One day in March, before 7 in the morning, I buy a "boarding pass" from the "Caribe Tours" company at the Central Station of Santo Domingo and take a large bus with tinted windows bound for Samaná, in the north of the island, one of the most spectacular tourist destinations in the Dominican Republic.
Halfway there, the cloud darkens: the trade winds, upon colliding with the island's protuberances, condense the vapor, and it often rains, in lateral gusts. From time to time the sun comes out. I see people deforesting with machetes. In many "bohíos" -the peasants' huts- a light bulb burns all day above the door (it seems that not paying for electricity is common).
The landscape is typically African, tropical, with slender palm trees with thin trunks, and "guineos" -or banana trees- with wide leaves like an elephant's ear. In some clearings in the coconut grove, they pile up the coconuts and set them on fire to burn the husk. Among the lush tropical vegetation, from time to time you can see some splendid beaches with light sand.
I cross the island from south to north, from the Caribbean coast to the Atlantic coast. After four and a half hours of travel, passing through Sánchez, Nagua and the rice fields of Cenoví, I arrive at Samaná, its magical bay. When the bus stops at its destination, a squadron of dark-skinned men riding small Japanese motorcycles spectacularly surround the exit of the passage, offering themselves as taxis.
At the stop, already peeled, white oranges are sold. The coconut trees lean down to the transparent, turquoise waterline. The great attraction of Samaná are the humpback whales, which can be seen every year between mid-January and mid-March. Coming from the cold waters of the North Atlantic (some from Iceland, 5,000 kilometers away) they come here to give birth after an eleven or twelve-month pregnancy. And here they also become pregnant again. And they leave with the proximity of summer.
Although by late March they have already begun to withdraw, and few remain, I embark on a planing boat to see them up close with a small group of Italians. We face the waves at such speed that we often remain suspended in the air until we fall with a violent splash. I cling as best I can to the gunwale so as not to be thrown out. At the bow, a boy like an ape, crouched, acts as a counterweight and lookout.
"Ecco lá! ... Ecco lá! ..." -someone shouts after half an hour of navigation. The boat slows down, and finally turns off the engine. It's a monster! The whale must be about fifteen meters long and passes so close that we clearly hear the blow with which it expels air from its lungs. It swims, with tranquil elegance, perhaps only at about two kilometers per hour: it arches its back, undulates up and down, pokes out its snout, dives, and propels itself with the help of its muscular tail.
How much must it weigh? Perhaps sixty tons... By its flank swims the calf, which must be only about fifteen days old, although it already measures four or five meters... It is also dark, with smooth skin, and white fins and belly. It nurses on its mother's thick milk for the first year and, like her, has bumps on its head that apparently help them navigate by sensing environmental stimuli.
To eat, we stop at the small islet of Cayo Levantado. And under a reed canopy on the beach, I try lobster cooked with coconut milk. But I don't even look at the scaled fish. The terrible "ciguatera" (which causes fierce muscle pain and considerable neurological disorder that can last three, four, or five months) is transmitted by eating a fish that, in turn, has consumed a type of toxic algae (to protect itself from predators: nature is wise...).
On the way back, the outboard motor roars even more furiously, breaking the waves without hesitation. Too late, I read somewhere: "An unseaworthy vessel is dangerous. Most whales are found in the open sea, where there are strong waves, and not in the lower part of the bay, where the sea is calmer. Use only solid and safe vessels that can withstand the waves and do not risk your life sailing in vessels that do not have, at least, a marine radio and a life jacket for each passenger." Yes, precautions must be taken. But whale watching in Samaná is an unforgettable experience.