After my conversation with Eldey, I needed to take some time to think. I hadn’t checked in with Astuto today, but I knew he could handle himself. I’d talk to him tomorrow. My brain couldn’t take anymore deep thinking, so I decided to check in quickly with Stella before finding a place to rest for the night. Day 3 was not my day to make the 75-mile swim. I still had 37 days left and was content to wait upon Stella’s massive back to transport me across the Pacific Ocean. Of course, I didn’t let her know that when talking to her. She was nothing but positive and excited to be overcoming her fears about the Open Ocean. I thought it was okay to let her believe that I was doing the same. Stella had only seen a few passing fish, a seagull which perched on her back for awhile removing some crabs and parasites from her blubbery sides, and a ship sailing in the distance.
After bidding Stella good night, I turned in myself. I glanced at the sun setting in a smattering of reds and oranges in the western sky. Yep, somewhere directly south was the Charles Darwin Research Station, my home away from home, and Fausto. I wondered what he would think when he saw me again, a Lazarus species.
I dreamt about the research station and how Fausto would read to me and sing songs on his guitar. I awoke to feel almost confident about the mission at hand and about what I must do…once Stella gave me a ride. Until then I’d be an operator sitting on the beach talking to my new found friends.
I decided to check in with Astuto to see if he had come up with a plan to swim over 6,000 miles across the ocean. Selfishly I had hoped he might inadvertently give me some insight into my situation.
In his usual direct, non-empathetic tone he told me that his hopes of hiding on a plane or a boat would be harder than he had thought. Mauritius hadn’t forgotten the dodo. In fact, there were dodos posted all around. He joked that now he knew how Bigfoot must feel. Astuto was a celebrity in his hometown, which made blending in impossible. He told me that he had spent the whole night concocting a plan and now he was ready to act.
“Is there anything I can do to help you out?” I asked expecting a sarcastic dismissal.
To my surprise, Astuto replied, “Yes. I will need your help to get to the Falkland Islands in time without being captured. I have no desire to be paraded around by the people or placed in some zoo. I’m not photogenic, as you have pointed out. I prefer to have my picture painted,” he said trying to skirt the fact that he had just asked for help.
“What can I do to help out since I’m on the other side of the planet with only the ability to communicate with you and the other animals?” I asked, equaling his usual sarcasm.
“That’s exactly what I need you to do George. I need you to communicate with the other animals for me,” Astuto said.
“You mean to do another all call as I did before? But you told me that all calls were dangerous. What made you change your mind?” I asked, wondering what he was planning.
“No. No. No Tortoise. That wouldn’t be good for our mission. We don’t want to give Lusadé any idea of what we’re planning or where the members of the team are right now. That would be bad. Plus…” he said hesitantly. “Plus I don’t want the others to know that I need… that I need help getting to the Falkland Islands.”
So this must be the old dodo bird’s fear; being thought of as dumb and incompetent. Feeling bad for Astuto and honestly wanting to help him, I asked what I could do.
“Now no one knows how you can communicate, but it seems that you can call those that you want. I was thinking about any natural ways I could get to the Falkland Islands, and I came up with one possible solution. This might sound crazy to you but hear me out,” Astuto said, sounding less than confident.
“Okay, what do you need?” I asked trying to build him up from an uncomfortable request.
“I need you to do a specific ‘all call’ for any orcas close to Mauritius,” Astuto said.
“You mean that you want to talk to a killer whale?” I said almost mockingly. I tried to figure out what the dodo had in mind. Just once, I’d like to come up with a great idea for someone before they did. I always seemed to be leading them toward a great idea, but never actually gave one.
“Yes, here’s my thought. I will travel by orca from Mauritius to the Falkland Islands,” he said matter-of-factly.
I must have laughed out loud because he hesitated before continuing, “It has been done at least once before, so it’s not as unrealistic as it might seem. By my calculations, traveling at thirty miles or so an hour by orca, I should reach Strong on the Falkland Islands in 9 to 10 days; getting me to him on day 14. We could reach Pinta Island by day 20 or so. Of course, we’ll need to get a second orca to transport Strong, but they swim in pods so it should be pretty straightforward,” Astuto said more to himself than to me.
“Wait. You said you’ve done this once before?” I asked, trying to picture a dodo bird surfing on a killer whale.
“No. No. No. Not me Tortoise. A person did it long ago. Of course, he was only in a whale for three days, and my trip will take a little more than thrice as long, but I think it can be done. Maybe I should add a day or two to my expected arrival date. Expect Strong and me to be there by day 22. Yes, expect us then,” Astuto said with growing excitement over his wisely improvised plan.
“Okay, Astuto. I will see what I can do. Are you sure you don’t want me to contact a toothless, baleen whale of some kind? I mean, how do you know the killer whale, won’t… won’t kill you?” I asked.
“The killer whale is the fastest of the whales and as I’ve said many times Tortoise; time is of the essence. I don’t want to waste a moment. I’ve found that just when things seem to be going well, that’s the time things get interesting. I have over a week in the belly of a whale to think about. Now Tortoise, please contact an orca for me. Tell the orca to meet me in Port Louis on the western side of the island. I’m not far from there now. I’ll be looking for some leaping or splashing near shore as a sign of my escort,” Astuto said, hurrying me along.
It was awkward to call all orcas near Mauritius. What I noticed about doing this, was that I could sense them and call them, but they couldn’t give a verbal reply like the members of my mission. I told Astuto that I had tried to contact them, and had put the notice out for an escort. He thanked me and said he was going to make his way down to the shore. I guess that was the biggest thanks I was going to get from him. I guess the softer side of Astuto was gone again.
“Before I go, I was wondering how you planned to get to Santa Cruz Island. Have you already begun your swim?” Astuto asked.
“Uh. I’ve been contemplating that the past day or so, and I was thinking about waiting for Stella to come to pick me up around day 18 or so,” I said, trying to underestimate her arrival day.
“No! No! No! You can’t wait that long Tortoise! There is too much for you to do at that time. You must contact Fausto as soon as possible, to complete your part of the mission. Without involving a person, we can’t complete our mission even if every member of every triad makes it to Pinta Island. I’m afraid to say that you must find a way to do it soon, or we will fail to reset things,” Astuto said firmly.
I didn’t want to discuss what I had to do with Astuto, so I bid him good luck and looked back out at the sea lay before me. How? I hadn’t seen a ship in the past two days, so that wouldn’t be my saving grace. I decided to walk a little further down the coast to see if I could find any better options.
As I crested a small rocky outcropping, I looked down in the water. There, in a slant of golden rays of sunshine, was a rather large log. I cautiously crept over to the massive log which might just be my way to cross the ocean. There were a few gnarled branches for me to balance on. I wasn’t sure if this tree had come from the island or whether the current had brought it ashore. Either way, I knew this log would be my cruise ship.
I looked down at the log and felt the pit of my stomach roll like the ocean before me. I spent some time by the log trying to muster the courage to push it out into the sea and start my adventure. I thought how a creature like Benjamin would love a thrill like this. Even Astuto’s idea of riding inside of a killer whale was painted with excitement. For me, unadventurous George, I had no desire to climb onto an unstable log and go sailing. Tortoises simply weren’t created for flight, for swimming, or for sailing.
I decided to check in with the members of each triad one last time before possibly drowning. The Southern Triad was still on pace to meet up in New Zealand tomorrow, day 5. Little Stephen had floated his bottle across the ocean to D’Urville Island. He was running as fast as possible to meet up with Moana. Moana seemed to be waiting for Stephen in Nelson, but she said, “I will go get the little wren.” And she was off again sprinting over the New Zealand terrain. Benjamin was full of optimism and still hiding out aboard the ship.
The Northern Triad had just come together and didn’t have much to report. Eldey’s plan was for them to get on board a train from New York City to Los Angeles which he estimated should take about three days, putting them on the west coast of North America by the end of day 7.
The one thing that I was taken aback by when talking with the first completed triad was that I could hear, see, and feel them. It was a strange sensation, but I could feel what each member was feeling. I had a perfectly blended picture of all three creatures in the Northern Triad from all three perspectives. This must have been what it felt like for the others when we were back in the Garden. I decided to say nothing about it for the time being.
The Scattered Triad was also doing well. Astuto was waiting impatiently on his killer whale escort. Strong was trying to locate a good place to meet up with Astuto and an orca without being spotted. He explained that there weren’t any trees on the Falkland Islands, so he had to sneak around at night or hide out in the tall grasses. He seemed eager to be back with the people. He had seen several dogs on the island, which was also a comfort to him; reminding him of his time sailing with Captain Strong. I have to admit I envied Strong’s bond with his captain. Stella was the last creature I checked in with, and she was still confidently making good time. Slow and steady wins the race was her mantra that she dedicated to me, the tortoise.
Everything seemed set. Everyone was scheduled to arrive well ahead of schedule and everyone was in good spirits, except me it would seem. Day 5 would be my day to complete my other mission, the swim. I took one last look at the blue water in front of me and shouted at it, “Tomorrow, you are mine!”
I nestled next to the great log and rested a deep down dreamless sleep. Toward dawn, I was awakened by a small whisper, You should stay here on the island. It’s not worth risking your life to make it to Fausto. There must be another way. I pushed this voice to the side, dismissing it as a post dream memory like the giddy goat I snapped at a few days before. Whatever it was, it didn’t help bolster my courage.
I didn’t want to give myself a chance to reconsider what I was about to do, so I took a few steps back and ran at the log as quickly as I could. As a tortoise, I made up for my lack of speed with brute force. I was a natural battering ram. After my seventeenth or eighteenth log ramming, it began to move away from shore. I instinctively, or anti-instinctively, stepped onto the midsection of the log where there were several branches to use for balance. I had no idea how long I might be adrift, so I wanted added stability. I had no desire to sink to the bottom of the ocean.
To my surprise, it seemed rather easy, and I thought it might work. I shifted my weight a little too quickly. My heart started racing, and I could feel a very real sense of fear take control. Even though I probably only floated a few hundred feet, I must have already broken the longest solo voyage by a giant tortoise. I was fighting my fears when a small voice again seemed to speak to me, It’s not too late to turn back. What will happen if you slip off of this log? It’s not worth the risk. The voice was no lingering dream, but something else. It continued. If you die, the mission will surely fail. It’s better to be alive and wait for twenty days than let everyone down and die now."
I again dismissed these thoughts. I floated south, or what I thought was south and within a few hours, I spotted land to the east. I assumed that it must be Marchena Island. Since things were going so well, I decided to bypass the island and head straight to Santa Cruz Island, the CDRS, and Fausto. I had figured out that if I supported my bulky shell and back legs on the tangled branches behind me, I could use my front legs as heavyweight paddles. The thought of Astuto surfing on a killer whale must pale in comparison to seeing a tortoise paddling a log across the ocean. Who knows, maybe a long lost relative of mine paddled their way to the Ark after all.
At this rate, I might be at the Charles Darwin Research Station in a few days. Then I’d have to cross the island on foot which might take several more days. Okay, I had to be honest with myself; it might take a week, putting me there around day 16 or so. That still was not too bad.
I looked off into the distance toward a growing noise that sounded familiar. I went to shift my weight slightly because a puny wave had pushed me to the side. I overcompensated and began to lose my footing. A second, slightly larger wave buffeted my log. The last thing I remember was that I was frantically lurching for branches and trying desperately to hold on. I knew that in between the islands I had no chance of holding on very long. A third wave flipped the log over, and I held onto it with all my might. Even now the cold ocean water was taking its toll on my cold-blooded body. I knew it wouldn’t be too long before it would all be over.
“I’m sorry Eldey. I have failed you. I hope that you can still reset things without me,” I said hoping Eldey heard.
I heard two voices before sinking into the depths of the cold Pacific, one saying; Hold on George, and the other saying; You should have listened to me. Things began to fade as the ocean laid claims to me.
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