I tired of this crowded mass and turned away walking to the opposite side. As I leaned against the vacant rail, to my complete astonishment, the orca breached 10 yards from me. The world went slo-mo. I looked into its eye and it looked right back. A gleaming, rubbery, black and white muscled form of unimaginable power and grace exchanged a timeless moment of mutual wonder with me. We somehow knew each other. Abruptly, the world came back and I sputtered incoherently to the rest of the boat, "over here ... whale, whale!" I missed my chance to yell “Thar she blows!” Another unnerving surge of humanity poured to the railing to see my whale, my killer whale, my orca. This whale wanted to see us as much as we wanted to see it. And what a show off! It danced and cavorted for a full half-hour, tale slapping, head standing, spinning jumps, sounding and rising on the other side of the boat to the delight of everyone. I stayed put. That infinite moment of communion sated a hunger I had never had. A moment to justify a life -- eye to eye with a killer whale, my wild and free friend. | |
