Whale of a Time.

Old State House, Boston massacre site.

Boston, MA – The sun glimmered off the tracks that stitched our path from Braintree into Boston this morning.

Given past experiences, I've refused to drive in this city. Really, where else puts exit signs after an exit on the highway? Compound that with a series of one-way streets and tunnels that bring GPS signals to a grinding halt, and we opted to stay in the 'burbs and ride the rails.

Along the way, spray paint bubbles shouted allegiances in eye-popping colour.

It would be a morning of following the lines, as we also hit the red bricks that mark the city's Freedom Trail. From Boston Common to the Old State House to Bunker Hill, we trekked the 2.5-mile path to 16 sites that mark the city's role in the American Revolution.

In the afternoon, we bounced over two-foot swells aboard the Aurora, in search of whales. Tourists took turns trying to face the force of the wind at the front of the boat and were repeatedly pushed aside. Wind selfies rapidly became 'a thing.' The cold gave me a headache, but shivers could not diminish my joy of being back on a boat.

But then, the main event.

Just a fluke.

A seal bobbed like a dog in the wake, likely pleased with having a meal churned up for it. And, with an abrupt huff and a spray, minke and humpback whales rose to the surface, seemingly languid (as much so as a 79,000-pound animal can do anything languidly), flashing their tails and melting back into the frigid sea.

We saw approximately a dozen whales, which come here in great numbers to feed after six winter months spent starving in the Dominican Republic.

They certainly put on a show.