White wisps of whales' spouts seemed to surface every time we looked over. Her parking meter was running out, but we couldn't stop watching, trying to guess correctly where they might surface next.

I didn't grow up near the coast. Now that I've lived in Newcastle for several years I'm coming to admire the monumental, fleeting magic that comes with spotting a whale.

In 2020, whale appreciation is a part of being Novocastrian.

Kathryn Connell remembers when her mother, Joy Cummings, was lord mayor in 1975 and she passed a motion in council that the city of Newcastle support a ban on whaling.

"When she spoke for the motion she explained that her parents would often take her to watch the whales migrating along the coast but over time they had almost disappeared," Connell says.

"The motion was passed, and eventually Australia came on board and whaling stopped.

"The week she died a whale calved just off Newcastle and the mother stayed around with the calf for several days; from dawn until dusk people lined every vantage point to get a glimpse of this amazing sight.

"The day of Mum's funeral we drove past the beaches to the cemetery and there they were."

Connell's memory moved me. It helped me to realise that what is now a normal, beautiful part of a coastal winter experience was not always the case.

Since 2018 Dominic May has offered whale watching tours in Newcastle with his business, CoastXP. Obviously, he's a big whale fan.

"Whales are increasing at a rate between 10 and 14 per cent each year, which is great because we used to have quite a lot of whaling stations where they would actively pursue whales for food," May says.

"Of course we don't do that any more.

"The last one closed in the '60s, and they took around about 40,000 humpback whales out of the population."

Professor of Marine Ecology at Macquarie University, Robert Harcourt, spoke to me over the phone from his Sydney home while simultaneously watching whales breach. He's been studying whales for 33 years and he was still excited to tell me what he was seeing in real time. During our phone call he'd seen six groups of humpbacks pass by.

Growing up, Harcourt loved the ocean.

"When I was a child there wouldn't have been any. They're a really important icon for how we can try to look after our planet - a striking success story," he says.

I don't know if it's my poor eyesight or short attention span, but I haven't always noticed whales in Newcastle. This time last year I went out on May's boat for a tour. It was cold and windy, but the sun was bright. As we left the harbour I was determined to see every whale in the ocean.

But the very first thing that resonated with me was watching Newcastle harbour grow smaller so quickly. Newcastle became increasingly insignificant. I thought about all the creatures in the ocean, who care nothing about who or what is on land.

Most cultures have stopped killing whales for their blubber, meat or body parts, but still they aren't completely safe. Ships often run them over, southern right whales in particular. Whales get tangled in nets, so fishing is another major cause of mortality in whales.

Harcourt says climate change will also be a problem for whales in the future. He's writing a paper with others on how COVID-19 will affect marine life.

These days humpback whales are the most common whale to see in Newcastle, but there are also southern right whales, (more common in southern Australia), minke whales, Bryde whales, sei whales and also blue whales, the biggest and rarest whales of all.

"You do get sperm whales further offshore. They'll be off Newcastle; they're oceanic," Harcourt says.

"You also see killer whales and loads of different types of dolphins."

He told me about Cape Solander at Sydney's Royal National Park where a group of volunteers sit for six weeks every day, all day, during June and July counting whales. My kind of science. The volunteers are managed by the national parks, and they'll see plenty of humpbacks and maybe one or two blue whales per year.

May told me whale watching season in Newcastle goes from June to November. We talked about where they're going and why.

"The whales are migrating from the cool Antarctic waters down south, to the warm waters of North Queensland," he says.

"The whole community leaves - males, females, pregnant, everyone goes. It's quite a journey. It's about three months, and over those three months they're effectively fasting or not eating besides maybe a bit of plankton."

The humpback's main priority is to mate and migrate.

"They're mating now for the calves they will have next season," he says.

"Over those three months, it's a 5000-plus kilometre journey. The adults lose a lot of body weight, but have a lot of stores in blubber. Then when they return to Antarctica, it's a big feast.

"The thing about warm-blooded mammals is the rate at which energy scales with size. The larger you are, the more efficient you are. If you're huge, your body stays warm just because it is large.

"Humpback whales won't feed for five months."

A blue whale could probably go without food for a few years, Harcourt says.

Humpbacks are famous for their reverberating singing. The males sing for the females. (Thirteen males will typically chase one female, and they'll bash each other in the race.)

"They move air around inside their larynx. They close their blowhole, and we think the air moves back and forth inside, although we are unsure exactly how they produce these beautiful sounds," Harcourt says.

"They don't sing through their mouth because there's no air coming through their mouth.

"The songs indicate to the female how fit the males [in an evolutionary sense] are; they have to hold their breath while they're singing. When the song breaks, that's an indicator how long they have been holding their breath."

Novocastrians hold whales close to their heart, but these mammals have captivated all of civilization. Think Moby Dick, Jonah in The Bible and even Disney's version of Pinocchio.

The New Yorker recently published "What Have We Done To The Whale", beautifully highlighting whales' history. Amia Srinivasan explains that whale songs can "go viral" across the world. Humpbacks singing in Puerto Rico are heard more than 3000 kilometres away by whales in Newfoundland.

While writing this story I began listening online to the low hums and high squeals of humpback whale songs. I thought about what it must be like to be a female whale, being seduced by these noises.

I can't believe we almost ended them.

Many locals have a whale story or observation. Nature lover and diver Tam Durney has plenty of whale tales.

"One morning I got a call from my best mate saying 'Let's go kayaking with whales', so without hesitation I came out. I'd never done it before so was pretty pumped," he says.

"We just walked straight in from Bar Beach and paddled out through a break in the waves.

"The moment we made it out back we saw a young whale breaching - the timing was perfect. So we paddled closer with the wind on our backs, knowing it would be a hard ride home. When we got within 100 metres we just sat in awe as the whale put on a show, splashing its tail and waving its fins."

As Newcastle's whale-watching season wraps up in 2020, this creature which humans almost destroyed and instead saved is worth remembering. In a year of deep breaths and deep reflection, a simple spout can be a sign of better days ahead.