CHAPTER TWENTY -THREE<\/p>\n
Excitement of my discovery was diluted by a sense of dis-<\/p>\n
belief. Everyone since the ancient Greeks has wanted to believe<\/p>\n
water-borne mammals could communicate. Claim after claim had<\/p>\n
proven to be based on an overactive imagination, or even fraud.<\/p>\n
So for now, I chalked up my experience to my hyperactive<\/p>\n
imagination and nothing else. Besides, Peter was right I am deaf.<\/p>\n
How could I hear anything let alone a whale speaking?<\/p>\n
Still and all the impression I got whenever I looked in the eye<\/p>\n
of this new whale was one of intelligence and a haunting belief that<\/p>\n
he was attempting to communicate. I didn\u2019t feel it was a matter of<\/p>\n
him not understanding us, but rather a matter of us not understanding<\/p>\n
him. Often throughout my college career, I had read about experts<\/p>\n
who equated the intelligence of dolphins and whales with that of<\/p>\n
clever dogs and other domestic pets. But there was deep intelligence<\/p>\n
in those eyes, not the mindless innocence of a kitten or puppy.<\/p>\n
I spent all my free time in or near the new tank. I never felt<\/p>\n
the vibrating sensation in my head outside the tank, but when I was<\/p>\n
in the water proper and my head was submerged, I did feel the puls-<\/p>\n
ing vibration like the touching of a tuning fork. Oh, how I wanted to<\/p>\n
believe that in some small part I was truly hearing for the first time,<\/p>\n
but the sensation was not sound. It was vibration.<\/p>\n
Late one night when the park had closed, I again stood on<\/p>\n
the observation platform and stared into the translucent, black eyes<\/p>\n
of the whale. There was that depth, that feeling of soul, of great<\/p>\n
intelligence, of compassion.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat are you?\u201d I signed, \u201csome mythical, magical monster-<\/p>\n
-or just a figment of my imagination? Come on, big guy, speak to<\/p>\n
me.\u201d Seemingly in response the whale suddenly lunged forward,<\/p>\n
sending a great cascade of water sloshing over the platform. The<\/p>\n
rush was so great that I lost my footing and fell bone-jarringly onto<\/p>\n
my butt – my legs extended in front of me over the water. Then time<\/p>\n
all but stopped as I watched the great, sharp-toothed mouth of<\/p>\n
the Orca open and clamp down, albeit though gently, on my feet.<\/p>\n
Knowing the strength of those jaws, I realized it would only be a<\/p>\n
moment before my feet would become a snack for this killer whale.<\/p>\n
My hands braced on the platform I tried to pull back hoping against<\/p>\n
hope that he would simply let go. But, as I pulled the whale simply<\/p>\n
yanked me into the water.<\/p>\n
Being deaf, I don\u2019t know how much noise I made, but my<\/p>\n
mouth was open wide and I was forcing a lot of air out in a panicked<\/p>\n
attempt at communication. Remarkably, as I hit the water, the whale<\/p>\n
released my feet, and I sputtered to the surface, gulping air on top<\/p>\n
of the water I had already swallowed. I spun myself around like a<\/p>\n
top in the water, looking for my assailant, prepared to defend myself<\/p>\n
to the end. How I would ward off a multi-ton attacker I had no idea,<\/p>\n
but I wasn\u2019t going roll over and play mini-meal.<\/p>\n
I spit the water from my mouth, as finally my eyes cleared.<\/p>\n
There, not four feet away, was the Orca, complacently watching me.<\/p>\n
Certain that he was prepared for another attack; I began to gently<\/p>\n
back-paddle to the edge of the tank. But as I moved, he moved.<\/p>\n
Only 20 feet and I would be within arm\u2019s reach of the platform and<\/p>\n
safety. I backed up farther, and would have made my escape save<\/p>\n
for one of the <\/span>dolphins who interceded itself between me and the<\/p>\n platform. Gently but forcefully the dolphin nosed me back toward<\/p>\n the whale.<\/p>\n Unbelievably the dolphin and the whale were working in con-<\/p>\n cert. Never in all my studies had I ever read that dolphins helped<\/p>\n killer whales in their feeding. Great! This was my first major dis-<\/p>\n covery as a biologist, but the knowledge would never be consumed<\/p>\n by my peers rather I would. My scientific discovery and my body<\/p>\n would be digested in a more bizarre manner in the belly of a very<\/p>\n intelligent whale.<\/p>\n I turned to the side and started to swim parallel to the dolphin<\/p>\n at my back and the whale in my face, but another of the dolphins<\/p>\n reared from the water and I was blocked again. Trapped as I was,<\/p>\n the only avenue of escape seemed to be down. I dove quickly<\/p>\n planning to swim beneath the dolphin behind me when I felt deep,<\/p>\n rhythmic vibrations in my inner ear. The buzzing was gentle and<\/p>\n oddly soothed my feelings of fear. This didn\u2019t seem to be the cry<\/p>\n of a blood-hungry whale about to devour his first manwich, his first<\/p>\n femburger.<\/p>\n I surfaced; confused but still very much alive. The whale had<\/p>\n quietly submerged, and as my head rose from the water, so did his.<\/p>\n It was a standoff. Suddenly, my attention was diverted to the other<\/p>\n side of the tank and the welcome sight of Peter\u2019s lopsided grin. He<\/p>\n crudely signed, \u201cAre you okay?\u201d<\/p>\n I turned and looked at my attackers. None were threatening,<\/p>\n but neither were they moving back. I carefully raised my arms from<\/p>\n the water and signed, \u201cI thought I was in danger, but I am now safe,<\/p>\n for the moment. If I look like I am about to become a meal, get<\/p>\n me out of here!\u201d I turned back to the whale, whose eyes seemed to<\/p>\n twinkle in the artificial lights of the marina park. He slowly dropped<\/p>\n his massive head back under the water, and the dolphins did the<\/p>\n same. I waited a moment or two, and then they all popped back to<\/p>\n the surface. They slowly sank again, and again I waited. Again,<\/p>\n they bobbed to the surface in unison. Peter looked at me, question-<\/p>\n ingly now, with a formidable spear gun cradled in his arm–cocked<\/p>\n and ready.<\/p>\n I hand-spoke to him to stay where he was but to keep the<\/p>\n spear gun handy. Inwardly, I was very relieved that he was there. If<\/p>\n you are about to give your life for science, literally as lunch, there\u2019s<\/p>\n always a sense of relief that someone will at least know where you<\/p>\n have disappeared. I turned back to the center of the tank.<\/p>\n The process of the bobbing mammals happened three more<\/p>\n times, and I swear the whale and dolphins were getting frustrated<\/p>\n that I didn\u2019t understand what was going on. Once again, in uni-<\/p>\n son, they dropped below the surface, and again I was alone with<\/p>\n the ripples. I looked to Peter, who was now nervously watching<\/p>\n this odd behavior from the platform, gun at the ready. He shrugged<\/p>\n his shoulders and shook his head. He had no more idea than did I<\/p>\n about what was going on.<\/p>\n Suddenly, I felt a tug at my foot, and before fear or alarm, I<\/p>\n was suddenly drawn beneath the water back to my lead position in<\/p>\n the food chain. I was a bit more prepared this time, and at least my<\/p>\n mouth was closed. The grip was not uncomfortable, but I definitely<\/p>\n was being held under the water. But why? Once again, the rhythmic<\/p>\n vibrations began, and I was soothed. Then the pulsation stopped.<\/p>\n My leg was released, and I popped to the surface like a cork.<\/p>\n With me came my errant new playmates, who watched expec-<\/p>\n tantly. Peter urgently signed from the platform, \u201cWhat\u2019s going on?<\/p>\n Why are they pulling you under the water?\u201d<\/p>\n I returned in sign, \u201cI don\u2019t know what\u2019s happening, but for<\/p>\n some odd reason, they, want me under the water.\u201d I thought for a<\/p>\n moment as I floated in the water–me watching them watching me.<\/p>\n There was a device we had been using called a tonal analyzer and<\/p>\n with the aid of microphones installed around the pool it recorded<\/p>\n and printed all sounds to a paper graph. I signed to Peter to turn on<\/p>\n the machine and begin recording.<\/p>\n When he was ready, I again dropped beneath the surface of<\/p>\n the water. Sure enough, the whale and dolphins did the same. And,<\/p>\n as before, the pulsation came, wrapping their soothing arms around<\/p>\n me. Again, when the vibrations stopped, I surfaced quickly and<\/p>\n signed to Peter for the reading. He disappeared for a moment and<\/p>\n then reappeared to sign that other than standard background chirp-<\/p>\n ing, there was nothing recorded.<\/p>\n The dolphins merrily bobbed their heads. Once again, I<\/p>\n slipped beneath the surface, and again could feel the vibrations.<\/p>\n When they stopped I rose to the surface, and as before, a perplexed<\/p>\n Peter signed that there was no extraordinary sounds. What was<\/p>\n this? What was happening? Had I lost my mind?<\/p>\n The dolphins and whale moved closer, but there was nothing<\/p>\n in their movement that I perceived as threatening. If anything, there<\/p>\n was a sense of bonding. I signed to Peter to throw me a pair of gog-<\/p>\n gles and a snorkel. He was gone but a minute and then lobbed the<\/p>\n gear high in the air. With a splash they landed neatly in front of me.<\/p>\n I pulled the mask on and bit down on the mouthpiece. All secured,<\/p>\n I submerged. The dolphins and whale, satisfied that I was under to<\/p>\n stay and not about to pop up again, also submerged. We floated<\/p>\n there, suspended between two alien worlds. As before, my inner ear<\/p>\n rang with the rhythmic buzzing. It stopped, then started again, and<\/p>\n there was a definite pattern to it.<\/p>\n One of the dolphins separated from the group and swam<\/p>\n close to me. Without thinking I reached out in the water and<\/p>\n touched the side of its head. Then, slowly, the rhythm of the buzz-<\/p>\n ing changed. This process was repeated over and over until it sud-<\/p>\n denly dawned on me that the rhythms were distinct. At the same<\/p>\n time, the dolphin was arching its body, turning into himself. I think<\/p>\n I was finally beginning to connect the dots. Was the vibration I was<\/p>\n feeling the dolphin word for dolphin?<\/p>\n Shocked though I was, I carefully signed the word, \u201cDolphin,\u201d<\/p>\n and then touched it again.<\/p>\n The whale and the other dolphins in chorus repeated the<\/p>\n rhythmic pattern, \u201cDolphin. Dolphin. Dolphin.\u201d<\/p>\n One by one I pointed to the other dolphins and signed over<\/p>\n and over, \u201cDolphin! Dolphin! Dolphin!\u201d<\/p>\n The dolphins in turn twisted their heads back and repeated<\/p>\n the pulsation. They were indentifying themselves as dolphins.<\/p>\n They speak!<\/p>\n They all watched as I first pointed to and then signed for one<\/p>\n thing and then another in the tank. Then the rhythmic buzzing<\/p>\n would translate, and I would be taught the equivalent word in their<\/p>\n language. Language–how quickly I changed from calling it buzzing<\/p>\n and vibration in my inner ear to language. Over the next hour or<\/p>\n so, through trial and error, they taught me the simple words for the<\/p>\n water and life itself. They taught me the word \u201cdryside\u201d\u2014everything<\/p>\n above the water that they called \u201clife.\u201d They taught of the \u201cfeath-<\/p>\n ered-furies,\u201d the seagulls that fly on the winds of the dryside.<\/p>\n And, oh yes, they don\u2019t call us man or human beings. They call us<\/p>\n the \u201csandwalker,\u201d it that walks on two fins on the dryside.<\/p>\n They taught me so much in a short time, but it was only a<\/p>\n single grain of sand on the most expansive of beaches. Whales<\/p>\n and dolphins have been on this earth longer than man, and, I began<\/p>\n to understand that they have a recorded history. A history that has<\/p>\n been passed on from generation to generation since the beginning<\/p>\n of time. They call this history the Song of the Sea, a song that<\/p>\n sandwalker does not sing. Oh, that man was not such a slave to<\/p>\n labor-saving devices! In our cleverness, we forget to intimately re-<\/p>\n member how we got here. The mammals of the sea had been trying<\/p>\n to communicate with us for hundreds of thousands of years. We just<\/p>\n didn\u2019t know how to listen.<\/p>\n I drug myself up onto the platform and excitedly signed to<\/p>\n Peter, \u201cDid you get all of that?\u201d<\/p>\n He looked at me, perplexed, his face screwed up. \u201cGet all<\/p>\n of what?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cThe last two hours, my conversations, my first day in<\/p>\n school,\u201d My fingers danced in the air as I laughed and danced<\/p>\n about. \u201cMy conversations with–excuse me–the sandwalker\u2019s first<\/p>\n conversation with his intellectually superior and older cousins, the<\/p>\n whale and dolphin.\u201d<\/p>\n Peter stared at me intently, concern overriding his normal<\/p>\n sarcastic wit. \u201cAre you okay? Come here and take a look at<\/p>\n the readouts.\u201d<\/p>\n I grabbed a towel and walked around the tank to the analyzer.<\/p>\n I must have looked quite the site, sopping wet in my clothes and<\/p>\n a snorkel and goggles strapped to my head. I examined the tapes<\/p>\n expecting to see a wide, pulsing graph showing a variety of modula-<\/p>\n tion. Instead, I found only modest and subtle rises and falls in the<\/p>\n graphs. Nothing out of the ordinary. \u201cThis can\u2019t be right,\u201d I signed.<\/p>\n Impatiently, I fussed with the machine, but still the analyzer showed<\/p>\n that neither the whale nor the dolphins had made any recordable<\/p>\n sound at all.<\/p>\n Peter gently spun me around, \u201cLook, Doc, the tape even<\/p>\n shows the minor fluctuations of your motions in the water as you<\/p>\n were making all those bizarre signings. I watched you signing un-<\/p>\n der the water . . . the dry side, and sand walker and feathered fury?<\/p>\n What did that all that mean?\u201d<\/p>\n I was still staring intently at the ribbons of graph paper. \u201cNone<\/p>\n of their conversations show? Nothing?\u201d<\/p>\n He grabbed me firmly by the shoulders and turned me until we<\/p>\n were face to face. He slowly mouth spoke, \u201cSharon, read my lips.<\/p>\n There was nothing to record. You were underwater, signing to the<\/p>\n whale and the dolphins. They didn\u2019t respond. They floated be-<\/p>\n neath the water like inflatable pool toys and watched you sign ob-<\/p>\n scure word combinations like dry, side, fury, feathered, waters, and<\/p>\n life. I swear to you, they didn\u2019t chirp or squeak anything they hav-<\/p>\n en\u2019t always done in their delightfully stupid animal way. You must<\/p>\n have bumped your head and have a minor concussion or some-<\/p>\n thing. Come on, let me drive you to the emergency room. Have<\/p>\n someone take a look at you.\u201d<\/p>\n I shrugged off his conciliatory hands on my shoulders. \u201cI<\/p>\n don\u2019t need the hospital. I know what I heard,\u201d I declared.<\/p>\n He turned his head from side to side. \u201cListen to yourself,\u201d he<\/p>\n said patiently. \u201cYou are deaf, stone-deaf since birth. You wouldn\u2019t<\/p>\n know the difference between the sound of a splash in the water and<\/p>\n the wailing of a siren.\u201d<\/p>\n Tears welled from my eyes in frustration. I knew what I had<\/p>\n felt in the water. I knew what I had heard deep within my inner ear.<\/p>\n True, maybe it was not sound or what sound should possibly be<\/p>\n like, but I heard it! I felt it! They spoke with me. Shaken to my<\/p>\n very core, I meekly allowed Peter to take me to a Doc in the Box<\/p>\n not far from the park. Numb, I barely remember the doctor telling<\/p>\n me that I had suffered some form of traumatic shock and was<\/p>\n hallucinating.<\/p>\n I was not crazy. I had suffered no trauma other than the<\/p>\n powerful shock of new-found knowledge and my amazing discov-<\/p>\n ery. They did speak! The dolphins and the whale all spoke! It<\/p>\n had to be real.<\/p>\n Peter took me back to the duplex and mother-henned me<\/p>\n with a cup of hot coffee. Again, I acquiesced to his demands. I<\/p>\n slipped into a robe, and sat quietly at the kitchen table sipping from<\/p>\n the steaming cup while he silently stared at me. Satisfied that I<\/p>\n was all right, he left. I watched as he pulled out of the driveway in<\/p>\n his pick-up, then I put the cup in the sink. I paced about the house<\/p>\n frustrated by what I thought I had experienced. I had to know. Still<\/p>\n dressed in my robe, I walked the few blocks back to the marina and<\/p>\n the whale.<\/p>\n The night security guards were amused at my dress, but be-<\/p>\n cause I had often come in the middle of the night to make observa-<\/p>\n tions, they didn\u2019t question my entry. I rushed back to the tank, robe<\/p>\n flapping about my legs, my still-bare feet stinging as they slapped<\/p>\n the walkways in hurried determination.<\/p>\n All my doubts were smoothed away when the whale reared his<\/p>\n mighty head above the edge of the tank, and, once again, I looked<\/p>\n into his great eye. Anyone who looks into the eye of a whale or a<\/p>\n dolphin has to see the depth of soul and intelligence that is there.<\/p>\n Without thought, I leaped, robe and all, back into the tank. I signed,<\/p>\n \u201cDolphin . . . dolphin,\u201d and ducked my head beneath the water.<\/p>\n But all was still. I bobbed from the water, dragging deep<\/p>\n mouthfuls of night air into my tortured lungs. I signed, \u201cWhale . . .<\/p>\n whale.\u201d Once again, I plunged my head beneath the water. I waited<\/p>\n and waited, but the whale sat motionless, staring with those great,<\/p>\n unblinking eyes. And the water was silent.<\/p>\n Crap! It was a dream.<\/p>\n Never have I felt so let down. Never have I felt so defeated!<\/p>\n I stood shoulder-deep in the water with tears mixing and mingling<\/p>\n with the dripping saltwater from my hair. I don\u2019t know how long I<\/p>\n was in the water but eventually strong hands reached down and<\/p>\n grabbed me under my arms and lifted me onto the training platform.<\/p>\n I collapsed, sobbing at the edge of the pool. There was Peter, again<\/p>\n kneeling to console me, and also there, the hallucination of all hal-<\/p>\n lucinations, Dr. Lambert.<\/p>\n \u201cShar-oon,\u201d he mouth-spoke, \u201cDon\u2019t think this little episode<\/p>\n will get you out of work tomorrow. Hee, hee! Though I kind of like<\/p>\n the sound of it: Deaf Girl Listens to Whale Speak. It\u2019s got a kind<\/p>\n of ring to it. Twofin, take her home and dry her off before she com-<\/p>\n pounds this insanity with pneumonia.\u201d With that, he waddled into<\/p>\n the night, back to whatever rock he slept under.<\/p>\n \u201cCome on,\u201d lip-spoke Peter, as he helped me to my feet, \u201cyou<\/p>\n just need some rest.\u201d As I shuffled away from the tanks, I looked<\/p>\n back, and there were four heads lifted above the concrete edge,<\/p>\n watching silently.<\/p>\n Like an invalid, I was led out of the marina and into the pas-<\/p>\n senger seat of Peter\u2019s truck, which was still damp from my last ride<\/p>\n and soon to be wetter still from my sopping robe. \u201cIf I had known<\/p>\n that I was going to be moving mermaids,\u201d he signed, smiling broad-<\/p>\n ly, \u201cI would have gotten plastic seat covers. I feel like I\u2019m driving a<\/p>\n goldfish bowl.\u201d<\/p>\n I shook my head and laughed. How foolish I was. It was all<\/p>\n just a bump on the head, an odd dream caused by a lonely whale<\/p>\n that simply wanted to play with my foot.<\/p>\n I slept that night wrapped in odd dreams of whales and dol-<\/p>\n phins writing me letters and then denying they had written them.<\/p>\n I woke later, confused, not knowing if I had dreamed it all or only<\/p>\n part. The sight of my dripping robe and the pool of water on the<\/p>\n carpet forced me, in a quantum leap, back to reality. I threw the<\/p>\n quilt back over my head and groaned. Lambert was there! I would<\/p>\n never live it down. By now, there would be a reader board out front,<\/p>\n entreating people to buy tickets to view the newest exhibit . . . me!<\/p>\n Hours later, I staggered from bed and slurped the now-cold<\/p>\n coffee Peter had made the night before. I took an ice-cold shower,<\/p>\n got dressed, and was just walking out of the house when Peter\u2019s<\/p>\n pick-up squealed into my driveway. He charged up the walkway<\/p>\n and blasted into the house. Steeled for the ribbing to come, I was<\/p>\n shocked when he signed, \u201cGet dressed! There is an emergency up<\/p>\n the coast. Lambert has loaned us to help.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWhat happened?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cA massive pod of Orcas are beaching themselves,\u201d Peter<\/p>\n replied. \u201cLambert took a helicopter. Thinks he might snag a<\/p>\n free whale.\u201d<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" CHAPTER TWENTY -THREE Excitement of my discovery was diluted by a sense of dis- belief. Everyone since the ancient Greeks has wanted to believe water-borne mammals could communicate. Claim after claim had proven to be based on an overactive imagination, or even fraud. So for now, I chalked up my experience to my hyperactive imagination […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":3,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_genesis_hide_title":false,"_genesis_hide_breadcrumbs":false,"_genesis_hide_singular_image":false,"_genesis_hide_footer_widgets":false,"_genesis_custom_body_class":"","_genesis_custom_post_class":"","_genesis_layout":"","footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[],"class_list":{"0":"post-1374","1":"post","2":"type-post","3":"status-publish","4":"format-standard","6":"category-uncategorized","7":"entry"},"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/stephencosgrove.com\/bookstore\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1374","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/stephencosgrove.com\/bookstore\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/stephencosgrove.com\/bookstore\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/stephencosgrove.com\/bookstore\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/3"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/stephencosgrove.com\/bookstore\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=1374"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/stephencosgrove.com\/bookstore\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1374\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":1375,"href":"https:\/\/stephencosgrove.com\/bookstore\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1374\/revisions\/1375"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/stephencosgrove.com\/bookstore\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=1374"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/stephencosgrove.com\/bookstore\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=1374"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/stephencosgrove.com\/bookstore\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=1374"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}