Saturday, February 21, 2015

Our Adopted Gracie

This was written as assignment in a writers workshop. I was to write 700 words on adopting a pet; fiction or non-fiction. I chose to extract snippets of real life and weave them into a fictional story.  "Mark" and I are real people and we did live in Oregon in the late 60's .  I  get this sort of "Free Willie" feeling about it and don't like what can be perceived as a melodramatic "sweet sensitivity" feel to it, but writing is a learning process, so here it is_


Our Adopted Gracie
As a child I had more types of pets than most;  parakeet, canaries, hamsters, a spider monkey, and, of course, dogs and cats.  We also had fish, but those experiences were not pleasant. The goldfish won at carnival bingo  always went “belly-up” within a week, and our try at an aquarium started with guppies ; dwindled to one angelfish who savored a diet of guppies; and came to an untimely end to when “ick” disease struck, ending all life in the tank , which My Mother promptly turned into a terrarium.

There is, however, one marine experience that sticks in my memory.  Exceptionally so. As young Peace Corps volunteers stationed on the Oregon coast,  my pal Mark and I would often hitch a ride on area fishing boats as weekend pastime.  It was the “Hippy” 60’s” and Mark had one of those Tibetan prayer bowls which “sang” a clear and piercing  tone when their edge was rubbed with a wooden dowel. He would bring it along when we sailed, playing it as a diversion. 

We began to notice that  California Gray whales would come nearby whenever he stroked the bowl.  We deduced the bowl’s sounds were similar to their own “sounding.”  One female became recognizable because she had a calf . We saw these two often enough we started calling the calf “Gracie.   “Mom” would scrape her back swimming under the boat keel to remove barnacles.  Scary as it could tip the boat over, but she was never aggressive enough to really cause harm. 

Mark and I actually looked forward to seeing Gracie as the two would come to the boat every time Mark played his bowl.  We looked upon the two as our adopted whale “pets.”  One day when we were out, Gracie came by the boat . She was alone.  We guessed that Mom had a unpleasant experience with  Orcas, as she would never leave her calf unless something catastrophic occurred.  We were pleased to see Gracie several more times. As a solo calf she was very susceptible to predation . But she returned whenever the bowl “called” to her. We looked forward to our weekend “visits”

Then, our duty tour was over and we had to leave Gracie for our own futures.  I often wondered if she survived. 30 years later, Mark was living in Northern California and, prior to a trip to see him, I suggested that we revisit our old Oregonian stomping grounds.  He agreed. We had a little Miata sports car zipping up the Oregon coast when we came to Newport, the town where the fishing boats we used to hitch rides on were docked. “Should we try to go out again?”  We were both enthusiastic  in our affirmation.  Mark had actually thought about this in advance and surprised me , bringing along his Tibetan bowl as a nod to nostalgia.  We were successful in cajoling a boat captain into letting us ride along. About 5 miles out , Mark took out his bowl and started sounding.  In about a half hour we saw a pod of California Gray’s breaching about a quarter mile away. They showed no interest in us.  These whales commonly migrate from Alaska down to San Diego and they are pretty goal-oriented, so we expected they were on their own mission. 

Suddenly,  next to the boat there was a solitary Gray.  She kept pace with us much like a porpoise in a playful jaunt.  We were ecstatic.  This whale was obviously enjoying our company. Could it possibly be?...  We knew in our hearts it could simply be one of the cadre of whales that do not migrate, but stay in the area year around.  They are small in number as the ecology won’t support more.  But we also knew that Gracie could have been one of those that remained and remembered our call, “coming home”, so to speak , to visit friends from her childhood.  We chose that as truth. This was our now adult Gracie. When the boat docked , two very enthralled men stepped off with a memory of an old friend that had come back to say hello. Gracie remembered us, I know it.

No comments:

Post a Comment