whenever needed; Dad suggested some surfing lessons, if Milt thought he still needed them.
‘Thanks,’ replied Milt. ‘I’ll see how it goes. Anyway, I won’t be doing much surfing for a while. I’m heading back to England to spend Christmas with my mother. So you’ll have the bay to yourselves. I’ll be back before New Year.’
‘Aw,’ complained Stephanie, who probably had visions of dining with Milt every day.
Milt saw her disappointment and said, ‘You haven’t been in my elevator yet, have you? Would you like a ride down to the beach?’
‘Yes, please!’ she shouted, jumping out of her seat.
In line with the new policy, everyone had to go to the beach. I noticed that Stephanie made sure she was on the opposite side of the elevator to me. Maybe she imagined that if she were too close, somehow I would make the thing crash.
We were part-way down when Stephanie pointed to the water and said, ‘Look! There’s something swimming out there.’
‘Is it a dolphin?’ asked Vicky, excitedly.
‘No,’ replied Milt. ‘I think it’s one of the smaller whales.’
‘A whale!’ squealed Stephanie. ‘How cool!’
I looked and, yes, it was a whale. Immediately, I began searching for another one, which I soon found. Except this one wasn’t in the water—it was washed up on the beach. I glanced across to Dad, and he returned my look with a sad shake of his head. He knew that we were in for a tough time.
The whales that strand in Whale Pot Bay were usually sick. In the past we’d struggled for many long, emotionally charged hours trying to save them. Yet never once had we been successful. And by what I could see of these ones, there was nothing to indicate that this time would be any different to the others.
Chapter 9
There are three species of sperm whales, all identified by the bulging spermacetti organ that sits in front of the brain. This contains oil and is part of the whales’ echolocation system which is how they find their way in the depths of the ocean. The organ allows sound waves to be focused so that the whales can detect things at a greater distance. It was this oil that was much sought after by early whalers, as it made excellent, smoke-free candles.
The most commonly known sperm whale can grow up to eighteen metres long. They are the ones that tourists usually see off the coast of Kaikoura, a couple of hundred kilometres south of Whale Pot Bay. The other two species are the dwarf sperm whale and the pygmy sperm whale. The ones washed up on our beach were the pygmy species. There are more strandings of these in New Zealand than of any other whale. Unlike their much bigger cousins, they do not live in pods. Hence they usually strand as single animals. If there are two, it will be a mother and her calf. That was the case at our beach that day.
Nobody said anything as we walked over the sand towards the beached whale. Stephanie still hadn’t seen it, as she was too busy staring at the whale in the water. We were almost there when she turned and recognized what it was. Her hand went to her mouth as she stifled a cry. Vicky moved to put an arm around her and guide her the rest of the way.
The whale on the beach was the calf, which meant it was about the same size as me. It would be the mother out in the water. She was about four metres long, and she was swimming along the swells as they washed into the beach. There was no doubting that she had come ashore to be near her calf.
At first it seemed that the baby was dead, for it lay on its side, with its eye closed. There was no sign of movement. However, when Dad knelt down and touched it, the eye opened for a moment before closing again. It was alive, but only just.
‘Can we save it?’ asked Stephanie with tears in her eyes.
Dad shook his head slowly. ‘I doubt it.’
Stephanie stared at him. ‘We’ve got to try, though,’ she cried.
‘Yes, Steph,’ he said gently. ‘We’ll try. We always do. But it wouldn’t have come ashore
‘Thanks,’ replied Milt. ‘I’ll see how it goes. Anyway, I won’t be doing much surfing for a while. I’m heading back to England to spend Christmas with my mother. So you’ll have the bay to yourselves. I’ll be back before New Year.’
‘Aw,’ complained Stephanie, who probably had visions of dining with Milt every day.
Milt saw her disappointment and said, ‘You haven’t been in my elevator yet, have you? Would you like a ride down to the beach?’
‘Yes, please!’ she shouted, jumping out of her seat.
In line with the new policy, everyone had to go to the beach. I noticed that Stephanie made sure she was on the opposite side of the elevator to me. Maybe she imagined that if she were too close, somehow I would make the thing crash.
We were part-way down when Stephanie pointed to the water and said, ‘Look! There’s something swimming out there.’
‘Is it a dolphin?’ asked Vicky, excitedly.
‘No,’ replied Milt. ‘I think it’s one of the smaller whales.’
‘A whale!’ squealed Stephanie. ‘How cool!’
I looked and, yes, it was a whale. Immediately, I began searching for another one, which I soon found. Except this one wasn’t in the water—it was washed up on the beach. I glanced across to Dad, and he returned my look with a sad shake of his head. He knew that we were in for a tough time.
The whales that strand in Whale Pot Bay were usually sick. In the past we’d struggled for many long, emotionally charged hours trying to save them. Yet never once had we been successful. And by what I could see of these ones, there was nothing to indicate that this time would be any different to the others.
Chapter 9
There are three species of sperm whales, all identified by the bulging spermacetti organ that sits in front of the brain. This contains oil and is part of the whales’ echolocation system which is how they find their way in the depths of the ocean. The organ allows sound waves to be focused so that the whales can detect things at a greater distance. It was this oil that was much sought after by early whalers, as it made excellent, smoke-free candles.
The most commonly known sperm whale can grow up to eighteen metres long. They are the ones that tourists usually see off the coast of Kaikoura, a couple of hundred kilometres south of Whale Pot Bay. The other two species are the dwarf sperm whale and the pygmy sperm whale. The ones washed up on our beach were the pygmy species. There are more strandings of these in New Zealand than of any other whale. Unlike their much bigger cousins, they do not live in pods. Hence they usually strand as single animals. If there are two, it will be a mother and her calf. That was the case at our beach that day.
Nobody said anything as we walked over the sand towards the beached whale. Stephanie still hadn’t seen it, as she was too busy staring at the whale in the water. We were almost there when she turned and recognized what it was. Her hand went to her mouth as she stifled a cry. Vicky moved to put an arm around her and guide her the rest of the way.
The whale on the beach was the calf, which meant it was about the same size as me. It would be the mother out in the water. She was about four metres long, and she was swimming along the swells as they washed into the beach. There was no doubting that she had come ashore to be near her calf.
At first it seemed that the baby was dead, for it lay on its side, with its eye closed. There was no sign of movement. However, when Dad knelt down and touched it, the eye opened for a moment before closing again. It was alive, but only just.
‘Can we save it?’ asked Stephanie with tears in her eyes.
Dad shook his head slowly. ‘I doubt it.’
Stephanie stared at him. ‘We’ve got to try, though,’ she cried.
‘Yes, Steph,’ he said gently. ‘We’ll try. We always do. But it wouldn’t have come ashore
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