Roddy along with his Father and sister return to Longstreet to see if Rhys and Jack will be able to succeed in towing the dead whale off the foreshore and back into the Channel thus saving their village from the threat of being engulfed in a stinking cloud from rotting whale.
As his elder sisters were not interested and his Mother liked to rest after Sunday lunch, only B and his Father were ready to accompany him back to Longstreet to see the attempt to tow the whale out to sea. The drive to Longstreet along the coast road in his Father’s car was such a contrast to the drive that morning with Rhys and his rattletrap van. His Father was a very experienced driver and always kept his car in excellent condition, so the drive was smooth and without drama. They parked in the Inn car park and Roddy led them across the road, past the Church and down the track that skirted the gardens of the cottages where Rhys and John lived. He pointed out Rhys’ cottage as they passed by, and then led them across the little bridge and up the top of the sea bank.
The day was still warm and sunny and very clear so that the view from the top of the sea bank was expansive. On the far side of the Channel they could see the hills plainly but the focus of their immediate interest was the whale, which lay in the foreground, unchanged since the morning and still with its attendant crowd of gulls. Roddy had bought his binoculars with him and was able to train them on to the whale. It was with a sad gasp that he saw that the birds had already pecked out the eyes of the whale. The rest of the giant sea mammal was not so easy for them and they had not made much of a dent in its thick black skin. The gulls and a few crows were perched on the back of the whale, pecking hopefully at it. Eventually one of the birds would make a hole in the skin and then it would be relatively easy to exploit that and feast on the soft flesh beneath. He looked across at his Father and B and noticed that the exotic sight had captivated them.
“That is huge. I had never realized how big a whale could be as I had only ever seen them in pictures or on television.” His Father’s voice was tinged with awe. B was just silent but Roddy could tell that she was enthralled with the sight before her.
“Can you imagine what I felt when I saw it this morning just after the tide had left it. It was much blacker and glossier then and of course the eyes were still intact and I could see that there was life in the beast still.”
B turned to him with a new respect. “Did you walk up to it then? Weren’t you afraid?”
“Perhaps a little, but although it was huge it was not moving and neither could it. It did cross my mind that it might flip its tail when I was nearby. When I walked up and stood next to its head and looked into that great dark, liquid eye, I knew that I was safe and all I felt was a great sorrow for the poor creature.”
He looked again at the whale, with its attendant gaggle of squawking and screaming birds, and felt another surge of regret that such a huge and magnificent creature should come to such a meaningless end as a carcass stuck in a bowl of slimy mud being attacked by crows and seagulls. Adding to the incongruity was the beautiful late afternoon that surrounded them. The sun was still high, though clearly in the descendant, and the daylight had already softened slightly producing a warm golden effulgence around them. The people who had gathered noisily to watch the spectacle of the whale being towed out to sea, and perhaps some amusing and entertaining mishaps as well, began to fall silent as the soft golden light settled on them. In front of them, the white line of breaking waves showed that the tide was rapidly advancing, but as there was little in the way of wind, the waves were not large and so the tide’s advance was almost a gentle whispering whoosh as if the soft light had subdued it too. Roddy was reminded of some pictures that he had seen in a book illustrating Biblical stories where the pictures showed clouds made luminous by the sun’s rays. He understood what the illustrator had in mind; the light representing the presence of God, and had always found it to be just a crude piece of trickery. Yet, as the evening developed he found that the light was having an effect on him, almost as if the world was paying reverence to the death of the great whale and indicating that such a marvelous creature could not leave this world without its passing being marked. Beyond the whale he could see the hills on the opposite shore of the Channel changing from a bright green to a blue-green colour under the changing light that enhanced the scene before them.
His reverie was broken by the throbbing sound of an engine and turning he saw that John and Rhys had already launched the boat and were making their slow way down the gout, which was already filling with the incoming tide. The boat was small and made to look even smaller by the great bulk of John sitting in the stern and cradling the tiller under his arm. Rhys had the line that was attached to the whale and was giving it several turns around the bow post. John’s boat was indeed small but very tidy. It was a clinker built boat and John had kept it very neat and clean with a fresh coat of white paint. It was completely open with just a box amidships, which must contain the inboard engine. Rhys was standing and trying to keep his balance while managing the towline. John controlled the engine speed from a handle that was set at the rear of the engine cover and he had to lean forward to make any change in speed. Roddy thought that this must be a very awkward arrangement but he seemed to manage it easily.
John and Rhys had launched the boat from a slipway located near where the gout spilled through the seabank and they were moving seaward, rising steeply then falling back quickly on the waves that were higher as the incoming tide concentrated its power in the narrow gout. Roddy wondered if they had launched too early, as the tide still seemed to have a long way to go before the full.
“I don’t see how they will shift that great lump with that tiny thing,” said Roddy’s Father. “That engine sounds rather rough too and it does not seem to have much power.”
Roddy rather agreed with him but then he also thought of how both Rhys and John had both sailed and fished these waters for many years and probably knew far more about it than landlubbers like he and his Dad.
The little boat kept moving steadily seaward and made no attempt to get close to the whale carcass. Roddy could not understand what they were doing and how, by setting this course, they would ever be able to float the whale off its muddy grave and out to the open sea. Still they kept moving slowly seaward and the line was now stretched out at right angles to the tiny craft. Then Rhys began to move toward the stern, taking the line with him until he reached where John was sitting and took several turns of the line around a small brass bollard on the side of the boat. During this operation, John put the engine into neutral and the boat began to drift landward again. Roddy suddenly realized why they did that. As the gout was lined with wooden stakes, they had to keep the line from snagging on them, so they had to keep it free of the stakes until they were more or less abreast of the whale before moving the line to the normal towing position.
The tide continued its advance and he now noticed that the whale was moving slightly and starting to roll in time with the waves. It would soon be floating and Jack, by keeping his boat in the gout, which ran as a deeper water channel out to sea, did not have to risk running aground on the mud while the whale, once afloat would be pulled slowly into the deeper water channel behind his boat. Also, by making use of the deeper water in the gout they would be able to pull the whale far out to sea before the tide began to ebb and so make sure that the tide did not wash it back into the shallow water again. They needed to pull the whale far enough out to sea so that it would be caught up in one of the Channel’s fierce tidal currents and swept far down Channel and hopefully eventually sink beneath its murky waters.
Jack’s boat continued to hold its position as he and Rhys looked across at the whale waiting for it to float. The carcass began to roll on the incoming waves and Rhys turned to Jack and said something. Jack adjusted the throttle on his boat and it began to move slowly and steadily seaward and the line tautened until there was a perceptible tug on the whale’s tail. The boat slowed suddenly and Roddy wondered if they had miscalculated and would not be able to shift the giant carcass. A second tug on the line caused it to snap taut and a thin spray of water sprang up from it as the rope strands tightened and squeezed out the water that had soaked into it. Then the whale’s carcass moved a little more and a cheer went up from the little crowd that was leaning forward so as to catch every bit of this unusual event. Several more tugs later and the sporadic jerks gave way to a steady movement as the whale suddenly began to slide over the incoming tide. Boat and whale slowly gathered speed and began to head steadily for the deeper waters of the Channel. It looked as if they were being very cautious so as not to break the towline or pull it off the whale’s tail. Several of the crowd had wondered aloud if the carcass of the dead whale would stay afloat. Some said it would sink but others pointed out that there was probably enough gas inside it to keep it buoyant.
Everyone watched anxiously to see which group was right. The huge whale carcass continued to float along even though it wallowed deeply in the waves that spilled over its back. A soft sigh of relief went up from the watching crowd who, being mostly from Longstreet, had no wish to have the rotten stench of a disintegrating whale envelop their village for the next several days or even weeks.
As Jack’s little boat and the black mass of the whale receded into the Channel, the little crowd of onlookers began to melt away into the golden light of the glorious early summer evening. Roddy still stood stock still, training his binoculars on that sad sight even as it retreated from him, and reflecting once again on the profound sorrow that he felt about the death of the only whale that he had ever encountered. The sight of the life spark fading from that great limpid black eye would stay in his consciousness forever. He wondered how far out into the Channel they would take the whale’s carcass before casting it adrift to the fates of tides and churning currents.
“Well, I’ll be blowed!” was the expostulation from his heretofore-silent Father. “I really never thought that they would be able to tow that great thing out with that little boat. I had visions of the boat tugging hard and failing to dislodge that big beast and their little engine breaking down under the strain. This deserves a little celebration. Let’s go and see Harry at The Bell and have a jar of ale. Or at least I shall have a jar and you children can have some pop and crisps. It’s a nice warm evening and you can sit out in front or in the garden while I chat with Harry. I haven’t seen the old bugger for a while.”
The walk from the sea bank to The Bell that evening was magical. The sound of the waves from the advancing tide wafted over the sea bank and was the background accompaniment to the joyous singing of blackbirds and thrushes who seemed inspired by the deepening golden light that was now filtering softly through the trees, casting smoky purple shadows on the meadows. Insects buzzed in the reed beds as if they were jolted into a frenzy of activity by the warm evening. There was no talk between Father and children. They simply walked along in single file casting long glances to left and right, in thrall to the magic of that evening. Except for the birds, all creatures seemed reduced to silence as if in awe at the beauty around them. Sheep and cows in the pasture were subdued and there was just an occasional gentle lowing or a muted bleating as if even the animals were remarking in soft tones at the marvel around them. Even the few stragglers from the crowd that had assembled on the bank to watch Jack’s little boat pull the whale out to sea, were walking silently.
At the Inn door Roddy’s Father suddenly came alive as if shaking himself from a trance, straightened up and told them to follow him inside and be on their best behaviour. He led them into the room labeled “Lounge Bar” and they were greeted by the sight of a large stone fire place and walls that were covered with brass pots, pans and, very strangely, what looked like Zulu spears and other artifacts from Africa. Although he had been into many public house bars with his Father, none were as strange and fascinating as this place. He was so entranced by what he saw on the walls that he didn’t hear his Father asking him what he wanted to drink. It took several repetitions of the question before it penetrated his brain and he was able to think of what he wanted and tell his Father. B had already made her request. His Father turned back to the bar and made the order and then began a conversation with the rather portly man behind it. Roddy recognized Harry and immediately lost interest in their conversation and instead turned back to examine the weapons and shields that covered the walls. The brass pans and other decorations were highly polished and he assumed that the strangely aggressive lady in the turban that everyone called Vicky, must be responsible for keeping them so bright. More interesting than the various pieces of shiny brass were the spears and shields, some of which were arranged in a diagonal cross with the shield at the centre. The spears were of wood and were elaborately decorated with what looked like fur and feathers. The shields were of what appeared to be skin stretched over a framework and the skins themselves were decorated in a geometric pattern. He had seen many examples of medieval weapons and shields but never anything like this.
Just then his Father came up behind him with a glass of fizzing lemonade.
“Admiring the Zulu spears and shields are you?’
“Is that what they are. How did they end up here?”
“I don’t know the full story,” said his Father,” but it I think one of Harry’s ancestors was a soldier in the Zulu wars and brought them home with him as souvenirs.”
Roddy turned back to admire the exotic weapons. His mind filled with images of Zulu warriors brandishing those spears. It seemed so incongruous and curious that these weapons from a far off continent had ended up in a room in an inn in the insubstantial and essentially isolated village of Longstreet. Pubs loved to decorate their walls with interesting and colourfull items but most of the ones he had seen before were clearly more local and not as foreign looking as these
B brought her drink over from the bar where his Father was now deep in a cheery conversation with his friend Harry. The landlord was a large fellow with a flushed face and a smile that seemed to be permanent. He beamed at everyone including his Father and was able to continue a conversation while his eyes scanned his customers and the state of their drinks and his bare arms worked at washing glasses and pulling the great levers on the beer engines and turning to drain measures of liquor from the upside down bottles arranged along the shelves at the rear of the bar. Everything was decorated to make the place cheery and interesting with glasses adorned with various crests and brightly coloured cloths covering the surface of the bar. The use of polished brass and copper was evident everywhere. There were small pots and cups, shields, plaques and the ubiquitous horse brasses. The entire effect was bright and cheerful and even the smell of the beer was pleasant and added considerably to the effect of an agreeable and soothing cocoon in which to spend one’s time.
Roddy was looking around and enjoying the atmosphere when he felt B tugging at his sleeve and he turned to see her moving toward a door at the back of the bar. Wondering what she wanted he followed her through the narrow doorway and was surprised to find himself facing a pleasant garden with arbors and wooden benches. Baskets of flowers hung from the arbors and there were flowerbeds around the edge of the lawn. He was unused to such a profusion of colour in a garden as their garden at home was rather bare with just shrubs and fruit trees and patches of bare earth covered in weeds despite the occasional determined attempts to cultivate vegetables.
They found a bench that was bathed by the rays of the slowly setting sun and arranged themselves on it, putting their drinks on a conveniently placed table. Roddy stretched himself out and yawned. It had been a long, exciting and very stressful day and the first waves of exhaustion were beginning to wash over him. After all, he had left his warm bed before dawn this morning so that he would be able to see the wading birds on the sea grass before the receding tide exposed the mud flats and they could move away, and he had never expected that he would encounter a stranded whale and have to spend the remainder of a very long day trying to arrange for it to be rescued. It had been an emotionally draining day also and he was surprised at the deep effect of the animal’s death on him. Even now he could still clearly visualize that moment when the light suddenly faded from the whale’s dark bright eye and he realized with a great shock that the whale had died, right there, in front of him. Never had he seen an animal die before and the shock of seeing that great creature die in before his eyes continued to reverberate inside his head.
B could see that he was pensive and she asked him what he was thinking. He was so deep in his thoughts that she had to repeat herself and also give him a dig in is side with her elbow before turned to her bemusedly.
“Come on, I don’t; want to just sit here in silence. Tell me what you are thinking.”
Roddy took a deep breath before launching into the entire story of the day and all of the tumultuous feelings that wracked his body and his unexpected feelings of closeness to that great beast. As he did so, tears began to role down his cheeks and rolled faster and more copiously as he laid bare all of his feelings and fears. B laid her hand on his shoulder and began to rub it slowly. She could not fully understand what her brother was feeling so profoundly that it caused him to cry like this, but she responded to his despair and the sobs that wracked his body. Relating all of his deep feelings and the tears that came from the re-living of that day slowly drained all of the accumulated tension from him and his sobs quietened and the tears began to abate.
“I know it might sound strange and overwrought to be so emotional over the death of such an animal, but I think it was when I looked into his eye and at that moment a connection seemed to flash across the space between us. A brief moment of mutual recognition that hit me like an electric shock.”
B just nodded. “I can understand it I think, even though I was not there. I know you too and you are the sort of person to feel things deeply. I have seen how you react to stories of injustice, even small ones, and know that they cause an almost physical reaction in you.”
Roddy nodded, she was right he did react strongly when he saw people or animals being treated unjustly. The first time that he read Black Beauty, he was in tears at Sewell’s description of the horse being maltreated by the handsom-cab owner. Even though he later realized that the owner was also hard done by, it was the graphic description of the cruelty suffered by the horse that made him grind his teeth in suppressed anger and made tears prick his eyes.
The sun was now beginning to sink rapidly and its rays were illuminating the tight tangles of branches in the hedges and making the trees shimmer in the soft reddish-gold light. Birdsong was becoming muted as if they too recognized that it was the end of the day and it was time to rest and refresh themselves for a new day to come. Both children were content to just sit and absorb the stealthy onset of dusk and Roddy reflected on the whale and decided that the growing silence of that golden evening was a fitting tribute to its death. Suddenly the sun sank below the horizon and the shadows took on a deep lavender hue that spread around them in the arbor. The birds quieted and Roddy and his sister joined in the descending silence.
LAMBY MEMORIES 