Look into the Eye

by Jennifer Barrett

  But Takumi didn’t laugh. He immediately stiffened up, and glared straight at me. “Richard Blake, you bring great dishonour to my family.”

  “What? No, sorry, I didn’t mean anything by it, man.”

  Shit, I’ve done it now, I thought.

  “Takumi – I know that’s your name.” I looked at Ray for a dig-out, but he just shrugged and looked down at the ground. Then he looked slowly up and caught Takumi’s eye, and they both burst out laughing.

  Dickheads!

  “Yeah, yeah, yeah. Hilarious. You’re funny guys,” I said, more annoyed with myself for being such a twat as to fall for the new-guy joke.

  The two just went on laughing. Takumi had tears rolling down his cheeks as he held his stomach. “You should have seen your face, Richard – you looked so worried.” He almost choked he was laughing so hard.

  I just nodded, and forced a smile. It wasn’t that funny. Oh well, at least the ice was broken.

  I let them laugh it up and turned around.

  Behind me in the queue was the ship’s researcher, Hilary, a cheery, skinny marine biologist from Iceland. She wore the requisite whale-themed T-shirt, and her long mousey blonde hair was caught up in a messy pony-tail. She had a pencil behind one ear.

  They ran out of food just before we got served so we had to wait for fresh supplies to be brought through from the galley, so I asked Hilary about her work.

  “I’m tracking and researching humpback whales,” she said. “The project I’m working on is actually being sponsored by Greenpeace’s online supporters – they’ve been fundraising and sending donations in to keep us going.”

  I nodded and tried to look interested, but I was distracted by the new batch of chicken stew that had just arrived.

  “Our project provides an alternative to the scientific research methods of the Japanese – where the whales are killed and a post mortem carried out. We track the whales’ migratory movements through tagging, and we monitor their behaviour and breeding patterns – it’s all harmless for the whales and we’re getting some interesting results.”

  “Mmm, that’s good,” I said, spooning a large portion of stew onto some rice on my plate, whale research the last thing on my mind.

  We all sat down at a table with Jules. I’d pretty much had it with being social, so I just ate my food and listened to them talk amongst themselves. It seemed that George and Ally had decided to abandon efforts to try to locate the whaling fleet again and tail them down to Antarctica. They felt it could waste too much fuel and time. Instead, they decided to change tactics, and to refocus the campaign spotlight on direct action – intercepting the whaling fleet in the act of whaling in Antarctica. So they had decided to get down to the Southern Ocean as quickly as possible. It was a risk apparently – it could prove a lot harder to locate the whaling fleet in Antarctica as the Illuminar hadn’t stuck with them from the start, but the crew seemed cautiously optimistic that they had the ability to find the fleet again using their helicopter and sophisticated radar equipment. So the plan was to head for Auckland, and to refuel there before finally heading down to the Antarctic shelf.

  This was all good news for me – it would cut some time off my leg of the trip, even if it did mean that I most likely wouldn’t get to actually see the whaling fleet.

  “It should only take about ten to fourteen days in total to get to Auckland now, depending on the winds of course,” Ray was saying.

  Most excellent. I could get these features written in that time, get off this tug in Auckland, and get back to Dublin to salvage the wreckage of my career. The thought cheered me up a bit and I cleared my plate and went up for seconds.

  They were still talking about the campaign when I got back.

  “So it’s definitely going to be Auckland where we pick up the Japanese television crew?” asked Takumi.

  “Yeah. Can you confirm that with them?” said Ray.

  Takumi took a very small notebook and pen out of his shirt pocket. He slowly wrote a few Japanese symbols on the page in meticulous penmanship, then put the lid back on the pen and slid it back in the side of the notebook. Every move he made was definitive and thorough – the guy was so together that he made me feel like a total scruff. I rubbed my coarse chin, and felt my belly spilling out over the top of my combats. Maybe I should cut out second portions for the rest of the trip, and take a shave after dinner.

  “So, it’s a Japanese TV crew you have joining the ship?” I asked Takumi. “I wouldn’t have thought there would be much appetite in Japan for this issue?”

  Takumi put his notebook back in his pocket. “It is changing in my country, Richard.” He looked at Ray, who nodded to him to go on. Takumi’s whole demeanour changed – there was no fooling around this time – the whaling issue was clearly something the crew took very seriously. “We’ve seen big increase in media interest in my country over last two years. Many Japanese people love whales and want protect them – but they do not know full detail of whaling in Southern Ocean. They do not know Japanese government subsidise whaling activities with the tax money of my people.”

  “I didn’t realise that either.” I took my own notebook out of my back pocket to make some notes.

  “Yes,” Takumi nodded. “Is only a small group of people involved in whaling industry, and Japanese people only now beginning to understand potential damage it cause reputation of whole of our country abroad. Our businesses also starting to get concerned about effect on international trade relations. So we work on this expedition, and on land in Japan, to increase Japanese media coverage of the issue. We want expose the corruption, and wasteful nature of whaling industry. And I want show Government and Japanese people that is possible study whales without necessary to kill.” He looked around at Hilary, Ray and Jules. “I think we are starting to make difference?”

  “Definitely,” said Ray. “This was the first year that the whaling fleet left port without a big ceremony. They wanted the departure to be invisible, to avoid the international media. And this year, the UK, United States, New Zealand, Australia, even the European Commission, have called on Japan to stop hunting. If we can just get the Japanese people to join them, we think we could really see an end to this someday.” Ray put his arm around Takumi’s shoulder. “And this guy, and his colleagues back on land in Japan, are our secret weapons. The Japanese people seem to be beginning to listen to us now – it makes a difference to be hearing the message from one of their own.”

  Sinéad arrived at the table with her dish of food. “Any room there for your wife? Or have you completely thrown me over for Takumi?” She squeezed in between them on the bench opposite me.

  “Thanks for dinner, love, superb as always,” Ray said and gave her a high-volume slobber of a kiss.

  “Maybe the Japanese attitude could be an angle for one of my features?” I said to Takumi.

  He nodded.

  “And maybe I could work in some information about your project too, Hilary?”

  “Ooh, fantastic! Thanks, Richard,” said Hilary. “I’ll make sure to give you a shout next time we get out to work with the whales themselves.”

  “That’d be great thanks.” After all, I was damned if I was focusing the whole thing on the two sickening honeymooners. Sinéad and Ray were whispering and giggling to each other – it was enough to put anyone off their chicken stew.

  “We’ve also been working on some angles for the humpback media and PR campaign,” said Jules. “There’s quite a lot going on at the moment.”

  “Great – well, I have to write at least two features, so it sounds like there’s a few hot issues to –”

  I was interrupted by Ally, who was standing up at the next table and had started to bang a spoon on a metal bowl to get everyone’s attention. “All right, guys – after wash-up we’re going to be showing the new campaign video down in the lounge. Can everyone who’s not on duty report down to check it out? Ray, Jules and the team back at Greenpeace International have worked hard on this one and
we’re very pleased with the result. We’re going to be releasing it to the international media next week so we’d like to get your feedback on it before then.”

  The journalist in me knew I should go to watch the video and try to start getting to grips with the campaign, but the lazy bugger in me just wanted to go back to my cabin to sleep off my jetlag.

  Ray, Jules and Takumi stood up when Ally finished speaking, and started to gather up the dishes.

  “See you downstairs for video, Richard,” Takumi said, catching me off guard.

  “Huh? Eh yeah, okay, see you down there, man,” I answered before I knew what I was saying.

  Ah, sod it, I thought. No harm in having a drink with them before hitting the sack, I guess.

  The video opened with a sequence of a humpback whale and her calf swimming underwater. The sea was so clear that you could make out every feature of both whales – even the bumps and scratches on their skin. The calf was swimming along on top of its mother’s back one minute, the next he was rolling off and gliding along underneath her.

  Ray’s voice came in over the pictures: “Humpback whales are one of the world’s best-loved breeds of whales. Known for their acrobatic skills, they have thrilled millions of people around the world. But the humpback whale is now considered vulnerable to extinction. There are approximately only 80,000 left in the world today.”

  Then the sound of the whales took over. It sounded quite eerie at first – like a series of high-pitched grunts, squeals and groans. I sat forward to try to make them out. But without warning, the images switched to a fast-moving montage of clips – picture after picture of harpoons being shot, struggling whales and the chilling reality of the blood-red sea.

  I was actually pretty shocked. I knew this was going on, I knew whales were being killed, but I’d never thought about what that really meant. It wasn’t pleasant – these animals died hard. I watched as one whale was hit by a harpoon, then struggled and flailed about manically for what seemed like a very long time, before finally giving up. Then the carcass was hauled up onto the ship on a winch – a final humiliating act of cruelty. I looked around the room. Everyone looked shaken; even the hard-nosed Captain George was wiping an eye.

  Then came a sequence of images of the Greenpeace inflatable speedboats – they were dwarfed beside the whaling ships which towered above them in the water, but regardless they were zipping in and out between the ships and the whales. The Greenpeace crew in the inflatables were being pounded with water cannons and jets from the ships as a loud Japanese voice repeatedly ordered them to stay away from the ship and to stop interfering with their work – over and over again the voice droned through a loudspeaker.

  In the next scene some of the Greenpeace crew were standing up in the inflatables, holding up placards saying Shame and Research? beside the whaling ships. Takumi was one of them: he was holding up a Japanese character painted on a large sign.

  He was sitting beside me so I turned and asked him: “What does it mean?”

  “It means fake,” he said. “It refers to their scientific whaling pretext.”

  The footage finally switched back to the earlier sequence – the mother and calf swimming underwater. I watched them with a feeling of unease this time, almost wanting to stand up and shout at the screen ‘Get the hell out of there, lads!’ I looked around the room again. There were a couple of criers – Sinéad was sniffing beside Ray, and George was now openly crying and blowing his nose.

  The video finished, and Ray turned to me. “So what did you think?”

  “Eh yeah.” I nodded a few times to get myself together, then coughed to clear my throat. “All a bit shocking though, man. Hard enough to watch, but well made.”

  “Thanks,” said Ray. “The humpbacks are going to be a big focus for us over the coming weeks. There’s been huge public outcry about their inclusion in the hunt this year. You’ve joined the Illuminar at a good time, Richard – we’ll be upping the campaign pressure from here on out. I think – well, at least I hope – that there’s going to be a lot of attention on this story, so it’d be great if you could write about it in one of your features – useful to get an outside view on it. If it’s any good then we’ll send it out to our international media contacts.”

  I hadn’t had any international recognition since the whale-in-the-Thames story, and I knew a successful feature or two would do my career no harm. What was it with me and whales though?

  “Course I know Aunt Edie wants you to write about Sinéad and me,” Ray was saying, “but I think the humpback campaign would be more interesting, don’t you?”

  I nodded. “Yeah, but maybe we can work it all in together, keep the old lady sweet, and still raise some awareness for your campaign.”

  Ray smiled. “You’re a wise man, Richard, I wouldn’t want to get on the wrong side of Aunt Edie. We can start work in the morning after my watch. I’ll show you more of what we’re working on at the moment, take it from there.”

  “Good stuff, man.”

  I sat back in my seat, and cracked open another beer. Right, Edith, I thought. You asked for a couple of good features. Well, my evil tormentor, you’re going to get exactly that, and more besides. I’ll show you that Richard Blake has still got what it takes. You might be expecting me to fall flat on my face out here, but you’ve got a surprise in store. I’m going to write the best bloody series of features I’ve ever written in my whole damned life. I’ll wipe the floor with Jeff, and any other pretender to my job. “Mwah ha ha ha ha!”

  “What’s that?” Ray asked.

  I realised I’d actually pantomime-laughed out loud. “Nothing, man, sorry.”

  I looked back up at the screen where they’d started to play some more whale footage.

  And if it could help those poor suckers in the process, so much the better.

  I reached for my notebook and clicked on my pen. “Hey, Ray, why wait till morning, man? Tell me, why did the Japanese decide to include the humpbacks in the hunt again this year?”

  Chapter 11

  MELANIE

  It was a long way to go to see whales. In fact it was a long way to go to see anything. I’d been travelling for nine hours and had already taken a taxi, an airport bus and two flights to get as far as the Norwegian capital of Oslo. I sat in a café in the airport sipping a cappuccino, and waiting for my third flight of the day – to Evenes. After that I still had a ferry ride and another bus trip before I would get to Tysfjord, my final destination. I was tired, but so happy.

  Of course Marcus hadn’t been one bit happy when I told him that I’d be taking a few days off. He’d scowled and muttered about there not being enough time as it was to prepare for the next board meeting. But it was only a couple of days, and even he couldn’t refuse me that. And so I used the money I’d been saving to do up the bathroom and I’d done it – for four glorious days I had escaped.

  Not only did I not have to think about work for four whole days, but I would also soon be getting to see the fjords and those killer whales.

  I smiled to myself, stretched, and looked up at the departures board.

  The entrance to my gate was quite close, so I had time to stop and buy a glossy magazine as I sauntered towards it. I was walking along and glancing at the mindless headlines on the front cover, when I heard my flight announced. I went to put the magazine away but dropped it when I opened my bag. As I bent down to pick it up, I noticed some large words in gold lettering written on the floor tiles in some sort of art fixture. I stood up and took a step back to read what it said:

  If you cannot be

  Where you are

  Go to where you can be

  And I will be there waiting for you

  I turned around and strained to look back at the floor behind me in the terminal building to see if there were other quotes I hadn’t noticed, but there were so many people milling around that I couldn’t really see the rest of the floor from where I stood. Just these lines:

  I stood there and read
it again.

  If you cannot be

  Where you are

  That’s it – that’s exactly my problem, I thought. I can’t seem to rest and just be where I am. I’m spending every minute of every day trying to get somewhere else – that’s what Father O’Mara meant, I suppose. And it’s probably why I’m already feeling so relieved to be here, away from the chaos of my life.

  I read the lines again.

  Go to where you can be

  Norway maybe?

  And I will be there waiting for you

  Who’s I?

  Just then somebody bumped into me. I looked around and realised where I was. I was getting a few strange looks, and I had a flight to catch, so I tucked my magazine into my bag and walked on to find my gate.

  Tysfjord Inn was a welcoming, down-to-earth lodge hotel in a beautiful waterside setting. I arrived there with a coach-load of fellow tourists just after ten o’clock. It was very dark outside but there was a glimmer of light coming from the moon and I could just about make out some mountains and a small bay behind the building. Just inside the entrance, a somewhat intimidating ten-foot-high stuffed polar bear stood watch over the arriving guests. It added to the atmosphere, but nonetheless I scuttled past him to the reception as fast as possible.

  While I waited my turn to check in, I scanned the foyer. Beside the reception desk was an unassuming, cosy bar area where a big log fire was burning furiously in the grate. I imagined myself warming up and enjoying a nice drink in there after a chilly day out at sea. There was also a small gift shop opposite the reception area which was still open and selling the requisite postcards, T-shirts and souvenirs.

  I must stock up on a few of those stuffed orcas for the nieces and nephews before I leave, I thought.

  “Long line, isn’t it?” the woman in front of me in the queue said, interrupting my thoughts.

  “Yes, it sure is,” I said, instantly intrigued by her straight, snow-white hair, which she wore loose over her shoulders. It was so long that it almost reached her waist. She appeared to be in her late fifties, or early sixties, I couldn’t be sure. She looked great anyway. Her face was almost completely free of lines, and if it hadn’t been for her waist-length long white hair and her hands, I would have thought she was a lot younger.