‘A peculiar group of whales has haunted the Massachusetts coastline since its abrupt appearance in 2018, forgoing any sort of migratory behavior in favor of a specific patch of water, roughly five miles in diameter. This is not what makes the whales peculiar. The pod is peculiar physically in such a way that the term ‘whale’ only loosely describes the things floating in the Atlantic Ocean. They are gray and balloon-like. They have small, black eyes and are never seen moving their fins (which stick out rigidly from their sides) or their mouths (which gape open to form perfect circles). They bob along the surface like bath toys and spin lifelessly whenever water blows from their spouts. The term ‘whale’ is used in this entry only because federal law requires that all publications refer to these ‘whales’ as such.
The federal government has created a program called ‘Whale Watch’ to surveil these creatures. ‘Whale Watch’ is free and, when interest is low, it’s also sometimes mandatory. Like a jury summons, an invitation to ‘Whale Watch’ is easier to answer than ignore. Selected participants are boated to a retrofitted oil rig called ‘Whale Watch Island,’ where they spend 1-2 days eating stales sandwiches and watching out for any behaviors that have not already been listed as ‘innocuous.’ A second list of ‘not innocuous’ behaviors has been supplied in response to a request made through the Freedom of Information Act, but so much of the list has been censored that the only new knowledge gleaned is that there is enough content to fill four pages.’
Hector and I are alone on the ferry out to ‘Whale Watch Island,’ which I find reassuring because I assume it means there’s a cohort there already. Some people return to ‘Whale Watch’ over and over. They become veterans of the process, driven to understand the mystery themselves or perpetually chosen by whatever lottery system nominates participants in the off-season. I’d rather be stuck with them than with a group of total rookies. It’s sunset when we arrive and I’ve only just got my feet on the ‘island’s’ grated metal deck when three harried-looking men shuffle past me and onto the ferry. It turns for shore without ever cutting its engine.
There is nobody else on ‘Whale Watch’ duty tonight. The tower is empty and the lights are off. A fridge inside is stocked with plastic-wrapped sandwiches. Handwritten directions for baking frozen pizzas in the toaster oven are taped to a chest freezer. There are seven pizzas inside and a half-scooped tub of neapolitan ice cream.
The whales are east of the island and entirely still. I locate the list of innocuous behaviors and see that remaining entirely still on the surface of the water is the topmost item. Below that: spinning, screaming, surrounding ‘Whale Watch Island,’ disappearing underwater entirely for up to five minutes, and seeming to float in mid-air for up to 30 seconds. I expect them to start screaming immediately but they don’t. They just float, there, on the water.
By midnight I’ve learned why it isn’t necessary for the program behind ‘Whale Watch’ to establish rules about sleeping or watching the whales. It’s impossible to want to sleep knowing that the whales sometimes exhibit non-innocuous behaviors and it’s impossible to concentrate on anything else for any amount of time without feeling as though the whales are watching back.
-traveler
