Sailor's Jewel by Celia Lake

Author:Celia Lake
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Celia Lake

TWENTY

SATURDAY AFTER LUNCH

Just after luncheon, Hugh found himself on deck again, looking out toward the ocean behind them, back toward the east. The sun had moved enough to the west that it had begun to cast shadows that way, making it easier to see the dips and flows of the ocean.

There were birds in the air above, swooping and diving, but they were too far away for him to identify them accurately, either by colouration or by sound. They seemed to be making much of something a mile or so off, perhaps fish near the surface. He liked hearing them, the way the cries carried. It reminded him of how full of life the ocean was, even though he couldn’t see most of it.

Hugh continued scanning the horizon line. He had just begun to make out the shape of something, the occasional curve of a fin, above the waves, then a tail as something dove under the surface again. Whales, he was sure of that, but he couldn’t see enough, yet, to be sure of what they were. Not an killer whale. This was bigger, and also decidedly grey.

Hugh was startled when he heard a voice by his shoulder, Professor Ferdinand Merton. “You saw them, then? I don’t suppose there are binoculars to borrow, perhaps? Mine were somehow packed in the trunk that went to the hold for the voyage. Most tedious.” He didn’t seem terribly upset, instead more wistful.

“Oh.” Hugh hadn’t considered that. “I can fetch mine, give me a moment?” At the older man’s nod, he turned, going back to his own cabin and finding the pair of binoculars he kept at the top of his own trunk. By the time he came back, the professor had been joined by his wife, but most of the passengers were engaged in some sort of tournament up closer to the bow.

He held out the binoculars. “Here, sir. Professor.”

“You needn’t be formal, you’re scarcely one of my students. I’m certainly not assigning marks or making you sit exams. Though, if you hang about, I’ll be glad to tell you about what we’re seeing.” He took a good minute to look out at the waves, then he handed the binoculars back. “If you look out there, when you can see tails. That’s a small pod of sperm whales. If there were whalers out here, they’d consider it an exceptional catch.” He waved his hand. “I believe this is not a prime whaling route?”

Hugh shook his head. “It’s rare for us to see whales. More common to the north, especially in around Greenland and Iceland, early in the trip, or near the Canadian and New England coast. Here? It’s chance, and a large ocean. I’d been told, in the past, they didn’t care for the noise of the engines.”

“No, they likely wouldn’t. And intelligent whales - and there are theories they’re intelligent - would surely come to recognise ships as a threat. What was it caught your eye, originally?”

“There was a spout, I think.

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