This was not the day
    I'd planned or expected.

        How so?

I had in mind the usual–
    a little float on the surface,
        warming in the sun;
    breeching with my buddies,
        seeing who could make the biggest splash;
    a few deep dives,
        straining for krill through the ol' baleen.

        Sounds like the perfect day.

Yes, until, on one of my deepest dives,
    I rose to a world suddenly, inexplicably changed:
descending–
    watery sunlight sparkled above me;
ascending–
    I rose into grayness and chaos.
Instead of the rays of the sun,
    flashes of lightning;
instead of gentle swells;
    thunderous waves;
instead of blue skies,
    sheeting rain.
All, it seemed, in an instant,
    in the blink of an eye.

        How bizarre.

Oh, it gets stranger.

        Say more.

I saw, above me,
    the  underside of a ship,
a ship in trouble,
    the keel creaking,
the deck dipping below water.
    I could hear the shouts of men–
frightened men.

And then, one man overboard,
    plunging into the sea
in front of my nose.

Involuntarily, I gasped,
    and you will not believe what happened next.

        Yes?

My gasp sucked him in!

        What, now?

Yes! I swallowed him–
    into the mouth,
down the throat,
   into the stomach!

I felt him struggle,
    arms and legs thrashing against my insides.
Just when I thought I might up-swallow,
    he grew still.

He's dead, I thought.

        So whales eat people? Just curious.

No! Okay, rarely.
    I never have.
And I didn't eat him, did I?
    I just swallowed him whole.

        Ah, right.

Still not the strangest part of my tale,
    because, within a minute of my man-gulping,
out came the sun,
    down calmed the sea,
away sailed the boat.

I hung suspended near the surface,
    not sure what to do.
I felt sorry for the man,
    certain my digestive juices were turning him to mush,
when I heard, faintly and from within…
    singing.
The man was alive, inside of me,
    and singing.

        Singing?

Singing.
    Singing prayers.
I don't know a lot of man-words,
    but I understood "God"
and "help"
    and "sorry"
and "please."

This went on for quite a while,
    and the more he sang,
the more peaceful I felt.

I thought things through:
    If he's to survive this ordeal,
it will be in his interest
    for me to head toward man-country,
toward shore.
    So I did.

He sang on.
    The song moved me.
I cried as we approached the shallows.
    I puked.

        Oh, my.

Sorry–that was a bit abrupt,
    but it happened that abruptly.
I simply spit him up.

I watched him crawl his way to the sand.
    He rolled over, sat up and looked toward me.
He waved.

        Man waving to whale. I like that.

Me too.
    I believe it was a thank-you sort of wave.

        A remarkable story, to be sure.

One more remarkable addition:
    His song is still with me.
I can hear it even now,
    and I've learned to sing it myself–
"God…help…sorry…please"–
    and it brings me joy.

        I did not realize whales sang.

We didn't prior to this,
    but we do to this day.

Text and image © 2023 by Dirk deVries. All rights reserved.
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