The Pacific Giants (5 page)

“Vanessa? Vanessa! Are you OK in there?”

Vanessa rose to the surface. Still befuddled from sleep, she turned her head slowly to look at her arms. Alas, no leaf tattoos. The rattle began again and she saw that the handle of her bedroom door was being twisted back and forth. Vaguely relieved that it wasn't a rattlesnake, but still not conscious enough to wonder at the rattling door, she closed her eyes again.

“Vanessa, there's something I have to tell you before I leave this morning.”

Vanessa's brain finally engaged and she struggled to her feet.

“Thought that touch of hypothermia you got last night might have finished you off,” Lee said when Vanessa unlocked the door.

“Sorry, I was in a deep sleep, having wild dreams,” Vanessa said. “Thought you were a rattlesnake. Wonder if there are any on the island. Might go out and look for some later.” She was still only half-awake.

Lee laughed. “You're busy today, actually.”

Vanessa perked up instantly.

“Mr. Fox is going to take you out whale-watching in the boat after he drops me off.” She smiled at Vanessa, expecting oohs and aahs, but Vanessa stared back uncomprehendingly.

“Mr. Fox?” she said at last. “After he drops you off?”

“Yes,” Lee said slowly, watching Vanessa's face. “He's going to drop me to Brighton Island, to the research station, as he did yesterday, but today he'll come back and take you to Wilbur Sound or Governor Bay, whichever is the best place to see the whales at that time. …” Lee's voice trailed off. Then she asked, “Can I come in for a moment?”

Lee walked into the bedroom and shut the door behind her.

“What's the matter, Vanessa? I thought you would be thrilled.”

Vanessa sat on the side of her bed and stared down at her hands. She was furiously trying to order her thoughts. She wanted to say she was pleased about the whale-watching, but she just couldn't work up the enthusiasm right now. Wayne was the matter, really, but she didn't want to sound whiny, complaining about him again.

“Who is Mr. Fox?” she said at last.

Lee looked surprised and then gave a small apologetic laugh.

“I'm sorry, Vanessa. With the full-scale theatrical performance from Wayne and then going swimming, I just forgot to tell you last night. Mr. Fox is my driver. Or in this case my captain, as we have to use a boat to get to the research station.”

“You mean he works for Greenpeace too?”

“No. I mean he helps out at the research laboratory sometimes, getting supplies and ferrying people about. I've hired him for the week to help me.” Lee spoke in a low, calm voice. “What's the problem, Vanessa?”

“Nothing really. You just hadn't mentioned him before, that's all. I'd have remembered the name Fox for sure.”

“I'm sorry, Vanessa,” Lee said, although the tone of her voice didn't make it sound like an apology. “It's habit with me, I suppose. I'm not used to having a teenager with me when I work, that's all.”

Vanessa didn't look up.

“As a rule,” Lee continued, “I don't talk about my job very much. I've already told you that this is a sensitive matter, and the less people know the better.” She paused, waiting for Vanessa to look up. “Frankie and Wayne would love to get hold of any gossip there might be, and I don't need any more drama, do I?”

Vanessa stood up and hugged Lee.

“Sorry, Lee,” she said with feeling. “I'm just being silly. Of course I'd love to go out with Mr. Fox. I'll find a snorkel and I'll bring my sketchbook. Maybe I could get a loan of a wetsuit. Maybe the little monster downstairs would have one. It wouldn't matter if it's too short.”

“Ah, yes. About Wayne.” Lee's voice dropped, and Vanessa guessed there was something else coming. “The only way I could think to sort the little problem
yesterday was to invite Wayne to go out whale-watching with Mr. Fox too.” Lee's voice was full of apology this time. “Mrs. Bouche—Frankie—seemed to think it would be great for you both. That it would help iron out your differences.”

Vanessa gave a hard little laugh. It would take more than a boat ride to do that. Should she tell Lee now about his spying on her and the stones in her shoes? What if Lee didn't believe her? Better not. Maybe Wayne had done his worst already and he'd be better when he was away from his mother. She'd just have to get through it and enjoy it as best she could, she decided.

“Oh, we'll be fine together,” she said breezily. “Hopefully he'll fall overboard and a whale will crush him or something.”

On a Sunday morning in December 1933, Cyril Andrews and Norman Georgeson saw Caddy while they were duck hunting near South Pender Island. They called in the Justice of the Peace, Mr. G. F. Parkyn, who took down a sworn statement of what they had seen. About ten minutes later the creature appeared again close to the shore, and eleven people, including Mr. Parkyn, witnessed it.

Vanessa got dressed and went down to breakfast. She felt a little anxious but she wasn't sure why. Most likely it was the thought of spending the day with Wayne.

As she walked through the house, Vanessa couldn't help noticing that the place, although tidy and clean, looked a bit shabby and definitely in need of a lick of paint. There were no pictures on the walls, but there were photographs in silver frames everywhere—over the fireplace, on the piano, on the bookshelves. Vanessa stopped to examine them. They were mostly of the same three people: Frankie, slimmer and looking younger; Wayne as a chubby toddler; and a tall, thin man with gray hair who had a lovely warm smile. Frankie's husband, probably.

Frankie was in top form at breakfast. She told Vanessa all about her parents and how they had started the guesthouse over forty years ago. There was no gap in the conversation, and Vanessa could only gawp at the rising pile of pancakes.

“Honestly, Frankie, I've heaps,” Vanessa murmured finally, putting her hand over her plate.

“By the way, honey, I've got an extra wetsuit for you,” Frankie announced. “It may be a little big, but Lee thought it would be better than nothing.”

“Oh, that's great, Frankie,” Vanessa said. “Thanks so much.”

“Wayne has his own, of course. He's an exceptional
swimmer. Not surprising, I suppose, given that he lives on an island and that his father is a famous free diver in these parts.”

“What's free diving, Frankie?”

“I suppose you might say it's deepwater diving without the scuba gear; not even fins—you go as deep as you can in one breath. Dangerous if you don't train properly for it.”

“How deep can he go?” Vanessa asked.

“His record is 170 feet. But the best in the world is about 335.”

“Wow, that's incredible! I'd say ten feet would be my tops!”

“Wayne will be just as good as his father, I expect. He's got big lungs for his age and can hold his breath for over a minute already.”

It would have been a perfect moment to ask whether the man in the photos was Wayne's dad, but Vanessa was suddenly caught by a fit of the giggles at the idea of Wayne's big lungs. She coughed to hide her amusement and then had to keep coughing when Frankie began to tap her on the back.

“A glass of water?” Vanessa begged huskily in between coughs and splutters.

When she had recovered, she helped Frankie to clear the table.

“Here you go – wetsuit, flippers, snorkel, and lunch,” Frankie said, handing Vanessa a large straw bag. “I've put in plenty of snacks and drinks for you both and some nice chicken salad rolls.”

She smiled so eagerly that Vanessa felt bad again briefly. But the feeling didn't last long. Wayne strutted into the room, dressed in his wetsuit, complete with flippers, mask, and goggles.

“Aren't you ready yet?” he said rudely.

Vanessa turned away, pulling a face, and found herself looking straight into the face of a small wiry man with a neatly trimmed mustache. It had to be Mr. Fox.

After the introductions had been made, Mr. Fox told them that his boat was moored in the next bay. It was a ten-minute walk along the stony beach, so they should wear comfortable, nonslip shoes. Wayne changed out of his flippers and, to Vanessa's relief, chatted away quite normally to Mr. Fox as they walked to the boat. He didn't whine once.

Vanessa found that she wasn't really included in the conversation, so she dropped back a little to
observe Mr. Fox better. She smiled. He did actually walk a bit like a fox. As he made his way quickly along the stony beach he looked agile and careful. In contrast, Wayne stomped beside him, stumbling in an effort to keep up. She wondered if Mr. Fox lived on Duquette Island and how well he knew Wayne.

Vanessa felt a flutter of excitement in the pit of her stomach when she saw the boat for the first time. It was much bigger than she had imagined. More like a small trawler, although there were no fishing lines or nets visible. There was even a rubber dinghy tied up on the beach to allow them to get out to it. A tender, Mr. Fox said it was called.

Vanessa would have been very happy with just the tender, although they would get much farther out in the trawler and there would be no possibility of a whale turning them over. She had read about things like that happening. In fact, a little part of her secretly wouldn't have minded. She'd swum with something just as big in Loch Ness before and loved it!

When they got onto the trawler, Mr. Fox handed them each a life jacket immediately.

“Feel free to wander around the boat,” he said, “but you must wear the life jackets at all times and you
must not stand on or lean over the rails. Understood?”

He turned sharply, not expecting an answer, and went back down the steps to the tender.

“I'm just going to tie the tender to the mooring buoy and then we'll set off,” he called over his shoulder.

“Can I help?” Vanessa asked.

“You can if you can tie a decent bowline, little lady,” Mr. Fox said.

Little lady? Her brothers would laugh. That was something she wasn't used to being called.

“It's lucky I can, then.” She grinned up at him. “Reef, half-hitch, bowline.”

Mr. Fox didn't try to hide his surprise. “Wow. I guess your education system in Europe ain't so fancy after all. Pretty hands-on, huh?”

“If only,” Vanessa said wistfully. “I learnt none of that in school. All on the Internet—like everything else useful in life.”

In the last couple of years Vanessa had, with the help of YouTube and various minority-interest websites, taught herself the art of knot-tying, which was followed by an intensive study of Morse code and, more recently, sign language.

“I can tie all the knots she can,” Wayne piped up.

Poor Wayne, Vanessa thought. He was just a baby, really, desperate to be the center of attention.

The tender was tied up to the buoy with Vanessa's bowline, which was checked and duly admired by Mr. Fox.

“You haven't skippered a fishing trawler before, I suppose?” Mr. Fox said with a grin, as they walked back to the bridge.

“Not yet,” Vanessa replied.

“Let's go to Governor Bay first. I saw a mother and her baby there on my way back from Brighton half an hour ago,” Mr. Fox said to Vanessa. “Where's Wayne?” he said suddenly, scanning the boat. “He can't be gone overboard already, surely. WAYNE!” he yelled.

“I'm here,” Wayne called back, still not visible. “Just checking the tender,” he said, climbing back up the last step onto the deck of the trawler.

“Good man,” Mr. Fox said hurriedly, throwing a glance at the little boat. “OK, let's go.”

The humpback whale is the fifth-largest animal on the planet. An adult weighs the same as eleven elephants, and yet they are the most acrobatic of all of the great whales, famous for breaching (jumping almost completely out of the water).

The waves slapped against the bow of the boat as it cut through the water. Vanessa leaned into the wind. This was wonderful.

Lee had said that the North Pacific whales were beginning to migrate up from the warm waters of
Hawaii to spend the summer here, and that later in the summer there would be many more. Fingers crossed that they would actually see a whale up close today.

They motored for about twenty minutes before Mr. Fox cut the engines.

“It was around here that I saw them. Sometimes they'll hang around for a bit if they are feeding. Keep watching out and you might see them blow.”

Almost immediately, Wayne let out a shriek.

“Look, I see one!” he said, pointing toward the stern of the boat.

Wayne, of course, would have to be the first to see a whale.

They moved quickly to the stern of the boat and waited. Vanessa held her breath and scanned the water, waiting for the large gray back to break the surface.

“I did see one,” Wayne insisted when nothing appeared.

“It's probably gone down, Wayne,” Mr. Fox said. He turned to Vanessa. “They can hold their breath for half an hour or more, so they can be miles away by the time they surface again.”

After another five minutes, Mr. Fox started the engines again and they moved off slowly.

Vanessa felt a deep and satisfying delight at the scowl on Wayne's face, but she managed not to crow.

Face to the wind, they resumed their journey, while Mr. Fox pointed out the various islands and bays named after the English and Spanish explorers who arrived in the eighteenth century.

“Before that point, it was a scattering of remote islands in the middle of nowhere. The Europeans brought civilization to the place and tried to educate the natives,” Mr. Fox said seriously.

The way he said it made Vanessa feel very uncomfortable. Wasn't that just like the Spanish conquistadors who wiped out the Aztecs, or the Europeans who did the same to the aboriginal tribes in Australia?

“I don't think they treated them very well, though, did they?” she said quietly, not at all sure she should be saying anything, but unable to stop herself.