A Whaling Story

Written: 6-25-24

Typed: 9-30-24

Pier:

            Wood creeks as a sailor’s boots clop against the wet planks of the pier. The small ripples crash against the pier’s struts while a group of seagulls caws atop a nearby shed. The sailor adjusts his bag hooked over his shoulder, taking in a deep breath of the early morning air as he clops closer to a small dinghy at the edge of the pier.

            Assorted fishermen and sailors watch him as he carefully places his things inside the tiny boat.

            “You really expect to go after Domingo in that dinghy,” a fisherman calls out to the sailor.

            “Aye,” the sailor responds while strapping his gear inside the boat.

            “Last I heard, Domingo sank an entire boat with a single slam of his tail,” another sailor reports.

            “I heard it was two boats, and he blocked out the sun when he breached,” another adds in a spooky tone.

            The sailor straps a harpoon, rope, and a hook to the boat, rubbing his nose from a light sniffle.

            “Aye Arlo, should we add the counter now or wait until sunset,” a fisherman shouts to a man sitting in a nearby bait shop.

            “I added it last night when I heard this fool was going on his own.” Arlo responds, gesturing to 42 hash marks on a board titled “Domingo’s Kill Count.”

            The sailor takes a seat in his dinghy, pulls his oars close to his chest, and adjusts his hat to block the rising sun over the horizon.

            “Safe fishing gentleman,” the sailor nods as he pulls away from the dock.

            “Twas nice knowing ya,” Arlo shouts from his store window.

            The other seamen remove their hats, placing them over their hearts as the sailor disappears into the sunlight.

Open Ocean:

            The sailor’s dinghy wades in the light current, bobbing in the waves as he scans the horizon. He double-checks his harpoon’s edge, and ties a knot on the hook with the long rope before reaching into a small bag, pulling out a pipe with tobacco, and lighting it.

            Several hours pass and the sailor remains upright and vigilant, his eyes constantly scanning around him. He pulls his bag onto his seat, and opens a small basket of bread, meat, and a thermos of fresh water, with a heart-shaped letter pinned to the red and white checker-board blanket.

                        - Dinner’s at 7, don’t be late - <3

                        - We made you a cookie for luck – A second letter reads in crayon with a drawing of the sailor and his family on a big boat together with a happy whale dancing on the ocean.

            The sailor smiles, taking a bite of the whale cookie while continuing to scan the surface.

            The sun hangs high overhead, baking the sailor in his dinghy. Still, he remains vigilant in his surroundings, taking sips of water to stay hydrated.

His body shifts as a breeze blows by and small vibrations rattle underneath the boat. He peers over the edge, seeing a school of fish racing to the surface and scurrying past. Looking forward, he spots several fish breaking the surface, but no sign of his fellow fisherman. He quickly grabs his harpoon, spearing several fish as they swim by, emptying them into the boat.

A spout of water bursts from the surface, throwing several fish into the air from the pressure. The sailor fixes his hat to his head, puts his knapsack away, and watches carefully as a massive whale tail reaches high into the air and slams the surface of the water. The impact sends a strong wave out, as the dinghy manages to remain top-right.

The sailor grabs a paddle, heaves it over his head, and slams it against the water’s surface.

The whale’s tail breaches the surface again, hangs for a moment, and then slams the water again, creating a larger wave that pours water into the tiny dinghy. The sailor shakes off the saltwater and strikes back by striking the water with his paddle again.

            The sailor grips the paddle as the whale dives beneath the waves. Scanning the surface, he slowly puts down the paddle and picks up his hook and slack from the rope. His legs are glued to the floor of his dinghy, displaying unwavering balance as his small vessel bobs amid the wake of the hard waves.

            From underfoot, he feels the pressure of water displacement, his boat slowly listing and moving as bubbles quickly rise from underneath. The sailor takes a deep breath, clenching his weapons tighter.

            The whale erupts from the surface, his body quickly blocking out the sun as it towers over the small dinghy. The sailor fixates his gaze, scanning the numerous scars upon the whale’s hide. Finally, his eyes fixated on what he was scanning for, a large harpoon embedded within the whale’s side.

            The sailor quickly flings the hook onto the harpoon and yanks it out of the whale’s side within seconds. The whale twitches from the sudden pain, contorting its body to fall away from the small dinghy. The boat nearly capsizes as the whale’s wake consumes the tiny craft, drenching the sailor in saltwater. The sailor pulls the rope back into the boat, reeling in his hook and harpoon wedged from within the whale.

            The whale gently floats to the surface, eyeing the sailor with a grimace. The sailor shows the whale the harpoon, before dropping it into the ocean. He sits back in his waterlogged boat, pulls up the oars, and starts rowing back to shore.