also need more power – and more confidence.

[caption id="attachment_464" align="alignnone" width="4923"] Happy teammates at the end of Sunday’s training run. Pam LeBlanc left, Heather Harrison, center, and Sheila Reiter, right.

But chalk today up as a good one. No blisters, my hands didn’t get numb like they sometimes do, I’m happily tired but not exhausted, and I love being outside, using my body.

Look for me Tuesday afternoon on Lady Bird Lake for a short session.

To get the best view of Central Texas wildflowers, ride the Willow City Loop north of Fredericksburg on a bicycle. Photo by Chris LeBlanc

It’s a rite of spring in my household – pedal the Willow City Loop north of Fredericksburg each spring, to admire the bluebonnets and get some nice exercise.

My husband Chris and I made the 21-mile clockwise ride this morning, starting from the town of Willow City and pedaling west for 2 miles along FM 1323 to Texas Highway 16. We turned right, rode another 6.5 miles alongside zooming traffic and swift downhills (the scariest part of the ride) to Willow City Loop. We turned right onto the loop and enjoyed 10 miles of some of the prettiest wildflower viewing in Central Texas. The two-lane road that twists and rolls alongside creeks and pastures, many of them filled with blooms this time of year.

It’s not peak season yet, but flowers are blooming along the route. Pam LeBlanc photo

The 10-mile loop is famous for flower peeping. Although the flowers haven’t yet peaked, pools of bluebonnets are out in force. In a few more weeks, you’ll see Indian paintbrushes, lantana, winecups and more. 

This white bluebonnet was mixed in with the usual blues. Pam LeBlanc photo

I found a one white bluebonnet, mixed in with the usual denim-colored flowers. We saw plenty of white poppies and some yellow and pink flowers I can’t identify, too. 

Lost in a sea of bluebonnets. Chris LeBlanc photo

Since we were a bit early in the season, and weather forecasts called for a chance of rain, we didn’t run into the usual stream of vehicles, either. We passed a line of BMWs out for a group ride, plus a group of Porsches. We came across one other cyclist, a bunch of cows and some goats.

Bluebonnets are out in force. Pam LeBlanc photo

Other highlights? A fence line with cowboy boots capping each post, a super loud frog chirping from a canyon, lots of water in the creeks and a beautiful old windmill.

Cowboy boots top the fenceposts along one section of the loop. Pam LeBlanc photo

Go forth and enjoy the flowers. And for best results, do it by bicycle.

Pam LeBlanc soaking in a Texas spring. Chris LeBlanc photo

A mama humpback whale and its calf swim at the Silver Bank in the Dominican Republic last week. Chris LeBlanc photo

Last week, I was dressed head to toe in neoprene, sliding on my belly off a tiny boat into the ocean, where I watched school bus-sized whales and their car-sized babies frolic in the ocean.

I’m writing a story about my experience at the Silver Bank, a nine-hour boat ride off the coast of the Dominican Republic, but wanted to share a few pictures now.

We spent our days riding on a tender, observing and floating in the water with whales. Pam LeBlanc photo

Humpback whales are groovy. They spend their summers in the North Atlantic, and each winter swim thousands of miles to this shallow uprising in the ocean, where the females give birth and raise their calves. The mothers teach babies the whale skills they’ll need when they head back north, things like breaching, tail slapping, spy hopping and communicating.

An adult whale breaches at the Silver Bank last week. Pam LeBlanc photo

I spent a week on a live-aboard boat at the Silver Bank with about 20 others, heading out each day on tender to observe and snorkel with the creatures. Each evening, marine biologists taught us about the animals’ anatomy, migration patterns and behavior, and the challenges the species faces from threats like pollution, hunting, noise and plastic waste.

A humpback whale plays in the ocean at the Silver Bank last week. Pam LeBlanc photo

Adult humpbacks have eyes the size of softballs; their pectoral fins look like long surfboards. The mamas measure about 45 feet long; the babies are about 12 feet long when they’re born, but grow an inch and gain 100 pounds each day. And the males sing – a 20-minute “melody” with three distinctive parts. Each year, they drop one part and replace it with another. Different communities of whales sing distinctive songs.

A humpback whale calf swims with its mother. Chris LeBlanc photo

Whales, in short, are smart. Really smart. And you get that sense when you look one in the eye.

I’ll post the article here when it’s published.

Scientists believe humpback whales communicate by tail slapping (shown here), singing, breaching and fin slapping. Pam LeBlanc photo

SeaLegacy sells kits containing bamboo cutlery, so you can skip the throw-away spork. Pam LeBlanc photo

Sometimes we pay too expensive a price for convenience.

Many of us rely on single-use plastics when we don’t really need them.

Do you really need that plastic bag at the store or can you just carry your purchases out in your hands? Do you really need that plastic straw or can you sip straight from the cup? Do you really need a disposable plastic bottle of water or can you fill a reusable container from the tap?

On my way back from a trip to the Dominican Republic to watch humpback whales recently, a fellow passenger pulled out a set of reusable bamboo utensils when we sat down for a snack at an airport café.

The kit, sold by SeaLegacy, comes with a knife, fork, spoon, chopsticks and straw made of bamboo and sells for $40. The company also sells sets of reusable six bamboo straws for $25, metal bento boxes and reusable water bottles. Proceeds from sales of the kits support the non-profit organization’s efforts to create healthy oceans.

The cutlery comes in this fabric pouch. Pam LeBlanc photo

Photographers Cristina Mittermeier and Paul Nicklen formed SeaLegacy in 2014 as a way to use their images to spur people to action. Today the non-profit organization is a collective of photographers, filmmakers and story tellers. You may have seen one of the collective’s images – a shot of a tiny seahorse, its tail wrapped around a pink plastic ear swab floating in the ocean.

It’s a reminder of how much of the single-use plastic we use in day-to-day life ultimately washes down rivers and into oceans, where it pollutes the environment and kills marine life that eats it or gets entangled in it.

By carrying reusable bamboo cutlery, you can skip the plastic disposable stuff handed out at fast food restaurants.

Check them out at www.sealegacy.org.