The Orca That Came To Dinner
schrödinger
your hand against the door
there’s no talking: my shoes
go sit over by the cat
its tail twitching but
the wharf awaits — the promise
of a dorsal stitching blue
let it be, say the pairs of eyes
scratches marr my ankles
red blooms into socks
ready bag placed in the boot
iphone tethered to my truck
and I’m off
strap settles my nape
hands clench around camera
time gets stretched and folded
— finally water errupts
into black and white
before dissolving into froth
a tribal beat erases my life
scanning his whereabouts
encases me in now
tethers me to everything
his promise awaits when I rise
holding me close until dark
in-between the flutter of eyes
I am/not alive
I am a cat
©️Trish Shields
One Monday, during the last week of July, there came a visitor into our harbour. He was from Alaska; although many names have been bandied about, T073B, became Big Boy to me. He was born in 1991 and so is 27 years old. He very quietly made his way into the Comox Harbour at a time when all I had on my mind was getting shots of an eagle in flight. I stood about half way on the wharf and wondered what everyone was pointing at to the far right of the harbour. I thought, 'this much fuss over seals?' I spied four kids on paddle boards, heading out to either Little Mexico or perhaps just Goose Spit. I thought it was a nice shot but as I began focusing my lens, our visitor, Big Boy quietly came into view between the totally oblivious paddle boarders and the wharf. I couldn't believe my eyes as my fingers kept clicking away on the camera. It was an orca. An O R C A, my brain screamed. Yes, I've been whale-watching and have seen orcas hunting grey whales and tearing into seals. But that was in a boat or a zodiac, while hitting each wave and trying like mad to focus on exactly where the whales were.
Have I mentioned that I'm ADHD? Well, it'a good thing to be most of the time, but not when there are whales or dolphins, giraffe, a Spotted Towhee caught washing its face in a leaf-full of snow or...ELEPHANTS....that was a squirrel. Three years previous I'd seen a mother humpback slowly push into the harbour with her calf. Although we didn't see much more than her fin and back break the surface, it WAS exhilarating nonetheless. My fingers were all wobbly while my brain kept trying to remain calm and in control. Fat chance! So, when our Transient guest came into view, I was rightly afraid that my first shots might be less than stellar. After all, I do NOT have go-go gadget eyes. And as much as I maligned the foolish kayakers, paddle boarders, rowboats or other waterborne personnel that got too damned close to our visitor I would have loved to have been on one of the pleasure crafts moored in the harbour...within close proximity to Big Boy. I would probably be eye-toothless right now had I been given the chance to be in one of those boats.
Big Boy stayed for 10-days, and part of those days fell on my birthday. It is a gift I cherish. Prior to coming into contact with J32, otherwise known as Rhapsody, I looked at orcas with disdain. 'Wolves of the sea,' I thought. 'They are killer of whales, and some of them babies', I grimaced. After spending about 3 hours with Rhapsody on the beach at Seal Bay I came to an understanding - we are what we are, warts and all; there is beauty in that.Sometimes we are given a gift and it behooves us to appreciate it and respect it for the gift it is.
For a very short while we had a resident transient guest from Alaska. He was lured out of the harbour for his own safety 200 meters is the distance you are allowed close to marine life. Not 200ft and certainly not 50'.
