Puqllay the Playful Whale Remembers

The Spring when Anya saw the young whale entangled in fishing gear became part of the sea's legends.

Today she told the story again to the new passengers on the ship. Her voice rose and fell like a singer, and the listeners let go of the present moment.

They suspended their usual reality and entered a world where the past’s echoes could be heard, seen, and felt.

"It is not a myth." The listeners' eyes widened.

"It is all true. I was there. It is real."

This is the story. Later it was repeated, and spread across the travels, oceans, and lands, wherever the listeners went.

The snout of a curious young humpback whale poked out of the ocean next to the hull of the mystical sailing vessel, Destiny’s Dreams.

Anya, the Storyteller and Keeper of Ancient Wisdom on the ship, saw one round eye move in the eye socket, and scan the ship with a gaze that came to rest on her face.

She shook the long dark hair away from her eyes and leaned over the wooden railing.

“Do I know you?” Her voice had a musical lightness.

The ocean parted nearby, spray flew through the air, and a giant shape exploded out of the sea, shooting upward, then landing with a boom on the ocean and disappearing again beneath the waves.

“Hello, Mama Whale. I see you hopped out of the water to look around. Your baby and I are having a chat.”

The echoes of Anya’s ancestors, who communicated with animals, regarding them as brothers and sisters, flowed through Anya. Most people had forgotten the old skills, except for Anya the animal empath.

The crew and passengers on the mystical sailing vessel loved listening to her tales while they sat bathed in the glow of the etched glass of her Blue Lantern.

Something beyond explanation happened when she lit the lantern and began to speak in her soft voice that sang like wind over the seas. Time and mind rearranged and the past came alive in her stories.

“How does she do that?” While the wooden vessel creaked under the huge, white, canvas sails, those on board whispered to each other.

“What is her story? Where is she from?”

“Are these stories myths or reality?”

“They are so inspiring.”

“Yes, surely they hold truths even if they are fiction.”

“Have you seen how she communicates with animals?”

“She must be one of those animal empaths. I heard of such things.”

Now Anya spoke out loud to the whale, knowing her tone would communicate even if the words would not.

“I’m going to call you “Puqllay” which means playful, in the ancient Quechua language of my ancestors in Peru.

Puqllay leaned closer to the ship, the head turned, and the eye was so close Anya could see the depths, the shadows, and lights in it.

Anya reached over and ran her hand over the wet, slippery top of Puqllay’s head. A giant dark shape beneath the water hovered near Puqllay. Then it emerged next to him.

“Hello my friend.”

The fearless, friendly mama whale was curious like her baby. Together they floated, their eyes rolling, heads twisting, giant mouths slightly apart.

Farther away from the ship Anya saw shapes surfacing and breeching out of the water. The other whales in the migration group were also heading north after spending winter in the warm waters farther to the south, where they bred and birthed their whale calves.

“I believe I do know you from somewhere in the past.” Anya’s voice blended with the sloshing of the waves against the wooden vessel and the wind rustling the sails.

“We are heading north too.”

“Did you enjoy your time in the tropical waters off the coast?” Anya referred to the area that would someday be called the Baha Peninsula.

The three friends enjoyed the quiet day and gentle seas. As the sun drifted across the azure sky they relaxed and sighed with the tranquility of the quiet seas that day.

Eventually Puqllay and Mama Whale floated away and disappeared beneath the surface.

They swooped and swirled there with the other whales. Whale voices under the water made sounds only whales understood. Their songs told the story of the meeting with the friendly being on the object floating on the surface of the water.

Time passed. The sailing vessel stopped at ports along the way. The whales made amigration up to the north in the summer for the cooler waters, and down to the southern, tropical, warm waters in the following winter.

Anya and Pugllay did not know they would meet again. When it happened, the circumstances were surprising.

Mama Whale was swimming north again, and Puqllay the playful, curious whale was one year old still swam near her. He was still far from a grown whale and the older, wiser whales were teaching Puqllay the ways of their group, how to survive in the sea, how to migrate north and south each year together.

They shared family bonds. The mama’s lifted their newborn baby whales to the ocean surface to be sure they breathed, because whales are mammals who breathe air, not like fish who can breathe under the sea.

The older, wise whales, led and taught the young whales what to do.

One day when the coast was a distant blur, a fishing vessel dragged its nets through the sea from a long line. The old line began to fray and it broke, letting go of the fishing net.

The net drifted and twisted, sinking in the water.

Puqllay and Mama Whale were swimming with the others on their Spring migration to the northern, cooler waters for the summer.

Something in the water touched Puqllay’s right fin. It tightened. Then it slipped around his bottom jaw too. Puqllay darted away but it only became tighter. Puqllay’s jaw hurt. Something dug into it.

Mama Whale surged next to Puqllay, nudging, encouraging helplessly.

They fought the thing but it wrapped around one of Puqllay’s tail flukes too.

Exhaustion overcame them. Puqllay became weak and hungry, unable to eat with the thing wrapped around Puqllay’s lower jaw.

On the horizon, Mama Whale saw a familiar sight. The mystical object floating on top of the water with the cloudlike sails above it echoed in her memory.

Images of the friendly being, Anya, emerged in Mama Whale’s mind.

The sailing vessel known as Destiny’s Dreams came closer and Mama Whale nudged Puqllay, the playful whale, toward it.

Anya’s eyes swept the ocean and she planned her next storytelling session for the crew and passengers. Days and weeks at sea could become tiresome and her stories entertained everyone and left them inspired.

“Another pod of migrating whales. Over there.” One of the passengers pointed and spoke.

Anya rose and stood on the bench at the railing, holding onto the heavy rope ladder that led like steps for the sailors to the adjust the sails on the main mast.

Two dark humps seemed to be coming closer, deliberately.

Then Anya saw it. The young whale with a fishing net tangled in its jaw, around one of its fins, and twisted around a tail fluke.

The huge Mama Whale was nudging and pushing the smaller whale.

"Do you remember?" The communication was a sensation and images that came to Anya from the two whales.

Anya gasped.

" I know you!"

“Miquel,” she called. “Quick. Bring me the cutting tools for the lines.”

Minutes later the young whale and the entangled net were next to the wooden hull of the Destiny’s Dreams.

Mama Whale’s shape, as long as the length of the ship, floated next to the year old youngster.

Anya saw the nearest eye of the young whale roll and pause at her face.

“You know me.” She spoke out loud.

“It’s you, Puqllay, my playful whale. Let’s fix this.” Anya’s heart raced. The young whale looked weak and needed food soon in order to survive.

She reached over the side of the ship railing with the sharp utensil and carefully cut away the net from the whale’s mouth. Loosened this way, the rest of the net lines fell away.

Puqllay’s mouth opened and closed. The eye met Anya’s eye. Something universal passed between them.

The young whale emitted a loud sound like a sigh and a spray of warm water fell over Anya from it.

Then Mama Whale nudged her year old baby, and the two shapes sank, heading to deeper water where Puqllay could take in nourishment.