A Lighthouse for a Forgetful Whale

On a rocky little island in the middle of the sea stood a white lighthouse with red stripes. A lighthouse keeper lived there with his daughter, Solomiyka. Every evening her dad lit the great lamp at the very top so that ships wouldn’t lose their way.

One morning Solomiyka ran down to the bay to collect seashells. And what did she see? A grey back was poking out of the water, smooth as a wet stone. The stone gave a sigh, “Pff-f-f!”, and sent a little fountain up into the air.

“Oh!” squeaked Solomiyka. “Who are you?”

A big head came up out of the water. It had small, kind little eyes.

“I’m Bloop,” said the whale. “I think. You don’t happen to know where I was swimming, do you?”

“No, I don’t,” laughed the girl. “Don’t you remember?”

Bloop wrinkled his forehead. Well, as much as a whale can wrinkle his forehead.

“I was following some little fish. Silvery ones. They went zip this way, zip that way, and I went after them. Then I looked around, and there was no Mum, no Dad, no Granny. Just waves.”

He was still a very young whale, about as big as a fishing boat. For a whale, that’s just a baby.

“And where does your family live?” asked Solomiyka.

“Beyond the Three Rocks!” said Bloop happily, because that much he did remember. “The water’s green there, and there are lots of fish.”

Solomiyka knew the Three Rocks. Dad had shown them to her through his telescope: three stone fingers sticking up out of the sea, right where the sun goes down in the evening.

“Swim towards the place where the sun goes to hide,” she said, and pointed.

“Thank you!” blooped Bloop. He slapped his tail, splosh!, and off he swam.

The next morning Solomiyka went down to the bay again. And there was that same grey back.

“Oh, hello!” said Bloop happily. “You don’t happen to know where I was swimming, do you?”

“Bloop!” cried the girl, throwing up her hands. “You swam home yesterday!”

“I did,” nodded the whale. “But then I saw a jellyfish. Such a pretty one, like a pink umbrella. I followed it for a little while… And then a little while longer… And here I am.”

On the third day a pod of dolphins led him astray. On the fourth day it was a cloud shaped like a doughnut.

“You’re as forgetful as our cat, Purrkin,” said Solomiyka. “Every morning he forgets he’s already had breakfast.”

“Can your cat sing?” asked Bloop.

“No. He only miaows.”

“Well, I can!” boasted the whale. “And I never forget a song. Mum says my ears have a better memory than my head.”

And he began to sing: “Voo-o-o, voo-o-oom.” The song was deep and long and slow. It made the water in the bay tremble, and the seagulls on the rocks went quiet to listen.

Solomiyka clapped her hands. Then all of a sudden she fell silent and thought very, very hard.

“Bloop,” she said slowly. “What if we made the way home into a song too?”

That evening she took her dad’s old lantern and sat down on a stone right by the water. When she covered the lantern with her hand, it went dark. When she took her hand away, there was light. Like this: blink, and blink-blink, and one lo-o-ong glow.

And as the light blinked, she sang:

“Blink — and blink-blink — and a lo-o-ong glow! Tail to the light, and home you go!”

“What does that mean?” asked Bloop, puzzled.

“When you see my song, turn your tail to it and swim straight ahead. It’ll push you along from behind, all the way to the Three Rocks.”

Bloop gave it a try. He turned his tail to the lantern, swam a little way, splish-splosh, and looked back.

“It works! And what if I turn my nose to the song?”

“Then it’ll bring you back here, to me,” laughed Solomiyka. “But you need to go home!”

They practised the song until the stars came out. Bloop sang along in his whale voice: “Voo — voo-voo — voo-o-oom!” It sounded so funny that Solomiyka laughed herself right off the stone and into the shallow water. Lucky she was wearing her wellies.

“Now, whenever you forget the way, look for my song,” she said. “I’ll shine it every evening.”

Bloop swam off. A day went by, then another, then a whole week. The whale didn’t come back. Solomiyka felt a little bit sad and a little bit glad. Sad because she missed him. Glad because he was probably home by now.

Then one evening a fog came creeping in from the sea. It was thick and white, like milk in a bowl. You couldn’t see the rocks, or the waves, or even your own shoes. Dad went upstairs to light the lamp. And just then a small, frightened voice drifted out of the fog:

“Voo-o-o… Solomiyka-a-a…”

“Bloop! Is that you?”

“I was following a seal,” sniffled the whale. “And now everything’s white. I don’t know where the sun is. I don’t know where the Three Rocks are. I don’t even know where my tail is any more!”

Solomiyka dashed upstairs. Stomp-stomp-stomp, round and round a hundred steps, until her head was spinning.

“Dad! Bloop’s lost in the fog!”

Dad looked out of the window and shook his head.

“The lamp is shining, sweetheart. But in fog like this, the light spreads out like butter on hot toast. The whale will see a bright smudge, but he won’t know which way to swim.”

“Yes he will!” cried Solomiyka. “If the light sings our song!”

Dad was surprised, but he didn’t argue. He showed her a big iron handle next to the lamp.

“Pull it, and the lamp hides behind a shutter. Let go, and it shines again. Just hold on tight.”

Solomiyka grabbed it with both hands. She pulled: dark. She let go: light.

Blink, and blink-blink, and one lo-o-ong glow.

Then she ran out onto the little balcony around the lamp and sang into the fog as loudly as she could:

“Blink — and blink-blink — and a lo-o-ong glow! Tail to the light, and home you go!”

Silence. Only the waves whispering down below. And then, suddenly:

“Voo — voo-voo — voo-o-oom!”

“He remembered!” Solomiyka jumped for joy.

Somewhere in the fog a tail went splosh!, and they could hear Bloop swimming further and further away. Solomiyka kept on shining and singing. Her arms grew tired and her voice grew hoarse. So Dad laid his big warm hand over her little one, and they pulled the handle together.

They shone the light for a long, long time. Then, far, far away beyond the fog, another voice answered. It was so very deep that the lighthouse gave a faint hum:

“VOO-O-O-OOM!”

Then came another voice. And another. And among them was a thin little “voo-o-oom” they knew well.

“That’s his mum,” Dad said softly. “And the whole family.”

Solomiyka laughed. Then, for some reason, she cried a little. And then she laughed again.

In the morning the fog melted away, and the sea turned the bluest blue. Solomiyka ran down to the bay, and there were fountains! A big one, an even bigger one, and a little one that was the most cheerful of all. A rainbow sparkled in the spray.

The big mother whale swam closer and sang so gently that the seagulls settled down on the rocks to listen. It was a “thank you”. Solomiyka understood it without any words.

“Mum says now I can swim anywhere I like!” called Bloop. “Because I’ve got your song. And I never forget a song!”

“So do you know where you’re swimming now?” asked Solomiyka with a sly smile.

Bloop thought about it. Then he jumped right up in the water.

“I do! Home!”

And three fountains, a big one, an even bigger one and a little one, slowly swam off towards the place where the sun goes to hide in the evening.

A week went by. Every evening, just as she had promised, Solomiyka sat on the stone by the water with her lantern and shone her song out to sea. Only now she sang it more quietly. Because the song pushed whales along from behind, away from the lighthouse. Away from her.

Then one evening a voice came drifting in from the sea:

“Voo — voo-voo — voo-o-oom!”

Solomiyka froze. The voice wasn’t going away. It grew louder and louder, closer and closer, and then that same grey back came up in the bay.

“Bloop!” gasped Solomiyka. “Are you lost again?”

“No, I’m not!” the whale snorted proudly. “I came all by myself. On purpose! I turned my nose to your song, like you said, and I swam and swam, and it got closer and closer.”

“And you didn’t forget?”

“I forgot the way,” Bloop said honestly. “But I remember what you said while we were singing. My ears have a good memory!”

Solomiyka laughed so hard she nearly fell off her stone.

“So why did you come, Bloop?”

The whale wrinkled his forehead. Well, as much as a whale can wrinkle his forehead.

“Oh,” he said. “I forgot.”

Then he blew a little fountain into the air and beamed all over:

“Oh, now I remember! To see you.”