Prompt-O-Rama

Oh! Moby Moby (Prompt: Early)

Don't call me Ishmael, for the author will be sued, or if Moby-Dick is on public domain, ostracised for trying to piggyback on the classic to fulfill his weakened weekend writing pledge. Call me Lameish and we are good. 

And this is a story that no  one knows, nor one that anyone will acknowledge. And I leave it to you to believe in it or not. 

When Roald Amundsen was done conquering the South Pole in his audacious expedition aboard The Fram in 1911, his heart was set on pioneering something else. The North was apparently taken and so he wasn't sure if he should still try the drift from above the Bering strait. While he waited to consult his mentor, Nansen and we were somewhere close to the up and coming Panama canal, we had few weeks at our disposal. One evening, I suggested we try to find Moby and if we could capture it, Amundsen would have another first after the conquest of the Northwestern Passage and the South Pole. And, he would end up slaying the demon that consigned many a sailor to Davy Jones' locker.

Amundsen was all for it. We sent a telegram to Norway, stating that The Fram needed maintenance as it was infested with barnacles. We then set off on a schooner to see if we could get Moby. 

Amundsen being Amundsen, he read all of Moby's exploits and also as to how its human adversaries failed. In the end, he devised a plan. 

"Lameish," he said, "We can't simply harpoon Moby as we harpoon other whales. He is smart and plans his assault. He usually sets off a massive whirlpool, the whalers get caught in them and when the ship is at its weakest against the spiraling current, he strikes with all his ferocity and the ship is reduced to flotsam in no time. We will do this differently. We stalk Moby and let him set off a whirlpool. We flank the whirlpool, go round and round till he wonders why no one has arrived at bull's-eye and decides to take a peek. When he does, Lameish, we strike. For, when he emerges from the Vortex, he is likely to weaken the spiral and we can advance a little, strike and retreat. The Vortex that would've stabilised, is likely to suck him in. He will have to choose among the harpoon, the whirlpool and us, and by the time he makes a choice, either the whirlpool or the spear would've done its job. We can watch from a distance. "

I was amazed and we put the plan into action. And like every other adversary of Moby, we were wrong. We flanked the whirlpool, we made him peep and it all went well until that moment. In my eagerness to get better of the monster, I let the harpoon fly, but tad too early and a little too high. It went Moby-wards like a javelin and tickled Moby before plunging into the ocean. I don't know if it was Moby laughing uncontrollably or if he was simply struggling to scratch the sensation off himself - he just stood up and swiveled around like a cucumber on a potter's wheel. He lunged before disappearing and set off a tide that carried us all the way back to the shore. That was the last we saw of him.

In case Moby's dead, I would like to place on record that Amundsen deserves credit for it as the captain and I, as the harpooner. Lameish it is, by the way.