Editor's Note: Whale Day: A perfect time for pulling over

What nerve! Now we have to reposition our spotting scope!

In fact, it was a favorite parking spot of a Triplicate reporter until we started laying down the smack talk. He informed us, quite accurately, that he was enjoying a public viewpoint. And he went so far as to point out that we could go upstairs if we wanted an uninhibited angle on the sea.

Then he quit parking there.

We didn’t feel guilty. We usually have a wave and a smile for folks who happen to look inland and notice us in the window. If we’re already in the front yard, friendly chats sometimes ensue. Often the visitors are from far away and have just happened upon Pebble Beach Drive, despite the lack of signage leading to one of Crescent City’s signature attractions.

And occasionally, they’re having a peak experience like catching a full-blown sunset over the Pacific with stately Castle Rock in attendance.

How could we begrudge people this kind of beauty, even if they are parked in front of the house? Then again, if they just pulled forward about 10 feet …

It was Whale Day. Their southern migration isn’t supposed to reach these shores in earnest until December, but the visitations of gray whales are far less predictable than the weather. And on Sunday, the sea was full of giants.

We enjoy occasional sightings throughout the year. Our fellow mammals are courteous enough to announce their presence with a spray of stale air and water that allows plenty of time to train binoculars or a spotting scope on them as they surface. Week before last, the spouts were plentiful for about a three-day stretch.

But this day was like no other we’ve seen since hitting the beach almost two years ago. The vertical exhalations shot off like low-level fireworks near the shore, mid-range, and far out at sea. At one point Laura saw eights spouts at once. Another time, my spyglass captured a caravan of three grays surfacing simultaneously.

A mini-van slowed, pulled a U-turn and halted directly in front of our living room window. Its side door opened up to the spectacle at sea. A couple and their young son, all armed with binoculars, settled in for what turned out to be close to an hour of intense whale-viewing.

I glanced out at the visitors occasionally, watching them watching the show. They’d shown up at the perfect time, often catching the ultimate gray whale scene: full tails high out of the water at the beginning of deep dives that seemed to unfold in slow motion. The frolicking behemoths weren’t making it easy for this family to leave.

No, we don’t mind folks stopping out front to take it all in before heading down the road, probably to points inland. They remind us how much we treasured our fleeting coast visits in the old days, before we were fortunate enough to perch here full-time.