Whales Eye View

The moonlight, strong and captivating, broke the surface of the ocean and penetrated the gloom of the Atlantic night – giving the water an almost ghost-like quality. The cold waves slid silently over his body to froth gently, before re-joining the trillions of other water molecules that made up this vast body of sea.

  He was only young, not even two years old yet, but the sense of adventure and curiosity coursing through him meant he left the safety of the pod often. This night, with the skies above clear and crisp – a billion twinkling stars dotting the cosmos – he sensed something big moving towards him.

  Although it was big, he felt no imminent danger and in fact, curiosity once more drove him to seek it out – to witness its great splendour.

  Breaking the surface once more, his eyes happened on the magnificence of the Milky Way – spread out in a cascading spiral that was far beyond his comprehension or understanding. Then, just as quickly, his glistening body disappeared beneath the icy depths.

  A noise drifted across the night sky – one unlike any he had heard before. A loud, honking sound that was both haunting and wondrous at the same time. He picked up his speed a little – heading for the source of that sound and hoping to see what had made it. The water poured into his mouth and throat, so he blew a big stream up into the air in one great blast. Somewhere close by, a creature slid gently away, down to safety and away from the passage of this majestic whale.

  Lights twinkled ahead and a sound that was both mellow and soothing reached him. Slowing to an almost stop, he thought that maybe it was some sort of magic. It was not to know that the sound was in fact, music, which drifted out with a deep melancholy into the night chill.

  The ship loomed. The lights penetrated the darkness with savage blade, cutting a path ahead for a mile or two. The whale circled around it, fascinated by its size and majesty, the sheer sides rising up into the heavens, the big smoking stacks – four of them - that billowed out the foul smelling discharge into the air. Tiny specks, with even tinier eyes, stared down at him, unseeing in the gloom – unaware that such a beautiful beast was below them.

  Shouts and bellows from the ship - was he spotted? A slight panic set in as he remembered all the instinct within that forewarned of big ships, just like this one, ships with men wielding sharp, pointed harpoons – ready to take the meat on offer. Again, he ducked beneath the water, swimming down and below the ship, circling around.

  The horn again, loud and insistent. Then – a crash so great, it resonated to the very bottom of the ocean, where even the strangest of fish recoiled in fear. The whale surfaced – sure that the world was at an end and its very existence was under threat.

  The ship was still there, only this time it seemed to be floundering, much like a whale stuck with a harpoon. It was pitching over slightly and the whale could see some of those tiny specks, falling into the water. Splash, splash, splash – one after the other, plunging into the icy sea – some re-surfacing, others not.

  Frightened, the whale swam away, under and under, as far from the big ship as possible, feeling the waves roll from its back, the exhilaration it only experienced when at speed. Up ahead, a thick, dense fog of krill and plankton bloomed. The whale opened its great jaws, and fed.

  Later, curiosity got the better of caution, and he swung around, heading back in the direction from whence it came – seeing the last flickering of light as the ship – now reduced to a small triangular piece of metal – slowly succumb to the brutal Atlantic Ocean.

  As he cruised by, eyes just above the surface of the sea – its waves whipping and rolling with the surge of the ship as gravity tightened its deadly grip – a scream pierced the emptiness, a scream so full of terror and hopelessness that the whale paused on its passing to look.

  Two of the tiny specks had now become a man and a woman, clinging desperately to each other, and to a floating piece of wood. The ship’s centrifugal force had them in its maw, pulling them ever closer. Beyond the ship, a sight even more breath taking – an iceberg, cold and menacing.

  The whale, unsure of itself, ducked under the stricken couple and flicked its tail from side-to-side, creating an alternate wave effect – pushing the man and the woman clear of the deadly whirlpool. Then – the ship was gone. Slipping beneath the sea with a final groan, and lost forever. All around, specks of people were either in the process of drowning, or desperately hanging on to something, awaiting rescue.

  The whale, having seen enough, decided it was time to return to the pod. His Mother would be calling out to him, calling him back. He had had enough adventure for one day.

  Many year later, over an entire human lifetime, the same whale – now well into old age – happened past the same spot. As whales do, it knew instantly where it was and what had happened at this place.

  Diving down, deep beyond even the places it would usually go, it spotted something. Unmistakable in the murky waters – the hull of a ship. One that it recognised instantly. Scattered all around on the seabed, an array of things that did not belong this far down. Things that belonged on land and not the ocean; boots, pots and pans, bones.

  The waves - and time - had served their purpose and begun breaking everything down, the sea taking its payment after so long. Letters that were barely visible on the metal of the ship, corroded and covered in seaweed and limpets - but there nevertheless. The whale could not read of course, but if it were able, it would read the word ‘Titanic’

  With a flick of its tail, it sailed serenely back to the surface far above – following the faint shaft of sunlight that touched the oil slick like calm of the sea.