The Pacific Giants (4 page)

Givney's Food Emporium consisted of a small, dimly lit room with a single aisle down the middle. Mrs. Bouche introduced Vanessa to the man and woman behind the counter. Another couple of people came in and were also introduced. Givney's was obviously a key part of island life.

When they heard that Vanessa had come all the way from Ireland, everyone was delighted, and every single one claimed to have Irish-born relatives, although none had ever visited Ireland.

Vanessa and Mrs. Bouche packed the food into the backseat of the car, as the trunk was still full of gardening stuff, and began the ten-minute journey back to the guesthouse.

When they arrived back, Vanessa headed up to her room to wait for Lee. The day felt never-ending. It was three o'clock. Lee had said to Frankie that she would be home in the afternoon, so she probably wouldn't be too much longer. It would be great to find out more about the research center and the missing whales.

When she turned the corner on the landing, Vanessa was surprised to see Wayne in the middle of the
doorway to her bedroom, blocking her entrance. He was standing with his feet apart and his hands on his hips, Peter Pan-style, but there was no way he was flying anywhere. Wayne's chunky shoulders and sturdy legs reminded Vanessa of an aggressive little bull.

“What's up, Wayne?” Vanessa said cheerfully.

Wayne didn't answer and he made no effort to move.

“Excuse me, please,” Vanessa said with exaggerated politeness.

Wayne stared defiantly back.

Vanessa's eyes narrowed. “Get out of the way, you moron,” she growled.

Growling usually worked with her brothers at home, but it didn't appear to be working now. Wayne didn't move. He didn't even blink—that was the snake in him.

“I'm not going anywhere until you promise to be nice to me,” Wayne said calmly, his head cocked to one side, an eyebrow raised. “I'll tell my mother if you don't.”

Vanessa laughed, part in amusement and part in disbelief. But when she caught the steely flint in Wayne's eyes, she realized that he wasn't messing. He
was almost a full foot shorter than she was and his cheeky face made him look like a comical character out of a book, but there was still something menacing about him. He was only ten and he was already a bully.

He tapped his foot impatiently on the floor.

“Well?” he said in a lazy drawl.

Vanessa laughed again. This time she exaggerated her laugh and met Wayne's eyes full on, challenging him. Wayne would be no match for a girl who stood up to him. Vanessa had brothers, and she knew how to fight. It was time to put the poison dwarf in his place.

The whole thing took no more than a couple of seconds. She barely had time to register Wayne pinching his own forearm hard in a couple of places, screaming out in agony and then dropping to the floor, sobbing. It was no more than a few rapid heartbeats before his mother puffed her way up the stairs and stood opposite them, panting.

“Pickles, Pickles, sweetheart, what on earth has happened to you?”

It was unfortunate that Vanessa, amused by the nickname Pickles, should be smiling when Wayne's mother looked up at her.

“She … she pinched me. Look!”

Wayne held out his arm where two large angry red welts had appeared.

“I did not!” Vanessa said hotly. Why was this boy being so horrible to her? She'd done nothing to him. “He did that to himself.”

The hurt look on Frankie's face hit Vanessa hard, and she turned bright red.

“I did not pinch him!” she said indignantly. “Look! He's grinning at me behind your back,” she added, making the situation worse.

Up to this, Vanessa had assumed that Wayne was just overindulged and spoiled, but now she wasn't so sure. If eyes were the mirrors to the soul and all that, then Wayne was in a pretty bad place.

It was hard to know what would have happened next if Lee hadn't walked up the stairs at that very moment. Vanessa was caught between the desire to defend herself and to run away. But where to? Run outside? Step over Wayne and into her bedroom?

Lee raised her eyebrows in question. She opened her mouth to say something but her words were drowned as Wayne's sobs rose a decibel in recognition of his growing audience.

In November 1947 George W. Saggers, a fisherman from Vancouver Island, saw a strange creature while he was salmon fishing. His account appeared in the American magazine
Fate
. “On the port side, about 150 feet away, was a head and neck raised about four feet above the water, with two jet black eyes about three inches across and protruding from the head like buns, staring at me.”

Lee sighed as she surveyed the scene at the top of the stairs. Wayne lay on the floor, weeping theatrically; Frankie Bouche looked as if she were about to cry;
and Vanessa had a defiant and furious face on her. The whole scenario made the idea of tracking down illegal whale hunters look like a picnic in comparison.

“Why don't we go downstairs and chat about this?” Lee said calmly, looking at Mrs. Bouche for some adult support.

“Absolutely, Lee,” she said immediately. “I think the children have just gotten a bit overwrought.”

Vanessa felt her face flame red hot. Children. Overwrought. How dare she!

“I think I'll just wait in my room,” Vanessa said through gritted teeth. “I was on my way in there when I suddenly decided to attack Wayne for no reason at all,” she added tartly, slamming the bedroom door behind her.

Vanessa threw herself onto her bed and hit the mattress with her fists. The dust plumed in the air.

The rotten little worm! “A five-star pain in the neck!” she said loudly, hoping that they were still outside the door and would hear her.

She should have thumped him rather than try to talk him around. Then at least he'd have had a reason to cry. All things considered, she had been highly restrained all day.

Downstairs, he was probably telling Lee all sorts of lies about her. Maybe she should have gone down rather than just turning tail? Lee didn't even know about the other things Wayne had done—spying on her and putting stones in her shoes. Vanessa had no proof, and it was only a gut feeling, but she just knew she was right.

After about ten minutes there was still no sign of Lee.

Vanessa got up off the bed and went to the window. Instead of opening it, she rested her forehead against the cool glass. She often did that at home when she was upset or needed to think.

She couldn't believe it. After all the trouble she'd had getting here—convincing Lee that it was a good idea, and then her dad—after all that, an irritating ten-year-old was going to spoil the whole trip. Perhaps coming to Duquette Island had been a big mistake.

A gentle knock on her door made her jump. The door opened slowly, and Lee's head appeared around it. Vanessa was relieved that Lee was smiling.

“Sorted,” she said brightly. “Get on your swimsuit. We're going for a dip.”

“Now?” Vanessa said doubtfully. “But the water's freezing.”

“Yup,” Lee said briskly. “Bring a towel and a robe for after,” she called through the open door. “I'm just going to change.”

The whale wavered and towered motionless above us. I looked up past the daggered six-inch teeth into a massive eye, an eye that reflected back an intelligence, an eye that spoke wordlessly of compassion … on that day I knew emotionally and spiritually that my allegiance lay with the whale first and foremost over the interests of humans that would kill them
.

—
Paul Watson, antiwhaling activist

Vanessa changed quickly. She wanted to ask Lee what she had meant by “sorted.” Sorted as in Lee had
apologized on her behalf? Or sorted as in Wayne was lying on the kitchen floor with a stake through his heart?

Vanessa warned Lee about the broken tiles and the gaps in the steps to the beach. Luckily there was still plenty of light and they navigated their way down the steps easily enough.

As Lee and Vanessa walked on the beach they listened to the noisy chatter of the insects all around them. It was like there was some huge insect beach party and they had kindly agreed to provide all the food and drink, Vanessa remarked, and Lee laughed. It wasn't cold out, but Vanessa was glad she had worn her robe because the long sleeves at least prevented her arms from getting eaten.

“The sooner we get in the water the better. Last in …” Lee said, draping her robe over a rock and hobbling across the stones to the water's edge.

Lee was a pretty woman who looked much younger than her forty-three years. Because she tended to wear high heels, she gave the impression of being tall, and Vanessa was surprised now to find that they were almost the same height. In every other way, however, they were opposites, and there was little chance of
mistaking them for mother and daughter. While Lee was blonde, fair, and neat, Vanessa had a mop of black wavy hair, olive skin, and very long limbs. Her older brother, Luke, always teased her about being lanky. Vanessa hoped that she would stop growing soon and become more normally proportioned. She'd love to have a nice figure rather than looking like a stick.

Vanessa walked quickly into the sea, right up to her waist, and gasped with the shock of the cold on her skin. She looked around for Lee, but she was entirely submerged.

There was no going back now. Vanessa went headfirst under the next small wave. When she stood up to catch her breath, Lee was standing beside her.

“Stay under, Vanessa. Put your head in the water—quick,” Lee said urgently before disappearing again under the surface of the choppy gray water.

Vanessa took a deep breath and plunged in. At first she noticed only the sudden lack of sound, the off-switch for the insect racket, and then she heard it: a slow, high-pitched musical whine, followed by a deep, reassuring groan. The doleful sound went on for ages and Vanessa, who was almost bursting from holding her breath, shot up out of the water.

“Whales! Oh my God, Lee—the whales! Did you hear the whales?”

Lee was grinning broadly at her, and Vanessa realized how stupid she sounded. Of course Lee knew about the whales. That was why she had suggested a swim in the first place. The cetacean laboratory was on a neighboring island because the whales came to these waters at this time of year.

“It's probably a humpback whale,” Lee said. “Males and females can vocalize, but it's only the males that sing the song. It can last for ages—up to forty minutes.”

Vanessa plunged back under. She'd ask questions later. It was just so exciting knowing these 50-foot giants were nearby and that she was listening to them.

The sounds came from every direction and were so clear that Vanessa felt a whale might pop up beside her any minute. Surround sound at its very best. Tomorrow she'd find a snorkel and a mask so that she could stay under as long as she liked. Maybe she'd even swim out a bit.

Vanessa was shivering uncontrollably by the time she finally agreed to get out of the water. She felt
elated as she dried herself off, as if she had made a discovery, a connection of some sort. She found it difficult to get her dressing gown on and almost impossible to tie the belt. Her whole body felt like her face did after a visit to the dentist.

“How did it go today at work?” she asked Lee, her words slurred through numbed lips.

“OK,” Lee said noncommittally.

Before Vanessa could ask anything more, a rustling behind them in the bushes stopped them in their tracks. They stared at each other for a moment, wide-eyed. There it was again.

“Just a bird or a cat,” Lee finally said dismissively.

The rustling stopped, and Lee started to walk toward the steps to go back up, but Vanessa wanted to investigate. Picking up a long stick, she poked at the shrubbery.

“Come on, Vanessa,” Lee called. “It's probably some poor little raccoon and you're scaring the wits out of him.”

Vanessa knew the creature all right. It was Wayne, eavesdropping again, and she felt sick to her stomach at the thought that he had been watching and listening to them.

“Come on, Vanessa,” Lee shouted again. “It's freezing.”

Vanessa decided to say nothing about her Wayne theory. Lee would probably think she was being paranoid.

She followed Lee slowly up the steps, her thoughts entirely taken up with Wayne. They were due to stay at Rocky Bay for at least another six days. What on earth was she going to do about Wayne? Even the memory of the wonderful whale singing couldn't cheer her up now.

It wasn't until Vanessa was back in her bed, snuggled up under her warm duvet and behind a locked door, that she remembered what Lee had said: “Sorted!”

Sorted, my foot
. Clearly it was far from sorted.

Witnesses consistently describe the sea monster as a giant reptilian creature with coils or humps, a strangely shaped head (like a horse or cow), and bulging black eyes. Its face has been described as both “horrific” and “loveable.”

It was hot and steamy. Vanessa found it hard to suck the air into her lungs. Looking down, she saw that there were large rubbery leaves stuck to her skin and covering most of her body. It wasn't a leaf she recognized. She crouched down into the bushes, uncertain
what to do. Just then a little furry snake appeared and told her to peel the leaves off quickly or she would die. Vanessa was surprised that the snake's voice was so high and squeaky, but she did as it said and started to pull off a leaf. It was a slow and painful process, but she was delighted to see that it left a beautiful green vein pattern on her skin. She gazed with pleasure at the fine branches dividing and subdividing and looked around to show the snake, but it was gone. All she could hear now was its rattle, and it was getting louder. A warning sign. Danger.

She should be moving. But her legs and arms just wouldn't budge. Rattle, rattle … rattle, rattle … It was close enough to strike. Close enough to …