The connection happens in only one place in the world. That’s why a band of members from Monterey’s chapter of the Cetacean Society join a trek to Baja California each year to experience it.

“It’s a spiritual thing. I’ve seen people cry,” says Jerry Loomis, trip leader, former Point Lobos ranger, longtime ocean naturalist and president of the local Cetacean Society branch. “It really does touch you.”

According to local lore, it first happened in 1972. For reasons that are unknown to this day, it was then, in ocean-fed Laguna San Ignacio in the dry dunes of central Baja California, that gray whales initiated contact with humans: A Mexican fisherman named Francisco Mayoral reported that a cow and her calf approached his small boat and shared an amiable interaction. Initial fear of a 45-foot animal weighing as much as 10 elephants gave way to awe and respect.

“From that day forward, the whales became friendlier and friendlier,” says Loomis. He says that led to a change in the local fisherman and the way they treated their territory.

“The fisherman down there become whale watchers in wintertime, protecting the lagoon,” he says. “They see the value, morally and economically, and do a great job.”

In the ‘90s, Mitsubishi threatened to build the world’s largest salt-producing factory in San Ignacio, but the locals rallied public opinion and groups like the National Resources Defense Council to help successfully lobby the Mexican government to block the construction of the factory. Today the lagoon is protected by both Mexican and international law. And with their own grassroots cooperative conservation group, the local fisherman limit the number of small eight-person boats, or pangas, that have access to the lagoon, and how many may approach a friendly whale at the same time.

The whales travel quite a ways for the rendezvous. As they have for 8 million years, they migrate south from Alaska every January to the warm latitudes of Mexico to birth their calves and nurse them safely to a strength that will sustain them on the return north to food-rich spots like the Bering Sea—donating a generous 20 percent of their own body weight to the cause. (If that wasn’t impressive enough, the cows do this while fasting themselves, all before the 5,000 mile return trip.) The calves fatten from 1,500 to 4,500 pounds.

Members of the Cetacean Society and other locals now meet them there each March. As Loomis alluded to at the group’s most recent monthly meeting last Thursday, for these whale lovers, it’s a pilgrimage that culminates in a powerful moment. It’s a big reason that only two spots remain for the spring 2007 trip.

“It changes you when you have a whale beside the boat and they’re looking at you and you’re touching it,” Loomis says. “You wouldn’t see them approaching anywhere else in the world. They’re tender animals.”

Cetacean member and two-time visitor Sally Eastham of Pacific Grove gets emotional just thinking about her visits.

“It’s like this connection with nature—the fact that this animal is so big and trusting and gentle is just amazing,” she says. “It brings tears to my eyes. The fact that they push their babies up for us to see is incredible.”

While scientists speculate why the cows like to encourage their newborns to be cordial, visitors are confident in their own theory.

“The mothers show off their calves,” says Diane Glim, trip alum, former Cetacean chapter president, and Weekly employee.

Glim and Eastham also agree that the whales’ baseball-sized eyes leave an unmistakable impression.

“They are so expressive,” Glim says. “You feel like you’re looking into another being. They really have an intelligence that comes out through their eyes.”

As the whales care for their young in the lagoon, a poetic parallel has been taking place on shore: The Cetacean Society members noticed that the youth of the poor fishing community of corrugated-tin-and-plywood houses could use more resources, so they began to drum up some support.

They began bringing checks for a few hundred dollars and school supplies to the local schoolhouse with every visit.

“Then we thought ‘Let’s do something more elaborate,’” Loomis says. As they continued to gather supplies and cash donations, they raffled off a bronze sculpture by Randy Puckett, bumping their latest contribution into the thousands of dollars. The sculpture, fittingly, was carved in the shape of a breeching gray whale.

FOR MORE about the Cetacean Society Monterey Bay Chapter, visit starrsites.com/acsmb/. For more on the trip, call 419-1051.