Atlantica - 01.06.2001, Blaðsíða 55

A T L A N T I C A 53
sapphire. Then it happens. The biggest
creature I’ve ever seen in all my years of
living thrusts into the air just off the port
side of Haukur. Dear God. I turn to my
mother who turns towards me, “Did you
see that?” we shout in stereo, our hearts
racing at the speed of a hummingbird’s
wings.
A humpback. The boat leans to port as
the passengers converge on the side of
the rippling water for evidence of a
whale. A crewman voices over the inter-
com, “Six o’clock.” After a few seconds
of visualising the hands of a clock, I turn.
Nothing. The captain quietly blades the
boat around. SAWuuussshhh. The
humpback, as if trained, rifles out of the
water suspending it’s gargantuan body
in mid-air to the sounds of clicking cam-
eras. He (I’m no biologist, but for the
sake of argument the whale is a male.)
begins hamming it up, popping his head
out again, pausing as if to say, “What
chu lookin’ at? Ain’t you ever seen a
whale before?”
I’ve seen a whale before. I once visited
the famous movie-star whale, Keiko,
when he was residing at the Aquarium
in Newport, Oregon; I thought I saw a
killer whale while on a ferry to Victoria,
British Columbia, and of course, I’ve
seen Shamu at SeaWorld performing
like a circus animal. Child’s play. This
humpback is wild, humongous, and I’m
nearly close enough to touch its
dinosaur-sized body.
WE’RE GONNA NEED
A BIGGER BOAT
Sure, I feel a bit like a tourist, racing
from port to starboard, bow to stern, to
get a closer look at the enormous fish
floundering in the saltwater. But who
cares? To be honest, I’m not sure who’s
more excited about this spotting, the
captain – he’s left the helm and is scur-
rying about the ship for a better view –
or the passengers thumbing their cam-
eras for a chance at that picture post
card.
I’m all out of film. Like a teenager
making love for the first time, I quickly
shot my role and have nothing left. Not
filtered through the lens of a camera,
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