Boxed In(51)
“I’m beginning to wonder if Stony Point elected a mayor who is part hound,” said Annie, laughing.
“Fin whales at port,” announced Todd. Annie saw a smooth line of whale back with a sleek dorsal fin rise out of the water and grabbed her camera just in time. The giant mammal exhaled, shooting a spout of moist air straight up like an exclamation point.
“Whoa!” she gasped. “They even breathe with power.”
“I’m going to pull up as close as I can,” said Todd. Look behind the whale’s head for the chevrons when it surfaces again.” He throttled up the boat with a light touch, inching closer. Annie leaned forward without thinking, instinctively trying to get as close to the fin whale as possible. The undulating movement of the whale captivated her. When the head broke the surface Annie squealed, “I see the stripes!” She kept staring. “It looks like there’s a shadow over part of it, but nothing to make it. It’s not from the boat.”
“You’re right. It’s not a shadow,” said Cecil. “Fin whales have asymmetrical coloring on their backs, light on one side and darker on the other.”
“I could watch them all day long!” said Annie. “I never want to lose this astonishment at God’s creation.”
“If you want to be amazed, watch a humpback breaching,” said Ian. “Fin whales aren’t much for breaching.”
“I’ve heard of a fin whale calf breaching in the Bay of Fundy,” said Cecil. “But I’ve never personally seen it, and I’ve been on the water most of my life as a fisherman and guide.”
They lingered to enjoy the fin whale for a long time. At one point it disappeared, and Annie wondered if it was time to explore another area. She had just turned to speak to Todd about it when the boat rocked from a jolt underneath. Annie grabbed at the dashboard, gripping the little wooden ledge Todd had made to right herself. “What’s happening?” Visions of submerged ledges and reefs rushed into her thoughts, although she thought they were too far from shore for that.
“Look port!” Ian urged, as he steadied her with a hand on her shoulder. Annie caught the long shadow of the whale emerging from under the boat.
“Is it mad or just being neighborly?” she asked, catching her breath.
“It’s being curious,” answered Todd.
“Maybe now would be a good time to look for some breaching humpbacks,” Annie suggested, only partially joking. The rocking boat reminded her the majestic giant wasn’t tame, and such power so close to them, even if it was simply out of curiosity, sent a tendril of chill down her spine.
“Ayup,” said Todd. He maneuvered away from the fin whale and gave some throttle. For the next hour they searched the water for signs of humpbacks or other whales, but saw neither flukes nor fins nor spouts. The sun was hovering low to the water when they all acknowledged that breaching was going to have to wait for another trip.
“I’m sorry, Annie,” said Ian, as the boat sped toward Stony Point harbor.
“Sorry? Oh, Ian, you have nothing to feel sorry for,” replied Annie. “What a gift y’all have given me today! I’m going to do what I can to make sure John can come whale watching next summer, including begging LeeAnn, if I have to.”
“If you can get him to the Maritime Museum in November, I think John might do the job for you,” Ian said, smiling with relief.
Annie patted the pocket in which her camera was nestled. “These photos will help too, I’m sure.” The sea air was getting colder by the minute as the wind kicked up. Annie’s coat had been enough to fight off the chill while the sun was higher, but now she fought the shivers, realizing one more layer of clothing might have been wise. She looked forward to gaining the harbor where the winds would be buffered.
They neared Butler’s Point, the firs and pines black against the sunset sky of pinks, lavenders, and blues. Countless times Annie had stood on her porch to watch the play of sunrise colors over the water. It had been a long time since she’d seen it the other way around. It was no wonder to her why Gram and Grandpa had chosen to put down roots in Stony Point.
17
The morning after her whale-watching adventure—while the sun announced its imminent appearance by painting the canvas of sky with shades of cornflower blue, cerulean, melon, and yellow ochre—Annie placed the zippered tote containing the birch-bark box in the passenger seat of the Malibu and walked around to slide behind the steering wheel. She had several hours to drive and wanted to arrive at Sipayik before lunchtime. The meandering road of Route 1 beckoned her with its autumn splendor.