Chapter 4

“Elsa! Olivia!” Cooper’s voice cut through the darkness of the guesthouse. For a moment I burrowed further into my blankets. Then suddenly, I sat up and clawed the covers from my head.

Today was the day. It was time to rescue August.

For three days, we’d been going out in small boats and idling next to the little orca. We’d been trying to get him used to us and the boats by floating a small chunk of log attached to a cord over the side. The log was like a signal of our presence, Arden had said. August would squeak when he saw the log and come up to the boat. Then we’d reach over the sides to touch his fins, and, when he’d turn over, rub his belly.

At first I’d been confused. I thought the whole point was that we didn’t want August to get used to boats or humans. But Mom had explained that we had to do it to prepare him for the actual rescue. If he was used to us and our boats, he’d be quieter and more willing during the rescue. Then he’d be less likely to hurt himself or one of us.

Olivia rolled out of the top bunk, and in the darkness, we pulled on jeans and heavy sweatshirts against the pre-dawn chill. Then we hurried out to meet Cooper.

“Is everything ready?” I asked him as we crunched down the steep path to the beach.

“Yeah, your mom and my mom have been down there for an hour. The NOAA scientists too,” he said. “We’ve got to get this rescue done today. We can’t delay anymore. The longer we wait, the weaker August is getting. He won’t last much longer.”

“Let’s move out!” Arden called as we came up to the boats. “Olivia and Elsa in with me. Cooper, you can go with Dr. Roth.” The two NOAA scientists, Jason and Greg, each climbed aboard one of the boats. Jason was wearing a wet suit and carrying a pair of flippers.

“All right, listen up!” Greg instructed us as the boats motored slowly out of the cove. “Our colleagues will meet us on a crane boat out where we expect to find August. We’ll use a tail rope to gently position him between the two boats. We’ll need to hold him steady while the orca stretcher is maneuvered beneath him and attached to the crane. Then the crane will lift him onto the crane boat.”

“Then what?” I asked.

“Then he’ll ride on the crane boat back to SJS. The crane boat will be staffed with NOAA trained volunteers and biologists. They’ll monitor his vital signs the whole way.”

We all nodded. I searched for Olivia’s hand in the darkness and gripped it. Her eyes were gleaming. I wasn’t sure if this was the greatest adventure of our lives, but it was sure close.

Arden leaned forward. Her face was serious. “I want you girls to be ready. This rescue is extremely risky. August could hurt himself thrashing. We could accidentally hurt him as we move him. The stress alone could kill him.”

Olivia nodded. “We’re ready,” she whispered.

The boats picked up speed as we moved across the open ocean. The cold, wet air blew against my face as the boats cut through the water. The day was calm. In the eastern sky, a pink glow grew steadily brighter.

After half an hour, Mom waved her arm at us from the other boat. “We’ve located August’s tag,” she called. “He’s in the same spot as before. He’s probably not strong enough to swim far at this point. I’ve radioed the crane boat to meet us.”

I exhaled. We’d found him. One hurdle passed.

Twenty minutes later, I saw the big red-and-white crane boat, its giant arm sticking up from the deck. It looked intimidating, but I reminded myself that it was the only chance August had at survival.

Arden and Mom slowed the boats, then cut the engines to idle so that we were only rocking on the waves. We waved to the crew on the crane boat, and they waved back.

Mom threw out the log on the rope. Two seconds later, I spotted August’s back and dorsal fin, swimming in a slow circle.

“He’s tired,” Arden said. “See how slowly he’s going? And he’s not diving or breaching. He’s exhausted and starving. He doesn’t have energy to do anything more than stay at the surface.”

“We’re here, boy!” I called to August. “Please, let us help you.”

“Throw the log,” Arden instructed.

I picked up the wet section of log from where it sat on the floor and tossed it in. One end was tethered to the side of the boat. August immediately swam over to it.

“OK, let’s get this started,” Greg called. “This is it, folks.”

My heartbeat picked up. I clutched Olivia’s arm. She shot me a nervous look in return.

Mom maneuvered her boat closer to August, and Jason carefully got to his feet. He threw out a soft, stretchy piece of white rope and landed a loop neatly around August’s tail. He pulled, and the knot tightened.

Almost immediately August squealed and tried to swim away.

“Oh!” I exclaimed.

“It’s OK,” Olivia said. “It’s not hurting him. He just doesn’t like being held.”

“I know …” She was right, but it was still hard. My eyes were glued to the scene in front of us.

Very gently, Jason towed August so that he was up against the side of their boat. August was chirping and calling and thrashing.

“Quick!” Jason called to Arden. “Steer over!”

Arden moved our boat into position, so that August was between the long sides of both boats. Greg leaned over and unrolled the orca stretcher from the side of our boat. It was a long black sling of tough cloth with two metal poles on either side. There were holes, lined with padding, cut out for August’s fins.

“OK, Jason, we’re ready for you!” Greg called.

Jason zipped his wet suit up to his neck and put on his flippers. Then he eased over the edge of the boat and into the water. He swam around the side of the boat and secured the stretcher to the other boat.

“This is going great, girls,” Greg reassured us, leaning over the boat. “I know August seems stressed, but he’s actually being quite calm. He’s not very strong, which helps.”

Cooper, Olivia, and I didn’t want to call out, but we sent silent, I hope this works messages with our eyes. It was all we could do.

The adults were all focused on their jobs. Every ounce of Mom and Arden’s energy was on keeping the boats in exactly the right position. Greg maneuvered August toward the stretcher, while in the water, Jason steadied and guided the orca. August squeaked wildly, but the adults were calm as the little whale slid forward onto the partially submerged sling of cloth.

Everyone breathed a sigh of relief. August was in the stretcher. We’d passed another hurdle.