Chapter Seven
--The Vallejo Queen

Standing on the wharf two hours before sunrise, the Stephensons waved at Alex who raised the bill of a white skipper's cap and waved back as he slowly pressed forward on the throttle to increase the throb of the powerful diesel engines of the *Vallejo Queen*. He'd found that cap on a shelf near the helm. They had brought the sleeping bags aboard, and the women were catching a few more winks in a berth off the central corridor leading aft from the wheelhouse.

The rosy fingertips of dawn stirred among the rippled swells of the wine-dark bay as the Vallejo Queen passed beneath the span of the Dumbarton Bridge. The women, for lack of a chance at any real sleep amidst the loud grumble of the twin diesel engines, had been up and about since halfway between the Oakland Bay and San Mateo bridges, and were now seated on a bench set against the afterdeck wall on the starboard side. Shifting a steaming mug of coffee to one hand, Val pointed out through the wheelhouse windows. "Do you realize what that is out there?" Zelda, also cradling a mug of coffee in her hands looked at Valentina and shrugged. Val said, "Well, it's Palo Alto for godsakes!"

Marty heard that and came over to look out with them. "What did ya think?"

Valentina got up and swaying a bit, walked to the window. "Yesterday, I didn't notice we'd come all the way down here to the end of the South Bay. I mean, it all looks the same if you're not paying attention to directions, and all."

Zelda, who had come to her feet, moved in close beside Valentina to see for herself. She turned to Marty. "And you two actually expect to tow a whale all the way from here to Sausalito, or wherever and not get spotted by the Coast Guard?"

"Not." Marty laughed. "You kiddin'?"

"Well, what then?"

"The tow will be only to get him started to swimming on his own."

"What?" Alex looked over his shoulder. Marty walked over and gave him the jist of it. Alex turned and smiled. "Hey Babes, don't sweat it, we got it all under control."

"Don't call us 'babes'!" shouted Valentina.

Zelda smirked. "Look at him in that cruddy old skipper's cap. Thinks he's Humphrey Bogart or something.

"Yeah, like, in a scene from *To Have or Have Not*."

Zelda nodded. "It's gone to his head, that cap has."

With the sky considerably brighter, the sun was topping the southernmost run of the Berkeley Hills, as the Vallejo Queen entered the mouth of the Guadalupe Estuary. On the forward deck, Marty, with the women stood watching. A little way beyond the mouth they came in sight of an area on the starboard side where a growth of tule reeds were laying flat to the water forming a channel toward the shore. Frantically, of a sudden, they were all waving. Alex hit the gear shift, reversing power to the props, and when the boat slowed to a stop, he cut the engines. Reaching for a steel handled lever, he gave a yank which brought the sound of an anchor chain grating against the hull.

On the forward deck, the four now stood looking down the flattened channel of reeds. The only sound aside from the drone of a small plane and the distant horn of a ship was the slap of the swells lapping against the hull, the rush of water through the reeds. Then, came a sound most unusual, a big sound, a giant sound, a hot, loud, live noise of sputtering followed by a guttering gush of water and mist.

With a worried look, Val turned to Zelda. "His blows are coming at greater intervals than they were last night."

Zelda nodded. "Not a good sign."

"All right," said Alex. "Let's get this thing underway before he croaks on us." He pointed. "Marty, see if you and the girls can get those coils of nylon line into the dingy, while I round up some of this other gear up here."

Zelda came over to face him. "Valentina can help him. I want to see what kind of gear you're talking about, what you have in mind to do with this endangered animal, because I've got my eye on you Mr. Alexander MacPherd."

Alex motioned for her to proceed before him toward the bow. Once there, he pointed. "Okay, see if you can get a heft on the other end of this." He reached down to take hold of a large roll of canvas fitted with shining brass grommets and thick leather belts. As she struggled to lift her end, she said, "What on earth is this for?"

"This right here is our whale harness, m'lady." She looked up at him. He grinned. She rolled her eyes, grimaced and found that she could not budge her end.

Alex shrugged, Zelda walked past him, saying over her shoulder, "When you need some brain work done, let me know."

"Oh, I will," said Alex. "Marty!"

After the harness was stowed, along with a red and white *Igloo* cooler, and beside that a picnic basket, the girls took their seats, as the boys hauled down on the windlass. When the dingy was riding on the waves, the boys descended one at a time by a rope ladder. Once seated, Marty took the oars.

"You'll want to give him a wide berth," said Zelda. "These Grays have been known to make short work of a little dingy like this, along with the men in it, with one good blow from the flukes on that tale."

"Okay, Marty. Let's give him a good twenty, thirty feet." With an oar lifted from its lock, Alex poled on one side from the stern as Marty did likewise at the bow.

As the broad gray flank of the whale rose beside them, Marty stood staring agog. "Damn! Sure looks a lot more humungouser right up close like this."

"Actually, I've seen bigger," said Valentina.

Alex shoved against his oar. "Really?"

"A Blue Whale will go 80 to 90 feet," said Zelda. "These Grays average between 30 to 50 feet. This one's young, 35 to 40 feet, by the looks of him."

"Smells kinda like gunpowder, or somethin'." Alex sniffed.

Marty pointed. "He's watching us!"

Alex shaded his eyes with his hand "What a puny little eye that is."

"So it might appear," said Val, 'but would you be surprised to learn that it's probably about 5 inches in diameter that eye?"

Marty stared, his expression, incredulous. "Hey! Look at that. " All eyes followed the direction indicated by his finger to the snout of the whale as they came forward of it's massive head. "What's that red stuff on his nose?"

Alex leaned forward. "That's not blood, is it?"

Zelda strained to see. "Hard to tell, but it could be an abrasion from pushing in so close to shore."

"Possibly," said Val, "or it may be a red algae he's gotten his nose into."

Once they had come forward of the whale, they found that it lay about 12 feet from shore, its mouth submerged in two to three feet of water. They continued to pole in, all the way to the muddy shoal. The prow went aground and Alex stepped out over the bow.

"How is it," asked Marty watching Alex as he made his way further in.

"A little sloggy, not bad." He went four paces more and turned. "It's firming up.
It's okay. Throw me the rope!"

The waters of the bay were cold, but curiosity and excitement was hot as the
four began to wade through the tules into the mucky shallow waters to cover
the 12 feet or so between shore and the whale. Approaching, they glanced one to the other in awed mutual acknowledgment upon sight of a myriad of
little whirlpools forming in the water and spiraling down in their vortices to the closed mouth of the whale where it rested on the murky bottom.

Valentina waded closer. "He's taking in water and air, straining it through his baleens."

"He'll soon be sending it out through his blowhole, so be ready." Zelda on the port side looked over the top of the huge head.

Marty and Alex came moving in toward the snout, the upper hemisphere of which, leading to the forehead was above water and covered everywhere by barnacles and tufts of coarse hairs. Marty bent down for a closer look. "It's got red hair on its nose!"

"I'll be damned if it ain't." Alex glanced at Zelda as she came to his side.

She reached out to touch one of the tufts. "This explains the light blue of his eyes; it's a red-head, all right."

"God!" shouted Alex, jumping back as a sound of rushing air came from
beyond the rise of the dorsal hump.

"He's doing an intake," said Zelda.

Val chuckled. "Relax, Alex. He'll exhale and do a few more." No sooner had she said it, than it happened, and again, soon followed by another very long, loud intake.

"Now watch out!" Zelda stepped back. They all followed suit as in awe they saw a gusher of water shooting upward in a sun-lit arc spraying toward the port side of the animal. As the misty spray was clearing, wading back toward the huge red-tufted snout, Zelda said, "I hope you boys remember to bring your raincoats for this ride."

Around noon, they were back aboard the Vallejo Queen where they'd retired,
having decided to warm up and have their picnic lunch on the boat, where they might also plan their next moves. Alex popped the top of a beer and handed it to Zelda. "If you ask me, I'd say a whale was probably related to a penguin." He watched Zelda suddenly burst out laughing. "Well?" he said. "Why not? You ever see the ones that are black and white...those Orkies, or whaddyacallems, with those funny beaks they got?"

"Orcas," said Valentina.

"I hate to tell you, Alex," said Zelda, "But a penguin is a bird, not a mammal."

After regarding her for a moment he said, "Well, you don't have to be so rigid about it."

Val rolled her eyes. "It's *science*, dummy."

"I know that." Alex took a pull from his beer. "But, like you scientists, I used to think that whales mighta evolved from seals, but now I can see by looking with my own eyes, that they're just big, slightly overweight penguins is all. It's just a matter of looking." He took a big sip, smacked his lips. "Plain as day to the eye." He motioned with the can toward the whale. "That's an overgrown penguin over there."

Zelda looked at him. "I never heard anything so totally, stark raving goofy in my life!"

Alex shrugged one shoulder, and smiled.

"Not to change the subject or anything," said Marty, "but what on earth would cause one of these guys to just wanta come in and die like this?"

"Like we told you, it's a mystery."

"Not to me," said Alex.

"Omigod," said Zelda.

"Oh, well do tell," said Valentina waving her beer in deference.

"It's simple," said Alex, shifting to a more advantageous position on the coil of rope that served him. "It's the red nose."

"Oh really," said Zelda. 'How so?"

"It's Rudolf the Red Nosed Whale, here."

"Ah," said Val, "The Reindeer Rejection Syndrome."

"Ah, ah, ah!" said Zelda. "A clear case of clinical whale depression."

Val nodded. "Because all the other reindeer don't let Rudolf play in their reindeer games."

"Huh?" Marty shook his head.

Zelda in her lavender sweat-shirt and white shorts reclined on her side; a gray woolen blanket spread on the deck beneath her. A breeze tousled her hair. "Actually, it may be a tenable hypothesis."

"Ya think?" said Val.

"Fits with what you were talking about the other night, when you spoke of the runt of the litter, doesn't it?"

Marty looked toward the whale. "At thirty tons, that is some runt." He looked at Val. "Isn't that about what you said this one might weigh?"

"Yes, but we don't take the *runt of the litter* concept literally in every case. The ostracism can be spurred by other differences, size being just one possibility."

Zelda nodded. "And here perhaps we have a rare difference in coloration as the factor that results in shunning."

"Damn!" Alex nodded vigorously. "So what you're saying is that it's not the size, it's just that smallness is different, it's being different that does it every time," said Alex. "I knew it! And do you know why?"

"Why?" asked Zelda.

"Because when the people or the whales or the reindeer who are the same as all the rest see the guy who is different, they look at themselves and they say, "How come he gets to be different and I don't?"

"Go on," said Val.

"So then that whale who looks the same as all the rest looks at himself and he thinks, like, okay I'm different from that different guy, and I don't like being different from anything, not even from the thing that's different, and that difference is a disrespect to me." He looked at them in their silence. "So, he gets mean about it and starts to bug the different guy, just for reminding him of both things, that he, himself, is just one of the boring herd, and then by that, he is different from the different guy, and he hates that, hates both things. Makes him want to kill."

"And so that's why Rudolf the Red Nosed Whale is laying here dying," said Valentina.

"That's right," said Zelda. "Alex has a point."
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