by Lee Welles
The sei whale was waiting for them. Miho’s breath caught at the enormity of the great being. It was 50 feet long and the water around it seemed to hum with its great living energy. Its grooved throat was pale, almost white compared to the dark gray of its back. Miho used her heart to send a greeting and said out loud. “Yoroshiku,” which meant “pleased to meet you.”
She felt the return greeting like a hot shiver through her entire body and the whale’s name followed. Big Boy was the best translation her mind could conjure up. She looked into the dark well of the whale’s eye and wondered if this whale could possibly know what she needed to do. Before, Gaia had started the chain of whale pings and Miho had trusted that Gaia knew the way.
As if in response, Big Boy opened his big mouth! His throat grooves expanded as thousands of gallons of sea water rushed in. Miho was swept in as well and could see the lags milling around the whale. She ducked under the water and called to them, “I’ll be back!”
As the whale closed its mouth and the brightness of the day vanished, Miho hoped with all her might she would see her friends the following day. As before, the whale began to press the water from its mouth, straining it through the baleen. As before, the steep dive took them to the ‘talking lines’ that whales used. As before, Miho could feel the buildup before the ping resounded and she was yanked out into the blackest of black places.
Going this fast, she could almost forget she was in the water. Miho had just gotten her arm securely hooked over the wave of sound when she felt the ascent begin. Already? Well, duh! You’re not going to New York, just Taiji. Miho barely had time to wonder how close she might be when she rammed into the waiting whale.
She tumbled onto the soft tongue, relieved to be, in some small way, safe. The whale squeezed out the chill water and began to rise. Miho wondered about its name and the answer came in the image of a dark and angry storm at sea. In the midst of the storm the whale rolled one eye to watch the heavens. StormWatcher. “Yoroshiku, Storm Watcher-san,” Miho called into the wet cavern of the whale’s mouth.
Miho was allowed to swim out once they were on the surface. The sea was choppy and gray. Miho had to work hard with her arms to keep from taking in mouthfuls of water. She could see the shoreline in the distance and studied it up and down.
Storm Watcher began to blow repeatedly, priming for a long, deep dive. “Aren’t you staying?” Miho asked, in English, not sure what language whales preferred, but feeling certain that it would understand the intention in her heart. Ishin denshin.
As she looked into the dark, thoughtful eye, she got the sense of another whale and a much smaller, lighter colored one. Storm Watcher was an auntie and needed to return to her duties, traveling with the mother and calf.
Miho was scared. What if she wasn’t in the right place; what would she do? Would Gaia come? How long could she bob here like driftwood? She was a strong swimmer and knew she could make it to shore, but ocean currents can be tricky and she could be miles away when she did.
The leviathan’s eye was still fixed on her. If she could speak, the whale would say, “Don’t worry, Gaia Girl.” Miho nodded, mostly to herself. The whale gathered her energy, ploughed her massive head downward, and Miho felt privileged to watch every inch of the magnificent creature slide past her into the gray waters.
The tail rose high and water rained down on Miho as if blessing her. Miho waited for the whorls of water, the whale’s footprint, to diminish before turning her attention back to the shape of the shoreline. Yes, this was where she needed to be. She could see high cliffs and the sharp inlet of Taiji to her north and judge that the current was gently pulling her that way.
Miho dove and began to swim underwater, away from the chop. She felt ridiculously slow after riding with the lags and being rocketed on the whale ping. She scanned in front of her and didn’t see much except a swarm of jellyfish out to her right, a scattering of flounder far below her and the usual human detritus: plastic bottles, plastic bags, plastic bottle caps, plastic packaging of all shapes and sizes.
Miho knew that these were just the kind of cancer-causing things that Mr. Hernandez had spoken of. The chemicals in the plastic leach into the sea, into the fish, and eventually into the dolphins as well. She cursed the plastic and kept swimming.
She saw men preparing boats. Oddly, other men were setting up huge expanses of blue tarp between the cliffs. So no one can see, take pictures and tell the world. Pictures! She thought of her phone and sent what she hoped was the first of many “*1…I’m okay” messages.
Miho dove again to scan, hoping no dolphins or porpoises were coming. Then again, if they didn’t come, how would she save them? That was a puzzle that kept Miho’s mind busy as she treaded water.
Miho had to dive and swim against the current in order to maintain her position. She knew this would get tiring in due time. When she came up, she listened hard to the intertwining sounds of the sea, the birds, and the wind and tried to ask Gaia for help.
Miho used her phone to keep time and dove every ten minutes to scan for cetaceans at risk. After an hour and two more swims against the current, she decided to test her powers, just a little bit.
She drew her right hand back, gathered her intention and gave a slow, but steady push through the gray water. She waited. Even the largest of waves sometimes were hidden until they came up against the rising sea floor and in to land.
Sure enough, about 45 seconds after she pushed, the boats milling around Taiji began to rise and fall sharply. She could see men, looking like scurrying ants, trying to secure equipment. She heard engines rev as the ant men pushed their boats out away from the rocks. She smiled.
The day wore on. The sun traveled unseen, its daily trek hidden by thick clouds. Miho worked continuously against the choppy swell and the ever-running current. Her stomach growled and her eyes were tired of watching. A bump against her foot snapped her to attention. In the sea, a predator bumps things like a human checks a menu. What is this? Can I eat it? Then again, it could be a piece of driftwood.
She held her breath and dove to scan. What her ears saw confused her. It was like a rock with wings. The odd rock turned and came toward her! Only when she intensified her scan did she know what she was seeing: a sea turtle, and a large one at that.
Miho was delighted when it came straight toward her. Now she could see it with her eyes. Before she could tell what kind it was, it did something amazing. The sea turtle took a sharp dive under Miho and then rose directly beneath her!
Miho found herself draped across the turtle’s upper shell. Carapace, she reminded herself of the word for the upper shell. She slid partway back into the water so she could see the turtle’s face. Its eyes reminded her of Sensei: old and patient and a little amused. Miho studied the shape of the head and decided that this must be a loggerhead turtle. She didn’t know if the loggerhead was sent by Gaia, but she was grateful for the break.
The turtle floated patiently and occasionally flapped its long front flippers to push them back against the current. Miho periodically slid off and dove to scan. The day stretched out. She tried asking the sea turtle its name. All she saw in her mind’s eye was the thousands of eggs this turtle had laid over her long lifetime. Miho thought about the thousands of wee little turtles that had gone flippety, floppety, down the beach and into the sea, either to become food or more loggerhead turtles.
“Well,” Miho declared, “I’ll have to call you Mama!” Mama didn’t seem too impressed with her new name.
The day wore on and Miho began to feel dull. Her eyes were very tired and she began to wonder if this had all been for nothing. Just as she was about to send Ojisan another *1, a series of sharp clanking noises grabbed her attention.
It was the sound of the fishermen banging pipes that were held in the water. The dolphin hunt had started—the Taiji men were scaring the dolphins to drive them into the bay! Miho climbed higher up on the loggerhead and shaded her eyes.
The men had gone further out into
the sea and made a wide arc with their boats. How had she missed this? As they clanged the pipes, they started to tighten the arc toward the inlet. Miho felt frantic. Her hope had been that she could talk to any dolphins and tell them to run. But it was too late now. She could see dorsal fins breaking the surface!
49
Taiji
Miho needed to get closer. She dropped her legs in the water and had only given two kicks toward the shore when Mama dragged them five feet under and began to fly! She flapped her long flippers and Miho clung to the ridge of shell behind her neck. The banging of the pipes filled the water, filled Miho’s mind, and made sonar useless.
Miho let go when she felt she was close enough. Close enough to what? She popped to the surface like a cork and hoped that her small head would remain unseen in the choppy water.
She needn’t have worried. All the men had their attention focused to the inside circle, drawing tighter around the…what are those? As if in answer, one made an awkward leap half out of the water. Shining out from the fat, black body was a large patch of white that marked its side and ran under its belly. It’s a panda porpoise!
Well, that was what Miho had always called them. The mostly black Dall’s porpoise has a very distinct white “belly saddle.” Its dorsal fin and tail fluke were also black with white gracing the trailing edge. Dall’s porpoises were short and stocky but boy, did they love to bow ride! Miho had seen them often in her travels. She used to call out, “The pandas are back!” each time they zipped along the pressure wave that pushed out ahead of the bow of the boat. This was the first time Miho wished she wasn’t seeing them.
Five boats. She looked down at her hand—five fingers! She curled her scarred, but powerful hand into a claw shape and pushed it out in front of her. Behind her push was a feeling that was a strange combination of her shame from Futo and her love: love of her parents, Ojisan, Sensei, Shinju, all the whales and dolphins she had ever known, and the ones she had yet to meet.
Miho knew the wave had gone out. What she didn’t expect was the form it would take. The water rose up in five tall reaching fingers. It was like seeing Hokusai’s “Great Wave” come to life! Each boat was pounded, doused by the falling wave! The power of the crashing water flattened men to the decks and swept some into the sea!
She pulled her hand back again, ready to push those men down into the water, never to come back. But her heart spoke…They are fathers. Miho knew those men had children at home. She couldn’t imagine being the reason another kid had to say their father was “lost at sea.”
Instead she dove and called with all her might, “Swim! Here! Swim!” The Dall’s porpoises were as fast as she remembered and were arriving almost before she finished calling. Their speech was a bit different than that of the lags, but Miho could see all the pictures and knew they were discussing the strange waves and what had happened.
Miho began to send pictures from Futo. Slowly, the chatter of the Dall’s stopped as they all listened to her story. She did her best to relay the message that they should tell to other dolphins, but the group of forty was already heading south, anxious to get away from the shore, the men, and the story of Futo.
A few paused to give their version of thank you, but soon, Miho was alone with the loggerhead. The wise old face stared at her as if waiting for direction. Miho looked to the mayhem she had created.
Two boats were overturned. Small craft buzzed out from the shore and men were being pulled from the water. There was a lot of yelling going on and it made Miho happy. But she didn’t want this to be too easy for them. Perhaps the power of waves wasn’t needed. She drew her Hokusai hand up to rub her eyes and saw that below it, tiny droplets followed.
She opened her palm and drew her hand up again. Like a delicate formation of cotton candy, a fog began to form around Miho. She laughed out loud, not caring if anyone heard. She began to wipe her hand across just the tips of the choppy waves and sent a wall of fog toward Taiji. Soon, all was hidden. They didn’t need those blue tarps after all.
Miho sent Ojisan three *1’s in a row and hoped he understood that meant, “Mission Accomplished!” She was so happy she kissed Mama on her hard, round head. If turtles could look surprised, this one did.
Miho grabbed her carapace and sent them both down. She was pleased to find the skin on her arms prickled, barnacle-like and she was able to stick fast to Mama’s shell. Miho relaxed her grip and enjoyed the smooth ride the sea turtle gave.
She would go back to Goza and build an army. Not an army of kids with Hokusai hands. The shark had given her that scar and Gaia had come to make it something more. No, her army would be people who loved the dolphins so much that they would convince all of Japan that Oikomi should stop. No one would buy the poisoned meat. No one would want to see dolphins that had been caught in such a horrific way. It would no longer be entertaining…it would be heartbreaking.
Instead, they would seek understanding in the open water. Miho would help. She would make sure that dolphins would come. Miho would be like a…bridge, her mind whispered. She smiled, realizing how perfect her Dolphinese name was.
50
Wakarimashtaka?
As Miho made her trip home—from turtle to whale to her friends, the lags—she marveled and lamented. It was astounding that she could do such things as ride a whale ping, but her mind was also troubled by all the challenges that the sea faced. Oikomi was really only one thing. The plastics and the cancers were another. And then there was that boat destroying the entire bottom of the sea. Bottom trawling. Miho had searched the Internet for an answer to her lost whale ping. She had watched bottom trawling on Ojisan’s laptop.
It was almost worse than Oikomi. It was as if someone wanted to go squirrel hunting and took a bulldozer into the woods. Where would all the creatures live? What would they eat? The coral reef is like the woods. All the creatures in the sea need the reefs.
By the time the shore of Goza was visible, the fat but waning moon was near its peak for the night. Miho was tired past her bones. Before she left the lags, she gave Shinju the image of a moon rising three times. In three nights she would come back to play with her. Shinju gave a short leap of approval. The lags peeled away and Miho wished them well.
When she got home, an odd ticking, tapping noise met her ears. A door in the back of the main room was rolled open and there was her uncle, hunched over a keyboard and typing so fast it sounded almost like sonar clicks.
The room seemed full of computers! Three large monitors sat in a line along a folding table. The audio equipment that lined a shelf along one wall caught Miho by surprise. This room looked a bit like her mother’s office.
Ojisan was so engrossed in what he was doing that he hadn’t heard her come in. She couldn’t resist; she hit a *1 on her phone. His phone let out the special ring they had given it. Her Oji snatched it off the table. He stared at the screen and then muttered, “She’s still okay! But where is she? Is she really okay?”
“Yatta!” Miho cheered. It meant “I did it!” The Japanese victory word had hardly left her mouth before Ojisan was out of his chair and striding toward her, a smile—her mother’s smile—stretching his face. I bet my parents would be happy with me too!
“You shower; I have a surprise.”
After she had washed the day’s events away, was sipping matcha and leaning in the doorway of this newly outfitted room, Ojisan said, “Do you know where you are?”
“Should I get my GPS?” Miho asked, not caring if her sarcasm sounded, ‘too American.’
He wagged his finger at her, getting the joke. “This is the home office of Kiromoto Center for Cetacean Studies!” His eyes crinkled in a delight that she didn’t even know her Oji could feel.
Miho closed her eyes so the words could make more sense to her and she could be sure she understood his Japanese correctly. “Ojisan, you don’t know anything about whales and dolphins.”
“My sister did. This is for her. You talk to them; I will do all the marketing�
�those scientists never do any good marketing!”
Miho had visited her share of “Centers” and “Institutes” and they always had grownups with letters behind their names working in them. Like her mother, Yoko Rivolo, Ph.D. Miho wished she could feel excited by this room, but neither she nor Ojisan would ever be listened to in the world of science.
“Ojisan, I’m a just a kid and you are…” She tried to think of something nice that would explain this. “You are not a scientist like my mom was.”
Oddly, he kept grinning. “Our Sensei reminded me that I am Ama too, and I’m smart!” He tapped his forehead twice. “I’m smart and I listen very closely to everything my strange gaijin niece tells me. Tomorrow, you’ll see.” He actually giggled before he turned around to sit back at the computer station.
“Now, make dinner!” The command that was tossed over his shoulder came from the Oji that she knew. The gruffness made her smile. She started up the rice cooker and wondered what tomorrow would bring.
That night her mother came. In Miho’s dream, she climbed down to the mermaid chair to find her beautiful mother there, bathed in the waving bands of light bouncing off the water. “I’m glad you found it,” her mother said. “I loved this place.”
Part of Miho knew she was dreaming, so she didn’t dare rush into her mother’s arms for fear that such a physical thing would yank her wide awake. The water in the cove became alive with arching backs that were streaked with white suspenders.
Her mother laughed and looked up at Miho with a grin she missed, but now knew she could find on Ojisan’s face as well. “They are wonderful friends to have, Miho! But you need people friends too, friends your own age.”
Miho still didn’t speak or move, for fear of waking up. Her mother poked her bare toes at the black-lipped snouts of the lags. “They are beautiful, but like the sea, they are only the surface.
