by Philip Roy
“Okay.” He looked around. “Is this all there is?”
“Yes.”
“Okay.”
“If you tell me when you have to go, I’ll make sure to look the other way.”
“I have to go now.”
“Oh.” I turned around.
“Alfred?”
“Yes?”
“What if I get sick?”
“Are you sick?”
“No, but what if I get sick, do I throw up in the same bucket?”
“Yes. That’s the only one.”
“Oh. I hope I don’t get sick.”
“Me, too. You should always clean the bucket as soon as you use it…I mean, as soon as we are on the surface.”
“How do I clean it?”
“You tie it to this rope, climb the portal, open the hatch, and throw it into the sea. It’s a good idea to drag it through the water for a few minutes. The salt water helps keep it clean. And that reminds me to tell you about the most important rule on the sub.”
“What’s that?”
“Before you ever climb out of the portal, you must always strap on the harness that’s hanging there. That’s the unbreakable rule, and believe me, it’s important. Why don’t you go and practise doing that now? I’ll surface the sub.”
“Can I use the bucket first?”
“Oh, yah. Sorry.”
“That’s okay.”
There was only one harness. But I had lots of rope, so, while Merwin was using the bucket, I fashioned a makeshift harness out of rope. Then I secured it to a ten-foot length of rope, and that was the harness I would use.
Five miles offshore, we surfaced before the sun had broken the horizon. I showed Merwin how to wear the harness, and he climbed out of the portal with the sealed bucket in one hand. I followed him, wearing the other harness, and Seaweed followed me, then turned around and went back inside. It was still too dark for him to see the shore, and the wind was gusting. Merwin looked up at the dark sky. It was filled with stars. His face was lit with wonder.
“This is truly awesome.”
I nodded. “It’s one of the great things about travelling in a sub—you see the most amazing skies. Be careful when you open the bucket.”
“Okay.”
“And make sure to hold on to a handle with one hand when you swing it. It’s easier than you think to fall in the sea.”
“Okay. This is so great, Alfred. I’m so happy to be here.”
“I’m glad.” I watched as he leaned over and grabbed a handle on the portal. He put the bucket down by his feet and tried to open the lid with his other hand. It looked awkward. He should have opened the lid first. Then, when he stood up, he lost his balance as a rogue wave rocked the sub. He attempted to throw the bucket anyway, tossing it into the wind, but it was quickly flung back at him, hitting him on the shoulder and knocking his grip free from the handle. I ducked as the bucket bounced through the air. Merwin made a desperate grab for it, missed, and went flying over the side with a big splash.
I didn’t jump in after him. I knew he was wearing the harness, and I wanted to see how well he would handle the situation. He had claimed to be a good swimmer.
“Whoa!” he yelled. “It’s cold!”
“I bet.”
“How do you climb up this thing?”
“There are handles on the side.”
“I can’t see them. It’s too dark!”
“Feel for them.”
I waited. I could hear him splashing around. Eventually, he found them, and slowly pulled himself up.
“Well…that was refreshing.” He handed me the bucket. “I think it’s clean now.”
Protected from the open sea, Cloudy Bay was calm and shallow, with a sandy floor in places, which was perfect for teaching Merwin how to dive and surface. The beach was sandy, too, and long and wide, which was great for Hollie. As much as he enjoyed tramping around in cities, his favourite place to run was on a sandy beach. On top of that, the bay was secluded. There was not a soul in sight.
Normally at a beach I’d drop anchor, inflate the rubber dinghy, and paddle to shore. But halfway around the bay was a natural breakwater that jutted out about fifty feet or so, and the water there was thirty feet deep, so we tied up, climbed out, and walked over the rocks to the sand. We never bothered to shut the hatch because there were no waves, rain, or people around. I was happy to let the sub air out anyway. It smelled stronger with two people in it.
Hollie hit the sand running, and grabbed the first stick he saw. Seaweed took off in search of crabs, and Merwin and I strolled down the beach. On the way, I ate two of the bananas and three of the oranges that had been bumping against my head. Merwin ate some kiwi and a mango. He was feeling deeply inspired. His eyes were all glossy and happy.
“Alfred?”
“Yes?”
“This is a great life.”
“Yes, it is.”
Chapter Twenty-one
I WAS WOKEN BY RADAR. Two days had passed since we left Cloudy Bay for the open sea, although each day we returned to shore to spend a few hours on the beach. Merwin complained that we weren’t sailing to deeper water, but I wasn’t going to deny Hollie his runs on the beach.
The first night we had slept on shore, but the second night we were out of sight of land, and went to sleep with the hatch wide open, beneath a starry sky. We were also outside of the busy shipping lane, so I wasn’t worried about being struck by another vessel in the middle of the night. I trusted myself to hear the radar if it beeped.
I saw the faint reflection of light bounce off the wall like a puff of green smoke. Everyone on the sub was sleeping. Hollie was curled up on his blanket. Running on the beach for hours each day had worn him out. Seaweed sat as still as a stone. Lights and sounds meant nothing to him if they were not accompanied by the sight or smell of food. Merwin was sprawled on the floor of the bow on his sleeping bag. One of his legs was dangling ungracefully in the pocket of the observation window, his head was lying crooked, his mouth was gaping open, and he was snoring like a buffalo.
I raised my head. Probably it was a freighter coming wide around the shipping lane, but still heading towards Hobart. That it wasn’t in the normal shipping route didn’t concern me; captains will change course for any number of reasons. What did concern me was the possibility that she was a naval vessel, or coast guard. Did she know we were here, or was it just a coincidence? Well, she knew we were here now, of course, just as we knew she was there. I slipped out of bed. I figured I’d better see which way she was heading exactly. I didn’t want to get run over by a freighter in the middle of the night.
Moving through the dark, I tilted my head to avoid hitting a bag of oranges, and got struck in the eye by the end of a banana. “Ouch!” Merwin must have moved things around on his way to bed. My cry woke him up.
“What’s up?”
I found the radar screen, rubbed my eye, and took a glance. “There’s another vessel in the water. It’s probably nothing. Did you move the bananas?”
“Yeah. Sorry. I was hungry.”
I stared at the screen. The vessel was eight miles west. She was not coming our way. Merwin got to his feet and came over. He looked excited. “What is it?”
“It’s nothing. She’s not coming our way. We can go back to bed.”
“Where is she going?”
I looked at the screen again. “South.”
“Due south?”
“Yes. Looks like it.”
“So she’s going to the Antarctic then?”
“I don’t know. Maybe.”
“There’s nowhere else to go if you’re heading south.”
“I suppose so.” I was ready to go back to bed.
“She must be another tanker, Alfred. She’s going to refuel the whaling ships.”
“What? No way. You can’t know that.”
“She must be, Alfred. Who else would be heading there?”
“Lots of ships: research vessels, icebreakers, the coas
t guard…”
Merwin shook his head. “Not now. Not right now. I know because I follow the marine news. There’s nobody heading to the Antarctic now. It must be another tanker that’s sneaking down there, hoping nobody will see her. We should go after her, Alfred.”
I shook my head. “No way. We probably couldn’t even catch her, and she’s probably not a tanker anyway.”
“But what if she is, Alfred?”
I shrugged. “There’s nothing we can do about it anyway.”
“Maybe there is, though.” Man, Merwin was determined.
“How? What could we possibly do?”
“I don’t know. But we won’t find out unless we try.”
“It’s crazy.”
“Maybe it’s crazy, but the Sea Shepherd Society is down there. And they’re saving whales. Maybe you have to be a little crazy to do that, but they’re doing it.”
I stared at the screen and sighed. The vessel was moving steadily, not fast. Maybe we could catch up to her, I wasn’t sure. It would take hours to find out. And all of that time, we’d be heading due south, which was exactly what Merwin wanted in the first place.
“What have we got to lose? What are we doing that’s so important we can’t follow her to see what she’s up to?”
He was right again. “Okay. We’ll try to get close enough to see what kind of vessel she is.”
“She’s a tanker. I can feel it in my gut.”
The moment we started our engine and began to chase the unknown vessel, she knew we were coming. She would know that because she’d see a little blinking dot on her radar that was now following her, very slowly getting closer. And that little dot was us.
If I were her, and saw another vessel coming after us, I’d change my course, and watch to see if my chaser changed course. That’s what I would expect this vessel to do, too, if she were a naval ship, or coast guard. But she never altered her course, nor her speed. Her behaviour was what you’d expect of a tanker, in fact—slow, steady, and unchanging. Tankers pick up speed and slow down very gradually. They don’t like to turn, and do it with great difficulty. I pointed these things out to Merwin just for his instruction. He didn’t need any convincing that she was a tanker.
But we were gaining on her at a painfully slow rate. After five hours at our top speed of twenty-one knots, we were still five miles behind, and couldn’t spot her through the binoculars yet, which was another indication she might be a tanker— heavy with oil and riding low in the water.
Another five hours later, I heard Merwin holler from the portal, where he had been leaning against the open hatch for hours, with the cold wind blowing in his face. “I see her! I see her! There she is!”
I went to the bottom of the ladder and looked up. “Let me see.”
Merwin climbed out to make room for me to come up. He was wearing the harness. I was surprised to feel how cold the air had become. We had been sailing south for ten hours, which meant we had come over two hundred miles closer to the Antarctic. Merwin’s face was pink with windburn, and his lips were blue. It was time for him to come inside. He handed me the binoculars, and I took a glance. As I scanned the line of the horizon I saw a bump. Focussing carefully, I could just make out the fat bridge of a tanker. Merwin’s gut feeling had been correct. I nodded my head. “Yup. There she is. Looks like a tanker to me.”
“I told you!”
“You were right.”
“It had to be. She’s on her way to refuel the whalers. We’ve got to stop her, Alfred.”
“Stop her? What are you talking about? We can’t stop her. That would be like an ant trying to stop an elephant.”
“Think of David and Goliath.”
“Okay, but we don’t have a slingshot that would put a dent in that hull. Besides, she’s carrying oil, don’t forget. The last thing we’d ever want to do is cause her to have an accident.”
“I know. That’s the whole reason tankers are not allowed below the 60-degree latitude line, because the Southern Ocean is a sanctuary, and an oil spill would be catastrophic. So she shouldn’t be going there. But that’s where she’s heading, Alfred. She’s going where she’s not allowed to go. Don’t you think that gives us the right to try and stop her?”
“I suppose so, but how?”
“I don’t know, but I don’t want to give up before we even try.”
We stood and stared at the horizon, where, without binoculars, the tanker was just a speck among ribbons of water. The sea was growing rougher. It was cold, and it looked ugly. I turned towards Merwin. He was shivering.
“Time to get inside and warm up,” I said.
“Nah, I’m good.”
No, he wasn’t. “Inside,” I said with a friendly tone. “Captain’s orders.”
He started to raise the binoculars. “I’m just going to…”
I grabbed his arm. He turned and looked at me with surprise.
“Get inside,” I said firmly. “That’s an order.” I reached my hand for the binoculars. He passed them to me and dropped his head.
“I’m sorry. Okay, I’ll get inside.”
I moved out of the way to let him climb in. Thank Heavens he did; I didn’t know what I would have done if he hadn’t.
Chapter Twenty-two
EVERY MILE SOUTH REALLY was a mile colder and more dangerous, and the change came quickly sailing near top speed, and not stopping, because the tanker never stopped. If we let her go out of radar range, we’d never find her again.
That meant we had to take turns sleeping, and keeping an eye on the ship. I decided to take first watch, and let Merwin sleep. Fortunately I didn’t have to argue with him about it because he fell asleep during supper. He was drinking soup out of a metal bowl, and crunching four-day-old bread when I heard the bowl rattle against the observation window. He must have been deeply exhausted because he fell asleep in the middle of a sentence, too. I put his pillow under his head, lifted his sleeping bag over him, and checked to see that his mouth was free of bread. That was easy to do because he slept with his mouth wide open. If he slept like that in the woods, he must have swallowed a lot of flies.
Over the next ten hours, with the current behind us, we travelled almost two hundred miles, and narrowed the distance between the tanker and us to two miles. She wasn’t very big, as tankers go, but was carrying plenty of oil to refuel the Japanese whaling fleet. The sun went down, and then, just a couple of hours later, it came right back up. As at the North Pole, the South Pole had twenty-four hours of sunlight on a summer’s day, and twenty-four hours of darkness on a winter’s day. We were still outside the Antarctic Circle, but close enough to experience short nights, and very cold air and water. I wondered if we would run into growlers, those treacherous chunks of ice that break off from icebergs and float just beneath the surface, invisible and deadly. We had hit several of them in the Arctic, and although the sub was designed to bounce when it struck something, rather than dent or crack, we all received bruises from being thrown around inside. I banged my mouth against the periscope one time, and put my teeth through my lip.
But we hadn’t sailed far enough south yet to run into growlers. We came upon something else though, or, I should say, it came upon us. It was travelling beside us and I didn’t even know it.
I was leaning against the hatch, watching the moon and stars, when there was a blast of air, and ocean spray in my face. I knew right away what it was. When the sun came up and turned the sea into a blazing carpet of orange, I saw a large blue whale swimming along beside us. Then I noticed that there were two: mother and baby. The baby was almost twice the size of the sub, so it wasn’t a newborn. The mother was twice as big as that.
They swam beside us for hours. They’d disappear for a while, and then come back. When the sun rose higher, I saw them up close, because they swam so near I could almost have reached over and touched them. I saw their eyes, and they saw me, and I knew that they were saying hello. I could feel it. So I said hello back. Then I brought Hollie out. He had
seen whales before, and was fascinated by them, but I think the whales were even more fascinated by him. They stared at him with such intensity. And when he barked, the mother whale slapped her tail on the water. If that wasn’t a greeting, I didn’t know what was.
A few hours later, I was inside making tea when I heard Merwin stirring in the bow.
“What time is it?”
“Seven o’clock.”
“How long have I been sleeping?”
“About ten hours.”
“Wow, why didn’t you wake me?”
“There was no need to. Besides, you needed the sleep.”
“It’s so quiet and warm in here it’s easy to sleep.”
“I know. Do you want tea?”
“I’d kill for tea. Do you want me to make French toast?”
“That would be great. We have company.”
“We do? Who?”
“They’re outside.”
“They are? Who’s outside? Another ship?”
“Go take a look.”
Merwin wiped the sleep from his eyes, climbed the portal, and strapped on the harness. A few seconds later I heard him yell. “Whales! Oh, fantastic!”
Later, when we sat down for breakfast, Merwin spoke excitedly about the whales, and about Captain Watson. Whales were Merwin’s favourite animal, and the captain was his hero. “I believe that whales are the smartest and kindest creatures on the planet,” he said. “They’re way smarter than we are, and much kinder. They know that we kill them, and yet they still like us. It’s as if they’re waiting for us to grow up, to stop killing, and to live in peace.”
“Have you ever met Captain Watson?”
“Like you, I’ve seen him up close, but have never spoken with him. He’s a busy man, and doesn’t stay long in one place. There are many countries where he cannot go, or he’ll be thrown into jail. Especially in Japan, where they’d lock him up and probably throw away the key. They must really hate him there. He has devoted his whole life to saving whales and dolphins, and that has made him the number one enemy of the Japanese whaling industry. But he’s doing what nobody else has the guts to do. I admire him tremendously.”