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‘Can’t do any harm, right?’ I say, picking up on Gethin’s enthusiasm.
‘With this dunderheid?’ Aiden says scornfully. He throws his keys in the air and catches them. Then he shrugs and signals for us to follow him down the road.
The boat’s already on the trailer hooked up to the pick-up truck. We squeeze into the passenger seats beside Aiden and he hurtles onto the narrow road out of Durness. Changes gear to take a corner, then ramps it up again. Glances across at Gethin clinging onto the seat front.
‘Don’t be worrying, me da was a stock car racer, you know?’ He grins, leaning forward over the steering wheel.
‘As in that’s meant to make me feel better?’ Gethin forces a nervous smile.
‘He taught me on the track when I was about eleven. I’ve driven all sorts.’ Aiden swings into a passing place to the honk of the car coming towards us.
He so doesn’t look old enough to drive. Maybe I’m not the only illegal on the roads up here!
We’re there in a few minutes and Aiden rattles up alongside the beach. The channel is about half a mile wide. Edged with sandy dunes, curving round to the rising hills so you can’t see the open sea.
‘Look!’ Gethin points as we jump out of the pick-up.
There on the water’s edge: two long sleek shapes draped in wet sheets. Couple of guys in Hi-Viz jackets.
We stop for a moment, taking it in.
‘Fucking Hell, Those Are Whales!’
We follow Aiden as he rushes towards them. ‘Iain! Iain!’ he hollers as we get close.
Iain comes to meet us. ‘Keep the noise down, guys. The whales are distressed enough.’
‘Aye, sorry.’ Aiden shuffles his feet. ‘I’ve brought the boat, and, well, these hangers-on…?’
Iain looks us up and down. ‘You can help us keep these two comfortable while Aiden and I get the boat going. There are about twenty more in the Sound, can you see?’ He points to where the water separates around a sand bank about fifty metres from the shore. Then I see the black fins bobbing through the surface.
‘Wow!’
‘There might be more on their way,’ Iain says. ‘They may have been chasing prey, or something frightened them into the Kyle. Either way they need to be turned around before low tide, or they’ll all perish.’
‘Will we get the boat down, then?’ Aiden says, his leg jigging impatience.
‘Aye, and you two can help Stewart here with these whales. There’s the navy bomb disposal men and a marine rescue team on their way. But we haven’t much time so we’ll do what we can the now.’
Stewart’s a hefty geezer, busting out of his padded Hi-Viz. Grey eyes too small for his big round face. He shows us how they’re keeping a channel around the whales and filling it with water. Sits me near the whale’s head and tells me how to dig round it with my hands. Instructs Gethin to fill a watering can from the sea to pour into the channels and onto the sheets to keep them wet.
Gethin stares at the whales like he’s paralysed.
‘Go on, then!’ Stewart hands Gethin the can. ‘Let’s get on with it.’
Gethin runs to the sea while I scoop like crazy around the whale’s sleek black head. Its mouth is fixed in like a resigned grin and its eye stares blank. Huge dark pupil in a pale grey iris. Massive brain in that frigging enormous head. The size of its suffering – I can hardly bear to look. Concentrate on my shovelling as Gethin comes to fill the channel.
Stewart directs Gethin to pour some water over the whale’s head and the whale pulls its eyelids shut for a second. I’m thankful as fuck to see proof that it still lives. But it goes through me again. Unbearable.
‘What are their chances?’ Gethin asks.
Stewart scoops sand from the side of the other whale. ‘Statistically not high. They die of dehydration, or their bodies collapse under their own weight. Sometimes they drown if they can’t move and the tide comes in and covers their blow holes.’
‘But there is like a chance?’ Gethin’s voice is shaky.
‘I’m just the ferryman,’ Stewart sounds unsure. ‘We’ll do what we can. The team will bring floatation devices. It’s no’ easy though.’
Gethin heads back to re-fill his can and Stewart and I carry on scooping. I focus in on the rhythmic splat of wet sand as we work. Notice a faint high-pitched whistle and try not to think what the heck that might be.
