4.25 The Abyss of WonderLand
Kyle said we could come back for snack seconds in the galley, as he called it. He told us that was the official name for the kitchen on a yacht, but he also mentioned a scullery and a mess. More boat talk. (The captain had already told us about the aft, which was the back, and the bow, which was the front of the boat, while Kyle had taught us that the head was a bathroom, which made absolutely no sense to me because it seemed like we used the head for the opposite end of our bodies!) While Kyle was treating us to our latest batch of boat vocabulary words, (port, port bow, port quarter, starboard, starboard bow, starboard quarter and stern, which I’m not going to describe because I can’t remember any of it.) Anyway, while he was doing that, he handed out more bottles of water. The sun was out, and even with a very pleasant breeze, we were all feeling parched. Even the two bodyguards chose water that time, instead of beer. It was at that time that Kyle recommended we all reapply our suntan lotion. Because drawing attention to it, made me aware that my skin was already reacting to the heavy doses of sunshine on ocean top. After we creamed our bodies and drank more water, I finally used my binoculars for the first time: rolling water, a bit of white caps here and there, lots of sea birds, and six boats off in the distance. The captain wasn’t talking. I think he was taking a bathroom break, so the three men talked about the photos they’d gotten. I was the only one not to have taken a picture. “We’re approaching another sighting,” the captain suddenly said, having climbed back on his post. We once more rushed over to the side he told us to go to. (I can’t remember the nautical term, but I just followed the captain’s pointer finger.) This time, we saw a tail. The whale posed it up in the air for a moment, and then he was gone. Not a very spectacular performance, but it was okay because another pod of dolphins had decided to hang out with us for a while. The rest of the trip was not quite as exciting. The whales had decided to stay down in the deep. The pod of dolphins soon deserted us. A lone sea lion swam by, giving us the eye, as if inspecting us to see if we were worth his time. We failed to be of interest. The captain started talking about birds as we waited for any further whale showings. He gestured to lots of shearwaters, a cormorant, several pelicans, and a sea of seagulls, if you get the pun. And if we’d taken a count, I know we might have gotten a prize for seeing the most dolphins, all of them the common dolphin, according to Captain Joe. How anything as beautiful and graceful as a dolphin can be called common, I’ll never understand. Ornithologists, the ones who named the dolphins that common name, shame on you!
4.24 The Abyss of WonderLand
The whale surfaced and blew out a big shoot of water. “It’s a gray whale,” the captain said, but I didn’t care. I was seeing my first real whale, one out in the ocean and free! He was the most gorgeous, unbelievable, incredible creature I’d ever seen in my life. “Get a picture,” Bob cried out, and I remembered my camera at that moment, but I was frozen. I couldn’t look away from the beauty of the whale. Perhaps beauty wasn’t the best description. The whale we were watching was saddled with hundreds of big patches of barnacles. I wanted to jump into the water and pull them off of him, one by one. It seemed so unfair that he should have to carry such a burden. The captain, when I asked about the patches, explained that the barnacles stayed on a whale for life. He told me that sometimes a gray whale had to carry hundreds of pounds of barnacles as he streamed through the water. And the nasty things never let go! This particular whale remained on the surface for several moments of frozen time, then decided to go back down. He didn’t wave a fin at us or jump out of the water or anything. He seemed completely oblivious to us and to the other boats surrounding him, all at a considerable distance. “That one’s an old male,” the captain said. I didn’t ask how he knew such things. The captain was an experienced whale watcher, so I just assumed he knew. When the whale was gone, I sank onto our benchlike seat and drank the rest of my bottled water. Timothy sat down beside me. “Happy?” he asked. That was the silliest question I’d ever been asked. I threw my arms around Timothy and kissed him fully on the mouth. Despite our audience, we enjoyed the moment. But then I suddenly realized that I needed to go to the bathroom. Urgently. I’d finished the bottle of water, and now . . . “I gotta go,” I said, bolting up. I would have been fine to walk there on my own. I knew where the bathroom was, since Kyle had told us, but Timothy walked me there anyway. The boat was stopped, and we were swaying with the ocean, rocking back and forth, so I was actually grateful to have Timothy by my side, holding me steady. As the captain had said, we didn’t have our sea legs yet. After I came out, Timothy followed my example. Then Bob and Terry showed up just as Timothy was coming out. Apparently, the consumed liquid and all the excitement had hit us at the same time. When we returned to our seating area, Kyle came around with a selection of snacks. He even had some half sandwiches that Bob grabbed onto. I swear that guy could eat more than a grizzly bear preparing for winter. But Terry also selected a couple of sandwiches. It seemed he he was hungry, too. I chose a red apple, of course. Timothy took some black licorice. I laughed at that. Who could have pictured Timothy liking licorice?
4.23 The Abyss of WonderLand
Kyle returned with cold drinks. I chugged down water, although it wasn’t hot that day. It was actually cold due to the ocean breeze, but I felt parched anyway. I noticed the others were doing the same thing. Terry had downed his beer before I managed a second sip from my water bottle, and Bob wasn’t far behind, tipping his can to drink the last dregs. “Monitor the amount,” Timothy ordered, watching Terry, especially. Did Terry have a drinking problem? I wondered/ But as soon as the thought hit me, I knew it was silly. Timothy would never hire someone who over-boozed. “As I was saying,” the captain went on with his lecture. “Whales are warm-blooded.” That warm-blooded part was hard to believe. If I were a whale, I’d demand a heater, a sleeping bag, and a heavy wet suit, none of which whales had access to in the depths of the ocean. The water was super cold. Even in San Diego, the water that had sprayed us as the yacht chugged forward, felt icy. San Diego was a lot warmer than in the north where we lived. People did go swimming in Santa Cruz, but, but only in August or inside full wet suits. If someone dove into the ocean just in a swimsuit, they’d be shivering in minutes. Yes, I know, all the whale blubber helps to keep them warm, but really. Warm blooded? Everything we were being told about the whales was absolutely amazing!! An alarm suddenly sounded. The captain ran back up to the captain’s perch, or whatever they called it. He didn’t look panicked. “What’s wrong?” I asked Timothy, not that I expected him to know, but it did seem like he always had experience with things I didn’t. “It’s fine, Penelope. There’s no boat near us, and even though we’re slowing down, I don’t think it’s a break-down of the motor. No reason to get nervous, darling.” Actually, I hadn’t been overly nervous until Timothy said that. But at that moment, I realized how far we were from the shore, from the concrete and solid harbor where we’d embarked. I won’t say that I panicked, but, we were currently in the middle of the ocean, way too far to swim back to shore. That was a a bit of a panicky thought. But not really. Not with boats all around. And the captain had a radio, and . . . “We have a whale sighting. Look starboard. Over there, land lovers,” the captain suddenly said, pointing to the other side of the boat. Like we had with the dolphins, the four of us all sped to the railing and stared out at the sea, hoping to see a fin or the tail-tail oil slick we’d been told to look for. That was what the captain had told us was a whale’s footprint. A moment later, I saw water shooting up into the sky. “There!” I called out. “That’s a whale, isn’t it?”
4.22 The Abyss of WonderLand
“The dolphins like to catch our wake,” the captain said. “I guess it’s like boogie boarding, at least that’s what a teenager told me.” We each had binoculars on a cord around our necks, but none of us bothered to use them. The dolphins weren’t swimming at a distance. They were right under our boat, their eyes staring up at us, quizzingly. One came so close I could have reached out to touch him, but the captain had warned us not to do that. Dolphins were playful, but they were wild. One of them might grab a person’s hand and pull him down into the water. “A woman drowned that way,” the captain had told us. “Not on my craft, though. I’d never let a passenger do something that stupid.” “Why did they grab her?’ Bob asked. The explanation was that the dolphins probably just wanted to play with the woman. The captain sighed and gave a head shake that involved a disgusted snort. “We’ll never know what wild animals are thinking since they can’t talk to us. Perhaps they don’t understand that humans need more air than they do. Maybe they figured the woman could survive without breathing? Who knows. But humans are fragile, even more so than dolphins. Before the boat’s crew could rescue her, the woman was gone. She’d drowned. No teeth marks, of course. No sign of violence other than being dragged into the water.” I could understand the woman’s temptation to touch the dolphins, to reach out and connect with them. There was something in the way the dolphins tilted their heads and made their funny sounds: clicking, barking, squealing, wailing like babies, and entreating us to come play with them. But the dolphins were also opening and closing their mouths, and we could see the heavy rows of teeth. Dolphins were carnivores, and even though the captain assured us that they wouldn’t eat a person and preferred fish, I had absolutely no inclination to dive in and swim with them. The dolphins remained with us for less than ten minutes, then sped off, probably looking for more entertainment among the boats we could see in the distance. Captain Joe said a school of dolphins could swim more than twenty miles an hour. That was easy to believe because one moment, the dolphins were bobbing about in their wonderful silliness, and then suddenly like a speeding jet, they were gone, only a silver image in the water, that disappeared in seconds.
4.21 The Abyss of WonderLand
Kyle came running, nodded to each of us, then asked what we’d like. “We got beers, sodas, water, fruit juice, wine, and liquor. What’s your poison?” he said. The guy first turned to Timothy, probably figuring him to be the big shot of the group. (Does rich shine from the pores? Is it something in their eyes? Do the rich carry themselves differently than us poor folk?) Timothy glanced down at me. “What would you like, darling?” my fiancé asked, ignoring the fact that Kyle had been addressing him. Wow. Now I’d thought that word twice. Fiancé, it did sound nice. I almost purred around the word, rolling it about my tongue. “A bottle of water, please,” I said, realizing that everyone was staring at me. “Do you guys have coffee?” Timothy asked. “My girl always wants coffee.” “Sure,” Kyle said. “We’ve got a coffee pot, but coffee sometimes makes folks seasick. I don’t recommend it unless you’ve got your sea legs already.” “Just, water,” I repeated, not wanting to risk that. Vomiting over the side of the boat definitely didn’t appeal. Terry and Bob both asked for a beer. Timothy, like me, requested water. “Okay, now that we have all that settled,” the captain continued. “Where were we? Oh yes, Mammals,” he continued. “Look,” Terry suddenly called out. And there they were, not whales, but dolphins, an entire school of them. Probably twenty or more, if I could count that fast, because they were spinning and walking backwards on their tails, then whirling around, and diving under the yacht, only to return in seconds. It was so cool. These weren’t the tamed or trained dolphins of Sea World, but wild animals that had come up from the depths of the sea just to flirt with us. Some of them were doing the same spectacular jumps in the air we’d watched the day before in the Dolphin Arena. At the amusement park, those dolphins had worked for fish and were given whistled prompts to do their tricks. These wild dolphins were doing their fancy moves just for the pure fun of it.
4.20 The Abyss of WonderLand
Captain Joe had begun his lecture by explaining about whale migration. He told us that we were going out at a good time of year. December to April is ideal for observing the various cetaceans and other marine mammals, he told us, for that’s when these beautiful mammals swim north during their yearly journey. That’s when I learned that whales were mammals. They have hair when they are born the captain told us. (Humpback whales even keep the hair on their faces. Does that mean they have beards, moustaches or whiskers I wanted to ask.)Whales breathe air just like we do, except the captain explained that they can hold their breath a lot better than we can. He told us that whales don’t need to breathe for a good thirty to ninety minutes, depending on the species. We were also informed that whales gave birth to their young underwater. I couldn’t imagine producing a baby (a very big baby) in the middle of the ocean! But at least those babies never cried in the middle of the night, and no diapers were ever needed. (Of course that means they pooped in the ocean. If you think about all the fish and whales swimming around, plus sea snakes, octopuses, squid, and sea turtles, that’s a lot of poop! Good thing the ocean is so big.) When Captain Joe added that the whale mother produces milk for their calves, Bob let out a, “No way. They don’t have any boobs, do they?” I thought Timothy was going to go ballistic. I tightened my hold on his hand, and he looked down at me. “Sorry, my darling. I didn’t mean to employ uncouth thugs.” Bob heard that and grew white as a bone. “Sorry, Penelope. I didn’t mean anything by it. I just . . .” He stopped due to the elbow in his ribs from Terry, so he probably didn’t see Timothy’s glare. The captain merely waited for us to simmer down. “You can’t see their mammary glands because the mother has inverted nipples. When the calf nudges one, the nipple pops out with milk that is extremely fat-rich. A baby can drink ten percent of its body weight per day. That is a lot of milk!” The captain chuckled so hard we all ended up joining in. We were still laughing when he continued. “A blue whale can give her baby about fifty-three gallons a day. We couldn’t even fit that much milk in our refrigerators.” The captain took a big sip from his water bottle, took off his red and blue striped woolen cap, scratched his head, and then replaced it. “ “Kyle, did you offer drinks to our guests?”
4.19 The Abyss of WonderLand
I guess it was a strange place to be debating these thoughts. But the sea air seemed to wash away the daze of love I was flying in, to bring clarity, I hoped. But was I being silly to worry about something impinging from Timothy’s past? It was true that Timothy hadn’t reacted to Terry or Bob in a jealous manner, but more as . . . well, a prince of a realm, mandating that others keep their distance. Timothy was rich, handsome, and eternally young. I supposed it was natural that he’d get uppity sometimes. Perhaps that would be my job one day, to remind him that there was no longer any social status among humans. And being truthful, it was a lie not to see the echelons of social status even in today’s world. It was all around us, like renting a private yacht trip which most people could never afford. Or doing those special tours at the zoo and Sea World that others were not able to save up enough money to spend so freely. As the yacht slipped through the water, sliding waves to the side, splashing and weaving through the boats of others perched, or was that anchored, I nodded from my soul searching. Timothy hadn’t reacted to Terry or Bob in a jealous manner, but more as . . . well, a prince of a realm, mandating that others keep their distance. Timothy was rich, handsome, and eternally young. I supposed it was natural that he’d get uppity sometimes. I guessed that would be my job, to remind him that there was no longer any social status among humans. Except, I reminded myself, Timothy wasn’t human. And, it was a lie not to see the echelons of social status. It was all around us, like this private yacht trip which most people could never afford. But musing on such worries and thoughts isn’t all it’s stacked up to be, not when it pulls you out of joy, and joy is where I should be on this beautiful day with the man I loved. Besides, we were probably only minutes from seeing something exciting. I released the apprehensions that kept nibbling at my thoughts and tuned to glance at the captain who was describing the various kinds of whales we were going to see that day.
4.18 The Abyss of WonderLand
“But you lived in history. You saw what we can only read about. Knights on horses, famous people, the beginnings of literature, or at least . . .” I’d said. Andrew had shaken his head and made a rather rude verbal expletive (or at least I think that’s what it was. Whatever language it was in, the expression didn’t translate, but his reaction was spread across his face, showing an emphatic distaste and denial.) “You are very innocent, Penelope. It was never the pretty picture you are envisioning. No one had an education then. Books were almost non-existent, and the two of us hadn’t had any schooling. Prince Jeffry and I both learned to read in the palace of that tyrant king. It was the only positive thing I remember about that time.” Andrew shook his head again, this time using a wagging motion that reminded me of the bobble head dolls some people placed on the car’s dashboard. “Neither of us regrets the end of those centuries of barbary, Penelope. The here and now suits us much, much better.” He sipped his drink, which was probably the lemon water he preferred. “Don’t probe, though. You have to accept Timothy as he is now, not as he was throughout the ages. He is a good man in this time period. He will treat you with the respect you deserve. You can count on that.” Timothy returned then from wherever he’d taken off to, and our conversation had moved to lighter subjects. But sometimes I thought about what Andrew had revealed. Had Timothy sort of liked being a prince, even more than he was willing to admit? Had it influenced him in ways that he could never recover from? “Your worry frown has returned,” Timothy said nudging me from my contemplations of the tale that Andrew had told me. We were standing on the boat’s, I mean, yacht’s side, and staring out into the breadth of the ocean, which stretched for miles. The motors were sending fumes into the air, the seagulls were scolding, and the waves were a tom-tom on the side of our vessel. I suppose Timothy suddenly took advantage of his ability to read my thoughts. “I am who you see now, Penelope,” he said, apparently picking up on the ugly memory Andrew had shared. “I am not that arrogant prince of long ago. I will never be him again,” he promised. Timothy picked up my hand and started massaging my fingers, as if that would reassure me and erase all my fretful doubts. “I admit that I might dip into over protectiveness at times,” he said with a crooked grin, “but that would only be because I adore you. I will try not to growl at men whose eyes fall on your beauty. I know I cannot keep you in an ivory tower.” That ended the conversation for the moment, but not my worries over the impact of his history and the roles he’d played: commanding an army, ordering the deaths of criminals, beheading wayward soldiers, and prancing about in fine clothes in front of a score of court ladies . . . Timothy had been a movie star, a super hero, and a royal heir. Sure, it was long ago but actually not that different from who he was in the present. The newspapers had called him the most eligible bachelor in San Jose, and I had a feeling that he was as rich as a billionaire CEO. Timothy was still commanding, still throwing his weight around, still like that long ago cocky prince.
4.17 The Abyss of WonderLand
I guess he realized that, and my reminder seemed to suppress some of his dictatorial attitude. (I’ll admit that at times that arrogance worried me. What if Timothy started feeling that I was supposed to keep to my role, whatever that was? What if he suddenly hushed me when I wanted to talk with others or required me to act in a manner he thought suitable? Did his past invade his beliefs about such things?) Andrew had told me that Timothy at one point in his life had been declared a prince of the realm. “He was slated to marry the king’s daughter and had grown cocky and demanding, even conceited,” Andrew had revealed. “It was the only time we ever fought over anything. Timothy, or Prince Jeffry, as he was known then, had responded when I’d complained, that it was the only way to survive the brutality around us. He said that such behavior was required of him. “I feared then that I’d lost my good friend, but shortly after that, Timothy wanted to bolt, I think it had become too much even for his swelling ego. We escaped from the kingdom and fled into another realm, one where we were completely unknown.” Andrew’s eyes looked sad as he told me about it, as if that period in time had scarred him permanently. Had it scarred Timothy as well? “Timothy probably left his betrothed in devastation,” I said, sighing over the thought. A mad streak of jealousy hit me. What had the princess been like? How could he have left her behind? What an immensity of time these two had lived. Centuries of palaces, royalty, wars, barbarous conditions . . . Andrew laughed at my comment about the princess Timothy had jilted. “Not likely, Penelope. The princess was only eight years old and practically fainted every time Prince Jeffry came near her. But, that was the way it was done at that time. The women had no choice in their lives. I would bet that poor child was given to another man, one possibly even older than Prince Jeffy, well, at least the age Jeffry appeared to be. We both stopped aging in appearance before then.” It had been a great insight into one of the many lives the two had lived. I wanted to hear more of these stories, but Andrew assured me that it was better if I didn’t. “Times were different,” he explained. “Bloodier, emptier, and full of drink since there was little joy in life. Disease was prevalent. Poverty abundant. Life was cheap and over too soon.”
4.16 The Abyss of WonderLand
The yacht had a bathroom and a small kitchen which held drinks and snacks. Timothy wanted to know about the safety equipment and made us all put on bright orange life jackets, which Bob named our straight jackets. Timothy was practically growling by then. “Lighten up,” I whispered into his ear while giving him a kiss. Ignoring the mumbling and the kiss, Captain Joe explained that the yacht also held radar, sonar, a depth finder, a VHF radio, and GPS. That (and my whisper) seemed to relax Timothy. Or, maybe it was the kiss? Captain Joe’s chief mate, Kyle, was much younger than the captain, whose gray hair and weathered face made him look to be in his late sixties. Kyle was maybe twenty-five, only slightly older than me, I guessed. He had a nice smile, but was too busy to engage with us. He was scurrying about the vessel, checking on things. He merely waved when introduced and continued working with the rope he was winding in a loop. We pushed off soon after, although none of us actually pushed, but we were told that was boat speech. Terry said another term was “shoving off,” which probably risked a Timothy growl, but my new fiancé only glanced at me, nodded, then looked out to sea. I rewarded him with a squeeze to his hand for being so calm. Timothy had rented the entire yacht. It was possible for twelve passengers to enjoy the cruise, but there would only be the four of us, plus the captain and his first officer. I wondered if the captain resented that, because otherwise he’d have had more people to “brag” to about his yacht, but I suppose it didn’t really matter to the man. He got paid as if we were a big crowd, and for a businessman that was the key thing. Timothy was always generous with everyone he hired, including his employee guards. I was super happy that he treated them so well. Providing the two men with cameras and binoculars went above and beyond, but, in my opinion, Timothy often had a problem with employees who slightly stepped out of their role. According to Timothy, Terry and Bob were supposed to be forever watchful and ready to defend us, not engaging with me or with others in needless conversation. But really, who was going to attack us out in the ocean. Whales and sea lions?