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SONG OF THE CACHELOT
AND GIANT SQUID
Seychelles stamp depicting battle between
a Sperm Whale and Giant Squid
I have a friend,
A poet Whale who
Witnessed wonders
Heard-of in the ocean.
A mighty Sperm
Engaged a giant
Archeteuthis Squid
In mortal combat.
It was a sight
That doomed all nearby
Watchers to survey
From a safer distance.
Their energies did multiply
Two brutal powers
Into one all total
Tight entanglement.
The Squid's forearms
Were wrapped, one to a rocky ledge,
The other to Sperm's head,
Thrusting vicious jolts inward.
Other tentacles
Endeavored to entwine
Our friend in bondage.
Who was slightly stronger?
The Cachelot could bite with perfect teeth
Into Squid's soft head,
Near brains delectable to eat.
Mnnnn, Squid, his favorite dish.
Squid's terrifying beak
And bloody claws
Were closing all around
The Sperm Whale's body.
Yet he didn't mind, nor worry
For he had the situation
In control, getting ready
To bite the cephalopod in two.
When suddenly, Squid lunged
Forward by surprise,
Lassoed his arms around the trunk,
Tucking Sperm against a rock.
"Yes/No, I'm caught", Sperm cried,
And lashed with all his strength
To free himself.
Before too long he'd drown.
With support from lesser arms,
The Squid retrenched himself
Securely to the cave,
His home and daily dwell.
Our Sperm friend panicked,
Thrashed such wild spasms,
He vomited,
(most appalling one might tell).
He used up twice his strength
Badly needed for return.
After all, he was six hundred
Fathoms down below.
Counting by the minutes,
Merely fifteen did remain
Before he would extinguish
To the final dissolution.
Surface mates and infants
Heard his sonar ring
In coded S.O.S's
Useless cries brought no assistance.
Air-reserves soon running out,
He gathered thrice his wits
And calculated a quick tactic
That would pull Squid's arms away.
He just surrendered, pretending
To have died, deluding
His adversary into thinking
He was ready for the diner.
But that bastard Squid
Was just that smart
To call a fake a failure.
He knew life's ways and was very shrewd.
This Whale, he thought
Had more bubbles than
The few flimsy bursts of air
He was emitting.
Why did he avoid the final struggle?
That fateful wrench and lurch
Famous of these Sperms
Too proud to ever be so conquered.
Thus the Squid held out
And waited, after all
He had time in his tentacles,
To win this game and not to lose.
The Whale fidgeted,
Knowing he was beaten.
So stupidly he pretended to come back
To life which never ended.
This was his last chance,
By feigning he was rested.
Now he lunged with all his power
To place the jaw in bite with his opponent.
It worked, the stronger forearm
Was severed in two pieces,
While our Whale sliced three chunks
Out just like seaweed in the raw.
Then he opened wide his mouth
Over Squid's head, clamping
Muscles with colossal force
Against the eyes.
The cephalopod was ravaged
To the horror of a cripple,
As doomed he was, he wanted
To hold our friend some moments more.
As both well knew,
Several thousand feet to surface
Took many moments
Straight right up to life.
Squid's beak cut the tail.
The Whale burst back enraged
In fatal glory,
Both were fighting to their final doom.
Just imagine what a risk
It is to set your appetite
Before the dreadful hunt begins,
Then to watch yourself be hunted.
"Dragons", thought the Sperm,
As he rolled around the void
Through mockeries of pain,
Thrashing to be free.
"Help me", he wailed.
Life is now ending.
His breathing was ceasing,
Way down below.
One last tug and he pulled away
From the dying monster;
He fled for the distant surface,
Swimming on faith alone.
His muscles quicken
While he races straight upward
To Light
And to home.
All his strength beats
In fractions of seconds,
Waiting to fill lungs
Burning for air.
At last, the only boundary
Between life and death appears.
BOOM! Our Sperm exhales the nitrogen,
Then breathes in fresh salt-air.
He drinks it in, panting, gasping
For an easy breath,
Shuddering along the surface, he wheezes,
Taking droughts of oxygen.
Mates escort him,
Help him stay afloat
While he gains normal breathing rhythm.
Others keep him well supported.
While he drinks and drinks the air,
Gathering slow composure,
Pretending to be proud
Despite his recent trauma.
Friends and wives
Glance far around, knowing well
Their famous Actor always acts
Stronger than he really is,
But hide their greater knowing
In demure and friendly tones,
Deferring to their Lord and Master
With cultivated dignity.
While He, stalwart and proud,
Protector of zones, master to all,
Macho in full, thrusts away, scarred,
Tattered, nattered, naked, but Free.
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