The boat was crowded. In holiday season, Mauritius attracts people from all over the world, and we had French, Italian, Australian and Indian tourists all eager to meet the inhabitants of inner space. The trip to the south is long. An Indian guy called Sun, a technology expert, enthused about the latest developments in the search for extra-terrestrial intelligence.

Someone remarked that, if the same amount of money had been spent trying to improve communication between humans war would be something of the past. 

The tropical sun beat down as we stopped. A hydrophone revealed that there were three whales in the vicinity, a male, a female and a youngster. Our guide, Hugues Vitry of Bluewater Diving, explained: "This is a resident pod of sperm whales, mostly mothers and babies. Males come up from the far south to visit, but rarely stay." And our captain, Navin, cautioned: "We may only stay one hour. Do not approach closer than 50 meters to the whales, and do not touch."

Someone tried to imitate the old sea captains: "Thar she blows!" And we saw the characteristic plume of spray as the wale breathed. The engines stopped. We could hear the creature breathe. No, there was a baby next to her, carefully kept away from us. And a third, a youngster, who was not at all shy. 

Divers jumped in the water, and tried to keep a respectful distance, but the youngster had not heard the briefing. Creaking and clicking to identify us, to scan us down to the bones with its sonar, he (we agreed that only boys can be so forward) pushed in between the snorkelers, turning on his side to get a good look at everyone. 

For the full hour we played in the water, with the mother making great circles around us, no doubt explaining to the baby that these clumsy creatures were harmless, and to be pitied because they were unable to dive the thousand and more meters down to the ridges where the delicious giant squid lurked. 

Then our time was up. Everyone was in a meditative mood as we returned, and wondered what these creatures with their enormous brains thought, what they conversed with each other.

Scientists have tried, with limited success, to decypher the songs of different types of whales. Will we be able to communicate with them?

Hughues was of the opinion that communication is possible if we were willing to listen. He told of a young whale who came up to him to have a fishing hook removed from it mouth. Of turtles in distress seeking help. 

We landed, got in our gas guzzling cars, and returned to our environment-destroying lifestyles. But perhaps we're now a little more tolerant to our fellow humans, a little more aware of our consumption of resources, and a little more careful of polluting our environment. 

Perhaps they did communicate with us?