The Pacific Giants

by Jean Flitcroft

  Vanessa didn’t look up.

  “As a rule,” Lee continued, “I don’t talk about my job very much. I’ve already told you that this is a sensitive matter, and the less people know the better.” She paused, waiting for Vanessa to look up. “Frankie and Wayne would love to get hold of any gossip there might be, and I don’t need any more drama, do I?”

  Vanessa stood up and hugged Lee.

  “Sorry, Lee,” she said with feeling. “I’m just being silly. Of course I’d love to go out with Mr. Fox. I’ll find a snorkel and I’ll bring my sketchbook. Maybe I could get a loan of a wetsuit. Maybe the little monster downstairs would have one. It wouldn’t matter if it’s too short.”

  “Ah, yes. About Wayne.” Lee’s voice dropped, and Vanessa guessed there was something else coming. “The only way I could think to sort the little problem yesterday was to invite Wayne to go out whale-watching with Mr. Fox too.” Lee’s voice was full of apology this time. “Mrs. Bouche—Frankie—seemed to think it would be great for you both. That it would help iron out your differences.”

  Vanessa gave a hard little laugh. It would take more than a boat ride to do that. Should she tell Lee now about his spying on her and the stones in her shoes? What if Lee didn’t believe her? Better not. Maybe Wayne had done his worst already and he’d be better when he was away from his mother. She’d just have to get through it and enjoy it as best she could, she decided.

  “Oh, we’ll be fine together,” she said breezily. “Hopefully he’ll fall overboard and a whale will crush him or something.”

  CHAPTER 10

  On a Sunday morning in December 1933, Cyril Andrews and Norman Georgeson saw Caddy while they were duck hunting near South Pender Island. They called in the Justice of the Peace, Mr. G. F. Parkyn, who took down a sworn statement of what they had seen. About ten minutes later the creature appeared again close to the shore, and eleven people, including Mr. Parkyn, witnessed it.

  Vanessa got dressed and went down to breakfast. She felt a little anxious but she wasn’t sure why. Most likely it was the thought of spending the day with Wayne.

  As she walked through the house, Vanessa couldn’t help noticing that the place, although tidy and clean, looked a bit shabby and definitely in need of a lick of paint. There were no pictures on the walls, but there were photographs in silver frames everywhere—over the fireplace, on the piano, on the bookshelves. Vanessa stopped to examine them. They were mostly of the same three people: Frankie, slimmer and looking younger; Wayne as a chubby toddler; and a tall, thin man with gray hair who had a lovely warm smile. Frankie’s husband, probably.

  Frankie was in top form at breakfast. She told Vanessa all about her parents and how they had started the guesthouse over forty years ago. There was no gap in the conversation, and Vanessa could only gawp at the rising pile of pancakes.

  “Honestly, Frankie, I’ve heaps,” Vanessa murmured finally, putting her hand over her plate.

  “By the way, honey, I’ve got an extra wetsuit for you,” Frankie announced. “It may be a little big, but Lee thought it would be better than nothing.”

  “Oh, that’s great, Frankie,” Vanessa said. “Thanks so much.”

  “Wayne has his own, of course. He’s an exceptional swimmer. Not surprising, I suppose, given that he lives on an island and that his father is a famous free diver in these parts.”

  “What’s free diving, Frankie?”

  “I suppose you might say it’s deepwater diving without the scuba gear; not even fins—you go as deep as you can in one breath. Dangerous if you don’t train properly for it.”

  “How deep can he go?” Vanessa asked.

  “His record is 170 feet. But the best in the world is about 335.”

  “Wow, that’s incredible! I’d say ten feet would be my tops!”

  “Wayne will be just as good as his father, I expect. He’s got big lungs for his age and can hold his breath for over a minute already.”

  It would have been a perfect moment to ask whether the man in the photos was Wayne’s dad, but Vanessa was suddenly caught by a fit of the giggles at the idea of Wayne’s big lungs. She coughed to hide her amusement and then had to keep coughing when Frankie began to tap her on the back.

  “A glass of water?” Vanessa begged huskily in between coughs and splutters.

  When she had recovered, she helped Frankie to clear the table.

  “Here you go – wetsuit, flippers, snorkel, and lunch,” Frankie said, handing Vanessa a large straw bag. “I’ve put in plenty of snacks and drinks for you both and some nice chicken salad rolls.”

  She smiled so eagerly that Vanessa felt bad again briefly. But the feeling didn’t last long. Wayne strutted into the room, dressed in his wetsuit, complete with flippers, mask, and goggles.

  “Aren’t you ready yet?” he said rudely.

  Vanessa turned away, pulling a face, and found herself looking straight into the face of a small wiry man with a neatly trimmed mustache. It had to be Mr. Fox.

  After the introductions had been made, Mr. Fox told them that his boat was moored in the next bay. It was a ten-minute walk along the stony beach, so they should wear comfortable, nonslip shoes. Wayne changed out of his flippers and, to Vanessa’s relief, chatted away quite normally to Mr. Fox as they walked to the boat. He didn’t whine once.

  Vanessa found that she wasn’t really included in the conversation, so she dropped back a little to observe Mr. Fox better. She smiled. He did actually walk a bit like a fox. As he made his way quickly along the stony beach he looked agile and careful. In contrast, Wayne stomped beside him, stumbling in an effort to keep up. She wondered if Mr. Fox lived on Duquette Island and how well he knew Wayne.

  Vanessa felt a flutter of excitement in the pit of her stomach when she saw the boat for the first time. It was much bigger than she had imagined. More like a small trawler, although there were no fishing lines or nets visible. There was even a rubber dinghy tied up on the beach to allow them to get out to it. A tender, Mr. Fox said it was called.

  Vanessa would have been very happy with just the tender, although they would get much farther out in the trawler and there would be no possibility of a whale turning them over. She had read about things like that happening. In fact, a little part of her secretly wouldn’t have minded. She’d swum with something just as big in Loch Ness before and loved it!

  When they got onto the trawler, Mr. Fox handed them each a life jacket immediately.

  “Feel free to wander around the boat,” he said, “but you must wear the life jackets at all times and you must not stand on or lean over the rails. Understood?”

  He turned sharply, not expecting an answer, and went back down the steps to the tender.

  “I’m just going to tie the tender to the mooring buoy and then we’ll set off,” he called over his shoulder.

  “Can I help?” Vanessa asked.

  “You can if you can tie a decent bowline, little lady,” Mr. Fox said.

  Little lady? Her brothers would laugh. That was something she wasn’t used to being called.

  “It’s lucky I can, then.” She grinned up at him. “Reef, half-hitch, bowline.”

  Mr. Fox didn’t try to hide his surprise. “Wow. I guess your education system in Europe ain’t so fancy after all. Pretty hands-on, huh?”

  “If only,” Vanessa said wistfully. “I learnt none of that in school. All on the Internet—like everything else useful in life.”

  In the last couple of years Vanessa had, with the help of YouTube and various minority-interest websites, taught herself the art of knot-tying, which was followed by an intensive study of Morse code and, more recently, sign language.

  “I can tie all the knots she can,” Wayne piped up.

  Poor Wayne, Vanessa thought. He was just a baby, really, desperate to be the center of attention.

  The tender was tied up to the buoy with Vanessa’s bowline, which was checked and duly admired by Mr. Fox.

  “You haven’t skippered a fishing trawler b
efore, I suppose?” Mr. Fox said with a grin, as they walked back to the bridge.

  “Not yet,” Vanessa replied.

  “Let’s go to Governor Bay first. I saw a mother and her baby there on my way back from Brighton half an hour ago,” Mr. Fox said to Vanessa. “Where’s Wayne?” he said suddenly, scanning the boat. “He can’t be gone overboard already, surely. WAYNE!” he yelled.

  “I’m here,” Wayne called back, still not visible. “Just checking the tender,” he said, climbing back up the last step onto the deck of the trawler.

  “Good man,” Mr. Fox said hurriedly, throwing a glance at the little boat. “OK, let’s go.”

  CHAPTER 11

  The humpback whale is the fifth-largest animal on the planet. An adult weighs the same as eleven elephants, and yet they are the most acrobatic of all of the great whales, famous for breaching (jumping almost completely out of the water).

  The waves slapped against the bow of the boat as it cut through the water. Vanessa leaned into the wind. This was wonderful.

  Lee had said that the North Pacific whales were beginning to migrate up from the warm waters of Hawaii to spend the summer here, and that later in the summer there would be many more. Fingers crossed that they would actually see a whale up close today.

  They motored for about twenty minutes before Mr. Fox cut the engines.

  “It was around here that I saw them. Sometimes they’ll hang around for a bit if they are feeding. Keep watching out and you might see them blow.”

  Almost immediately, Wayne let out a shriek.

  “Look, I see one!” he said, pointing toward the stern of the boat.

  Wayne, of course, would have to be the first to see a whale.

  They moved quickly to the stern of the boat and waited. Vanessa held her breath and scanned the water, waiting for the large gray back to break the surface.

  “I did see one,” Wayne insisted when nothing appeared.

  “It’s probably gone down, Wayne,” Mr. Fox said. He turned to Vanessa. “They can hold their breath for half an hour or more, so they can be miles away by the time they surface again.”

  After another five minutes, Mr. Fox started the engines again and they moved off slowly.

  Vanessa felt a deep and satisfying delight at the scowl on Wayne’s face, but she managed not to crow.

  Face to the wind, they resumed their journey, while Mr. Fox pointed out the various islands and bays named after the English and Spanish explorers who arrived in the eighteenth century.

  “Before that point, it was a scattering of remote islands in the middle of nowhere. The Europeans brought civilization to the place and tried to educate the natives,” Mr. Fox said seriously.

  The way he said it made Vanessa feel very uncomfortable. Wasn’t that just like the Spanish conquistadors who wiped out the Aztecs, or the Europeans who did the same to the aboriginal tribes in Australia?

  “I don’t think they treated them very well, though, did they?” she said quietly, not at all sure she should be saying anything, but unable to stop herself.

  Mr. Fox looked mildly surprised and then smiled at her. “You’re right, of course,” he agreed. “Sometimes when we look back, progress can seem a bit ruthless even though it’s necessary.”

  Necessary? For what? For whom? Not the native peoples who had been living here, that was for sure. Vanessa opened her mouth to argue, but Wayne cut across her.

  “I’m hungry,” he whined. “You shouldn’t hog the lunch bag, Vanessa. Frankie meant us to share.”

  Vanessa shoved the bag at him.

  “Have as much as you like, Wayne,” she said through gritted teeth. “Just don’t choke on the sandwiches,” she added, dropping her voice.

  Wayne eyed her solemnly. “You know, you’re a very cranky person,” he said loudly.

  Luckily Mr. Fox intervened before the argument could escalate further.

  “Up ahead, starboard side,” he called urgently, pointing to the right. He turned the boat and then picked up speed.

  At first Vanessa could see nothing. Then in the distance she saw a fin appear out of the water, hesitate for a second, and begin slapping the surface of the water.

  “He’s pec slapping,” Mr. Fox shouted over the noise of the engine.

  Vanessa laughed. It looked so playful, like a toddler slapping the water in a bathtub.

  As they got closer, Mr. Fox cut the engines, and immediately a huge gray back broke the surface and rolled gracefully. Then another appeared beside it.

  Vanessa gasped. Their size was incredible, and the sight of them so close blew her mind. She really felt as if she was in the presence of something important, something prehistoric.

  “They’re humpback whales, probably males. See the one waving his tail at us? That means either he’s going straight down and will disappear or—”

  Mr. Fox didn’t have time to finish before the whale shot up vertically out of the water and landed on its back with a thunderous crash and a huge splash. “Or he’ll breach,” Mr. Fox finished with a grin.

  “Oh my God!” Vanessa exclaimed. She had seen it on wildlife programs, but this wasn’t the same. The thunderous noise, the beauty of their movement, the power needed to jump so high. It was breathtaking.

  “Imagine,” Vanessa whispered to herself. “I’m in British Columbia, watching humpbacks play right in front of me.” When Vanessa did this, it was the mental equivalent of pinching herself. Not only did it help her mark the moment as a permanent memory, but she actually enjoyed the words themselves: the foreignness of them thrilled her—British Columbia, humpbacks—it was so unbelievable.

  She had forgotten about Wayne.

  “Why are you talking to yourself, Vanessa?” Wayne said loudly. “It’s the first sign of madness, you know.”

  He grinned slyly at her, and Vanessa could have sworn he gave a conspiratorial wink to Mr. Fox.

  “Shut up, you little twit,” Vanessa said irritably. Wayne really could spoil any occasion.

  Mr. Fox looked at her sharply.

  “Sorry,” she said quickly. “Tetchy because I’m tired. Dreamt about people hiding in bushes and eavesdropping,” she added pointedly.

  This caused Wayne to grin even harder.

  Just as Vanessa turned away, she thought she saw Mr. Fox give Wayne a little nod. Vanessa stared. Were they up to something? No, she scolded herself, she was being silly. She really needed to calm down a bit and not let Wayne get to her.

  The whales, which had disappeared for a while, now surfaced again. They were even closer this time, cutting across the bow of the stationary boat, their backs rising and submerging in the water, spray billowing from their spout holes. And then the magic happened—a third, tiny whale swam out from beneath the larger one.

  “Look, there’s a baby!” Wayne shouted.

  “Oh my God, a whole family,” Vanessa said wistfully. Tears sprang unexpectedly to her eyes, taking her by surprise. She wiped them away quickly before they could get a hold. Luckily it was windy.

  “Humpbacks don’t tend to travel in families,” Mr. Fox said. “It’s usually the mother and the baby with another female. The males travel in packs. Bit like humans, I suppose,” he added with a smirk.

  The whales swam around the boat for a while, the baby swimming beneath the mother, the companion staying close. Vanessa wondered what it would be like to swim with the whales.

  As she watched they sank slowly, as one, beneath the surface. It was only then that Vanessa noticed that Mr. Fox was speaking quietly into the handset of the radio. Vanessa strained to hear what he was saying, but the sound of Wayne munching his way through a bag of potato chips made it impossible.

  CHAPTER 12

  In January 1992 Dorothy Sinclair saw a monster in Gray’s Harbor. “The long slender neck rose, I would say, five or six feet in the air, and the thing that struck me was that incredible dignity!”

  “Maybe we’ll move on and find some others,” Mr. Fox suggested finally. He started the engine. �
��I think we’ll head up to Gray’s Harbor. It’s a nice place if you want to go for a swim. You can change into your wet-suit in the cabin if you like, Vanessa.”

  Vanessa put on the wetsuit and then ate her chicken roll before Wayne could polish off everything in the bag. All the snacks and treats were gone already, she noticed, and the fizzy drinks too. There was just a single bottle of water left, but Vanessa didn’t really mind. The whales were all that mattered.

  Mr. Fox cut the engine as they approached an inlet.

  “Think I’ll make a cup of coffee and have something to eat too,” he said. “Don’t get into the water until I’m ready.”

  Vanessa went to the back of the boat and looked up at the craggy cliffs and the strangely deformed-looking trees that clung to the edges. Then a sudden movement in the water caught her eye. There was something moving just below the surface. Could it be another whale?

  Vanessa froze. Not a whale. What on earth was it?

  She could make out a long neck and a large head just under the surface. A moray eel? A huge bird diving for fish? The creature submerged fully and Vanessa sighed heavily. Now she’d never know.

  “Did you see something?” Mr. Fox called out to Vanessa.

  “Just a bird,” she called back, as casually as she could, although her heart was thumping in her chest. There was something moving in the water again. It was back, whatever it was!

  Vanessa gripped the handrail and stared. What was it? A seal didn’t have a long neck like that. And the head! She’d never seen anything like it before. It was extraordinary—like a horse’s head with its nose squished in.

  Vanessa froze as the creature turned, and she saw its bulging black eyes and two small bumps near the top of its head. Ears? Horns? Her camera was in her backpack, but she didn’t dare move in case she missed anything.

  “You’ve seen something back there, haven’t you?” Wayne called to her from the front, making her start.

  At that very moment, the creature moved a little in the water and Vanessa saw a number of large humps—no, not humps, really—more like the vertical coils of a giant snake as it moves.