The Bay (37 page)

The routine that started on the first day consisted of rising at first light and sitting on the cool deck with a mug of steaming tea to watch the dawn break, eating a huge breakfast, then having a quiet conversation with the four students from Beacon Bay High. They were doing a school project in conjunction with Tina Cook from National Parks. It was part of The Bay's whale-watch program which Tina had set up at the lighthouse with Wally and Trish. Holly thought how nice it was to have the local kids with them, and they started to discuss what the kids liked about growing up in The Bay.

‘Lifestyle, laid-back lifestyle. That's what my parents came for when they sold up in the city. I love them for making that decision,' said one of the boys with a big smile. ‘They don't want to go back, but I guess I'll have to get a city job after uni. There won't be enough work around for all of us. Not everyone will be happy to work in tourism and stuff like that.'

Two of the girls had come to The Bay as toddlers and couldn't remember any other place. They had more faith in the future offering a greater diversity of jobs in the country, particularly in resort areas, ‘So long as developers don't spoil everything.' They were fascinated by Holly's project and were delighted when she invited them to drop around when they were back home.

The fourth student, a well-tanned boy who was built like a front-row footballer, announced that The Bay was heaven, it had to get bigger and he wanted part of the action. ‘I'm going to get a trade and a ute and lead the good life right there. I can go to the cities for hols, if I want.' He'd been born in The Bay, his father was a plumber.

The other passengers were Alex and Ivy, an American couple who worked for an international computer conglomerate as research physicists, but their main interest was in quartz crystals. In a private moment with Holly, Mitch said he found Ivy and Alex more New Age spiritualists than scientists. Then there was Tor, a shy, smiling young Norwegian backpacking student.

‘Following the whales, eh?' Trish asked.

‘If I was I would be on a never-ending journey,' he said.

Trish was delighted with his response, and the slight accent that emphasised his Scandinavian origin. ‘Yep, that's right,' she said, then turned to explain to the school group. ‘We know that all humpbacks follow similar migration patterns, whether in the northern or southern hemispheres. Seasonal timing means that whales in both areas travel north or south in the same months. So they never approach the Equator at the same time. And whales have been following these ancient routes for as long as they've been around.'

‘Round the world every year,' said the plumber's son, ‘be great if they could score frequent-flyer points.'

His school friends groaned and threatened to throw him overboard.

That evening it was clear and balmy, and Wally suggested that those who wanted to could sleep on deck in canvas hammocks. Mitchell, Holly and Tor agreed and after the others had gone to their bunks they settled into the comfortable slings and lay staring at the night sky.

‘This is so unbelievable to see stars – so many, so close,' said Tor. ‘Not like my home. I love the sun, hot weather. It will be hard to go home after being in Australia.'

‘How old are you, Tor? Do you have a career?' asked Holly.

‘I'm twenty-two. I am very interested in marine biology. I want to study the Great Barrier Reef. I've applied to James Cook University to do post-grad studies,' he said shyly.

They talked well into the night, enjoying the rising moon and starry vastness of the sky. They talked about islands, the reef, marine life, and eventually life at The Bay in response to questions from Tor.

‘In backpacker hostels everyone talks about visiting Beacon Bay,' he said. ‘It has to be one of the most famous places in Australia. I'd heard about it in hostels in Norway long before I started this trip. That started my interest, among other things. You're lucky to live there.'

They both urged him to stay with them in The Bay when his study schedule allowed him to travel.

The silences in the conversation grew longer and soon it was obvious Tor was sleeping. Holly felt herself drifting, the swaying of the hammock was deeply comforting. But then a faint sensation vibrated in her body, or was it her head? She waited and was soon aware of a low sound that sent shivers through her. She held her breath and listened. A feeling of such peace came to her that she felt like she was enveloped within it. The sounds seemed to come from a long way away, or from deep in the sea. They were unlike anything she had ever heard.

‘It's the humpbacks singing,' whispered Mitchell. ‘They'll be here tomorrow. You'll see. It will be wonderful.'

She lay listening to the mysterious singing of the great ocean creatures and remembered what Mitch had told her of how the whale songs evolved and changed, adding to their legends and history since the creation of the planet. Their singing went around the globe like a telegraphic message. Mitch had explained that a sound of this intensity emitted within sound-reflecting layers which occurred at certain depths could be heard by the human ear at a distance of well over 25,000 miles – the circumference of the earth. Holly had begun to wonder if it were possible these wise old creatures knew our story too? To Holly at that moment it all seemed possible, that she was a speck in a great universal connection between nature, the whales, dolphins and the universe. She fell into a deep, dreamless sleep with a sensation of being protected in some womblike place.

Holly had no idea how long she'd been asleep when her hammock was nudged and Tor's insistent voice broke into her consciousness. ‘Look. It is so beautiful.'

She sat up and stared at where he was pointing then turned to Mitchell. ‘Mitch, are you awake, look at that!'

‘Yes, isn't it wonderful. It's a moonbow. Not uncommon but very special,' he answered softly.

‘I have never heard of a night rainbow,' said Tor. ‘The lights of the aurora borealis are beautiful but not like this.'

‘It comes from the light of the moon instead of the sun,' said Mitchell.

In awe they looked at the pastel-coloured arch that stretched from horizon to horizon, until each fell asleep once again having shared a moment of great beauty.

The following morning was one Holly would never forget. The high-school kids spotted the first whale some distance away, and the crew let the
Oceania
drift. Wally got his video camera and Trish her stills camera to continue her ongoing photo ID research. ‘It's a young adult judging by that strong blow,' she said.

‘There's another!'

‘Look to the port side,' called Wally to the students who were at the starboard rail. They joined Mitch, Holly and Tor as a shimmering shape rose to the surface. Holly clutched Mitchell's arm when only fifty metres away a huge humpback broke the surface, slowly, gently, in an arching roll.

As the whale turned, lifting its flukes, Trish called to Wally, ‘It's Nala!'

Her camera shutter clicked and Mitchell explained, ‘Nala's an old female that Trish and Wally first saw ten years ago. She's also been seen in the Ross Sea.'

‘So they know them all by name?' Holly was entranced by the slow and graceful performance the whale seemed to be putting on especially for them.

‘Oh yes, every whale has individual markings. They know some by damage to their flukes – nips by orca whales – or by the barnacles and colour variations,' said Mitchell. ‘All the whale-watch organisations share information.'

The whale slowly submerged, and shortly resurfaced on the other side of the
Oceania
and put on another splendid show.

‘It's so big, yet it can move with the grace of a ballet dancer,' exclaimed Holly. ‘It's fantastic.'

She wished Melanie and Marcus were with her; tears were running down her face and she couldn't understand why. It wasn't just the immense size and gentleness, the obvious curiosity and delight the whale seemed to have in being there – for the whale had come to them – but the sense of some knowingness between this great intelligent creature and herself.

The students began to sing. It was a beautiful harmonising song they'd written about the sad saga of whales. The humpback lifted its head and using its long pectorals pushed itself towards the boat.

‘It's listening,' declared Mitchell.

Closer and closer it came. The kids leaned out over the boat rail, their arms outstretched, singing to the whale.

‘Kids from The Bay seem so different from the city kids my two went to school with,' Holly whispered to Mitchell.

‘Maybe. Trish told me that this lot are all in the school choir. They started working up songs about whales early in the term.'

‘Lovely touch,' said Holly in admiration. Then the whale nudged the boat, rubbing against the slightly rolling hull and everyone broke into spontaneous applause.

Next it pushed away and flipped on its back in a joyful breech, its massive tail flukes slapping the water and spraying them. Holly peered across the clear calm ocean. ‘Will it come back?' She desperately wanted Nala to return.

Before Mitchell could answer, Trish on the upper deck called, ‘Port side!' And there, breaking the surface came the leathery hump as it glided past with a
whoosh
of air. It turned and rolled and seemed to hover, its pectoral fins propelling it against the boat. Then it lifted its head and turned towards Holly, who instinctively leaned out towards it.

She found she was staring at the small bright eye that studied her as intensely as she watched it. They eyeballed each other and then the whale breathed out, a great gushy warm fish oily breath which hit Holly with a physical impact. She reached out and briefly touched the whale's head, amazed at its softness and how it stayed at the side of the boat.

Holly became totally absorbed by the incredible magic of the moment, unaware of the shouts of delight from those around her, unaware of anything but a growing sense of oneness with the whale. More tears rolled down her cheeks as the whale drifted away and then, as if waving farewell with its flukes, plunged from sight.

She stayed by the rail gazing into the empty ocean, feeling connected to the old female whale in some special way, until she felt Mitchell's arm around her shoulder. ‘Powerful stuff, isn't it?' he said softly. ‘The first encounter usually hits pretty hard. Tears are okay.'

She gave him a quick smile, grateful for the right words and the comfort of his arm. ‘Thanks,' was all she said, knowing that was all he needed to hear.

It wasn't till later that she realised she wasn't supposed to touch the whale, but she'd felt so drawn to the old female. There was something about that deep release of breath that made Holly think of a baby's first gasp of air, of how we can live without food or water but not air. Now she understood those stickers she'd seen in The Bay: ‘Don't Forget to Breathe'.

Mitchell snapped photographs of the whale as Holly wept with the intensity of her feelings. She could not believe more than an hour had passed since Nala had first approached the boat.

‘Where's Tor?' she eventually asked Mitchell. She had been aware of him standing near her when the whale first surfaced, but at some stage during the drama he had disappeared. Holly went below and tapped at the door of the cabin he shared with Mitchell. There was a muffled response and when she opened the door she saw Tor huddled in a corner of an upper bunk, his back to the porthole. He looked distressed and sat hugging his knees.

‘Tor, what is it?' she asked. ‘Are you all right?'

He shook his head. Then put his face on his knees, his shoulders shaking.

‘Can I get you something? Do you feel sick? I'll get Trish.'

‘No! It is nothing.' He brushed at his face and slid down from the bunk, avoiding Holly's eyes.

‘Wasn't the whale fantastic?' she said in an effort to boost his spirit, but got an anguished look in return.

‘That is the problem, why I am upset. I do not understand. I wanted so very much to see them.'

Trish appeared in the doorway. ‘Are you okay, Tor?' She was understanding and when he nodded she took his hand and glanced at Holly. ‘This is not uncommon, the experience of being with whales can have a profound effect on some people.'

‘I know, I didn't expect to be so overwhelmed,' agreed Holly.

Tor and Trish sat on a lower bunk.

He began to speak. ‘It is to do with my country, the killing of whales . . . it still goes on. I feel deeply ashamed. I once went to the coast where a pod of many whales had beached and were dying. There were people there, watching, like it was a picnic.' He lifted his tear-stained face. ‘I looked into the eyes of mother whales and their calves, and it was like they asked me to help and I could do nothing. Then I saw that these people had stubbed cigarette butts into their blowholes . . . and done other things. Why are people so cruel?'

‘Oh, how horrible,' said Holly.

Trish sighed. ‘We still have a long way to go to protect these amazing creatures. And still so much to learn. These encounters evoke deep feelings in people.'

‘I somehow feel guilty about whaling. Our people invented the harpoon and we have always been a big whaling nation,' said Tor. ‘Or whale killing nation,' he added.

‘You can't do anything about the past,' said Holly sympathetically. ‘Just think of the here and now, and what a joy it is for all of us to be able to celebrate the magnificence, the intelligence and connection we have with them today.'

‘You can come to terms with that past,' said Trish. ‘These same whales we see out here, so free and beautiful, are the descendants of those who escaped the slaughter in the old days.'

There was a shout from the deck as more whales were sighted.

Trish and Holly stood up. ‘Come on, Tor, let's enjoy this. They're bringing us a gift, I think,' said Holly, taking his hand.