"It would be nice to go, Mum, but are you sure?" Elaine asked.
"It's something I have wanted to do for a long time," Mrs Hartley said to her daughter, hoping that would end the conversation.
"Okay, if you're sure."

Mrs Hartley went back to reading her magazine. Maybe it's not what most people her age would want to do, she thought, but it was something she felt she had to do, she didn't know why.

"Well, I'll make the arrangements and ring you when I've got it all worked out," Elaine said, gathering up her coat and bag. "Thank you, dear."
"You'll be okay? Nothing you want?"
"No. You go home now," Mrs Hartley said, smiling at Elaine.

After the door closed, Mrs Hartley relaxed. Finally she was going.

Ever since her husband had died two years ago, she had wanted to see a whale. It wasn't the same as seeing them on TV. She wanted to see one of the biggest mammals in the world alive, in front of her, in its natural element. Now she was going to get her chance.

It wasn't as if she knew a lot about whales. She wouldn't know the difference between a blue and a right whale. She didn't even care what sort of whale she saw, as long as it was a whale.

Finally the day came. Her family bundled her up in the car and said their goodbyes. Then she and Elaine drove off.

"Elaine must have pulled the short straw," Mrs Hartley thought as they left Christchurch. "Poor girl, she's always left with me. It's the families punishment for being divorced, with no children."

Mrs Hartley didn't really want a chaperone anyway and would have preferred to go to Akaroa on her own. But her family felt obliged to get someone to take her, look after her, be a companion for her. Just in case something happened, they said. She wondered how she ever managed to survive in the world before she had children to look after her.

The trip was long and dusty. It was mid summer, and although the sun hadn't put in much of an appearance during the season, it was making up for it on this day.

Mrs Hartley felt very uncomfortable. The sweat running down her back made her stick to her shirt and the shirt to the car seat. The car was like an oven. She couldn't even wind down a window because of the dust that was being blown across the road by the wind.

Finally they started to climb into the hills, and she could feel the cool air being blown in from the sea, through the vents. Mrs Hartley managed to sleep for most of the continuing journey and woke to see Akaroa spread out below them as they drove down into it.

The blue-green water of the bay sparkled in the afternoon light as they travelled along the road into the main township. A cliff was on one side, and the bay on the other. Mrs Hartley felt suddenly at peace and knew she was going to enjoy her holiday very much.

They drove to their motel and spent the afternoon enjoying the peacefulness of the old French settlement. It was the middle of the tourist season, but it still had a calming effect and gentleness compared with the city they had just left.

The next day, they had their boat trip. It wasn't as nice a day as the previous one, and there was a chilling wind whipping up the waves on the bay. Elaine fussed over her mother, making sure she had a warm enough coat and hat and taking a scarf - just in case it got any colder.

The boat slashed its way through the waves and out of the bay. The colour of the water changed as they left the confines of the hills. It looked infinitely deep. Mrs Hartley felt as if the world had disappeared under the waves and the sea had opened up to the macro of the universe. She clung to the rail of the boat with the sickening, sinking feeling of vertigo.

"Mum, are you all right?" her daughter asked, concerned.
"Yes, it just makes you feel so small, so insignificant."
"I knew this wasn't a good idea. Come and sit down."
"Leave me alone and stop fussing! You wouldn't think I was the old woman." Mrs Hartley snapped at Elaine.

Elaine turned away and walked towards the other tourists who were clustered around the tour guide.

Mrs Hartley felt terrible, she shouldn't have said those things, but this seemed so special to her that she couldn't help trying to fend off her over-protective daughter.

After eighty-five years of either being looked after or looking after someone else, she needed this time alone. She needed her space, just this once.

Finally the first whale was seen arching itself from its world into the air. The crowd in the boat yelled and laughed; cameras clicked and videos whirred.

Mrs Hartley didn't feel the same elation as the others. She had expected to, but instead she felt profoundly sad. She could hear under the soft slapping of the waves against the boat a low murmuring, like a gentle groan. She leaned over the rail, listening intently to the water.

There was a child crying! She could hear it quite distinctly. Nobody else seemed to notice.

Mrs Hartley ran over to the tour guide. "The whales are weeping."
"No, I'm sorry. The whales song . . ."
"They're not singing. I've heard whale song; it's not that. They're crying!" she shouted at him.

He smiled gently and was obviously trying to think of something to say that wasn't going to upset her more, when Elaine came over and gently pulled her mother away.

"I think this has all been too much for her," she explained to the guide, who nodded in agreement.

"Sit down and rest, Mum. Don't get so upset!"
"But don't you hear them?" Mrs Hartley asked her daughter.
"Yes, Mum. I hear them."
"Don't humour me," Mrs Hartley breathed as she sat down.
"Will you be okay here?" Elaine said as she looked towards the whales.
"Yes, I'm fine. Don't miss the show."

Elaine hurried off, leaving her mother looking sad and weary. She was still listening to the whales. They were telling her things, not in words but in sounds. She realised that it must be in her head as nobody else was hearing anything but the waves' gentle rhythm.

The whales were telling her sad things. They cried for her race. They were telling her that it was too late. The light was fading. The oceans were becoming silent, they were saying, that they could feel the life force of the mammals - their true race, their family, was bleeding, ebbing away, humans included.

They did not hate her or any of her race. They just felt sad for their foolishness, their child-like innocence of what they were doing and how much they had missed because of their limited inward thinking.

The humans' world was dying, and they hadn't even looked at it yet. The whales' world had long gone, lost in the confusion and noise of the humans' ever-expanding world.

They told her how there was very little time before silence covered the world and how the new rulers would evolve, taking over from the forgotten fossils of the former rulers - us, not just the arrogant humans, but the mammals.

Then the tour was over. The whales left for deeper waters, and the boat turned towards the coast. But Mrs Hartley could still hear the whales weeping.

Once they were back on shore, Mrs Hartley and her daughter walked back to their motel.

Elaine told her mother to sit quietly for the rest of the day. She was reassured in her knowledge that the outing had been too much for her mother and that next time she would refuse her mother anymore trips that were not tranquil relaxation.

Mrs Hartley knew her daughter's thoughts but, it no longer worried her. She knew she wasn't mad or that she dreamt the whales message. It was a parting farewell from one of the most civilised, advanced and kindest of beings to the foolish children that ran riot over their joint home.

The next day they went for a gentle walk around the shops. Elaine had gone to get them some postcards to write to the family, and Mrs Hartley walked down to the wharf.

She watched a tour coming in from a whale watch. The people chattered and prattled away to each other in excited voices. Then above the talk of the tourists, Mrs Hartley heard a child asking his father.

"Why are the whales crying?"

The father laughed at his son as they walked passed Mrs Hartley.

"Kids!" he said to his wife. "Where do they come up with these things?"

Mrs Hartley walked over to a picnic table and sat down. She looked out at the peaceful bay, its waves gently lapping at the shore. The breeze was crisp and smelled of salt. It blew against her face, and the salt of the sea mingled with the salty drops running down her face.

Elaine come over and sat down beside her. "What's the matter?" she asked.
"Just returning the sentiment," her mother replied.