Wood creaked against the calm ripples of the ocean below, no map nor gps, just a paddle and a wish on the wind.

A wish to see them again…

Dead centre, the middle of nowhere, no sounds beside the soft wind and no sign of anything above or below, no chirps of dolphins or blowholes and no squawks of birds.

But waiting there for who I had hoped to meet once more, a shadow deepened the vast ocean below, turning the blues black as the water thinned below the wooden boat. Raising it atop a giant black monster.

A beautiful monster and like thunder their blowhole erupted, echoing into the horizons of nothing.

It was a warm welcome back, an annual connection between the greatest beast the sea had known.

And it’s unlikely carer.