Whale I Never

I have to admit, I didn’t want to go and see the whale in the Thames over the weekend, and wouldn’t have wanted to even if I lived in London. Even if I lived right on the banks of the Thames where it was, I wouldn’t have wanted to see it.

I can understand why people wanted to. But in general if a whale’s that bloody lost, it’s going to die. The stupid thing with whales is that when they’re epically lost, they seem to follow the ethos of “I’m lost, I’ll just keep going straight on ’til I find something that’s familiar”. And even if it had been towed back to sea, the odds are that – for that reason – it would’ve come straight back up the Thames again.

So no, I didn’t want to see it. I didn’t even want to see it on TV. When we were in Iceland a couple of years back, we did see some whales in their natural environment – not many, because it wasn’t the right season, but we got lucky. Seeing them like that was fantastic, and I’d love to go on a proper whale-watching trip. (and have every intention of doing so) But seeing one lost, disoriented, and not in its true natural environment? No, that doesn’t/didn’t appeal one little bit.