A Practical Guide to Fighting Sea Monsters

Chapter 1: Proper Identification

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The waters sparkled blue, the tips of their bobbing swells twinkling as they reflected sunlight, causing them to shimmer like a liquidated sapphire. Calls of seabirds filled the air as a light blast of a warm, tropical wind danced across the water's surface, flowing across the wavetips until it came into contact with a creaking wooden hull, when it lightly travelled upwards, washed over the deck, lightly rustling the ship's furled sails and gently tickling the beard of a stern-looking sailor, who was busy peering at the ocean from whence it came with a spyglass, intensely focused.

The spyglass lowered, revealing the grizzled, weather-beaten, pockmarked face of a seasoned sailor. The sailor in question, Eli Jameson, scanned the blue waves while wearing a growing scowl. While many seafaring individuals may look at a day such as this as a blessing, with its warm temperature and perfect sailing breeze, the fifty-five year-old, red beard flecked with streaks of white, saw only irritation.

Eli turned and stalked across the ship's deck. He passed several sailors, scrubbing the wooden planks or lugging heavy barrels across the deck, all of which worked around him. Eli had been the captain of the ship, The USS Seacow, for over twenty years, and the colossal whaling vessel was his pride and joy. Those who had met the grizzled sea captain often joked that he saw the vessel as the son he never had. Eli had first sailed into the Hawaiian waters nearly five years before, seeking to hire crew members with a hankering for shanking charismatic marine megafauna, and had quickly become a legend among whalers thanks to his skill and experience. Year after year, Jameson and his loyal crew hauled in a massive catch, the yearly quotas of other prolific whalers in the area looking pale by comparison. His abundant talents for murdering large, harmless mammals were virtually unparalleled. Recently, however, these talents had been going to waste.

A dark-skinned man stood by a glistening row of harpoons, holding one as he polished it lovingly. He looked up as he saw his captain approaching in its reflection. "I take it there has been no turn in our fortune," the man said, spotting the look on Eli's face.

"I just don't understand, Andre," Eli said to his first mate. "We're in peak season, and there's not been a whale to be found! For five days we have been out here, and we've not spotted so much as a single spout. It's unheard of. "

"Well when the blasted beasts do finally show up, it won't be a moment too soon." Andre mimed stabbing at the air with his spear. "It's been far too long since I've had a good kill. I'm getting antsy."

The grizzled captain sighed, and looked out at the green of the Big Island of Hawai'i, sitting on the horizon. "I'm sorry to say, Andre, but if we don't find anything soon, we're going to have to head back to land. Our supplies are low enough as it is."

"C – Captain! Captain!" The cry of surprise from the young man in the crow's nest caused them both to look up. "Whale! There's a whale! Coming right up to our ship, on port side!"

"What? No spout?" Eli and Andre raced to port side, along with several other crew members, more than happy for a chance to alleviate their boredom. The whale was spotted immediately: a big, dark blob, resting immediately underneath the surface of the water. It was about one hundred feet away, and drifting lazily towards the ship.

"Finally, yes!" cried Andre, lovingly grasping his harpoon. "I reaaally want to kill something."

Eli squinted at the oncoming creature. "It's massive. It must be at least seventy feet long. That has to be one of the largest whales I've seen in these waters."