Breakfast at Sam and Lee's, part 1: A harpooner, his phone and a whale

As I have done every day since I arrived here Monday evening, I got out of bed this morning and then walked straight to Sam and Lee's for breakfast. The school district has provided me use of a vehicle while I am here, but I like to walk and it is only a few blocks away. In the past, I would split my breakfast visits up – some to Sam and Lee's, others to Pepe's, but of course with Pepe's burned to the ground, I can't go there anymore. I stepped in to find one other patron having breakfast – Larry Aiken.

Here, Larry gestures to where he had placed his phone as he hunted bowhead this fall with the George Adams crew. Larry was harpooner and when the whale came, he harpooned it. Immediately afterward, he saw something small and red in the water. It was his phone. It sunk and now lies somewhere on the bottom of the Chukchi, near Cooper Island. Another crew member used his own phone to shoot a video of Larry throwing the harpoon. Even as we ate, Larry made a call to see if he could get a copy of the video to upload into his new phone.

Text added at 10:26 AM. The Squarespace nightmare continues - day 56 and counting.

Just before Larry Aiken left the ice to go to the hospital, a bowhead whale came and looked him in the eye as if to say, "Here am I."

The night before last, I got a text from my friend, Larry Aiken of Barrow, informing me that he was back in Anchorage, where he had undergone surgery at the Alaska Native Medicial Center. Yesterday, I drove into Anchorage to take Margie back to her weekly babysitting responsibilities and to attend a meeting about an excellent upcoming project it looks like I am going to get to do.

Afterward, I dropped by the hospital to visit Larry. He showed me this picture he had drawn, and told me the story behind it. On April 27, he was out on the sea ice off Barrow where he had gone whaling with his crew, captained by George Adams, but the time had come for him to pack up and leave, as he had stomach surgery scheduled in Anchorage.

This would be the latest followup to the many surgeries he has undergone since his first treatments for esophogeal cancer in 2010. The cancer had not returned, but there had been so much damage to his stomach that much tissue had to be removed. Another crew had struck a whale, so George and some of the other crew had gone off in the motor boat to help look for it. As he soon had to leave, Larry had stayed behind. He was in the tent, getting ready to pack up and go, but first he fixed himself a cup of soup.

Then he heard another whaler who had stayed behind come to the tent door. He spoke in an excited whisper  and told Larry to come out right now, because a whale had come to his camp. Larry almost didn't believe it, because the whale had surfaced silently, without making hollow, explosive sound bowheads usually make when they first surface and blow, but he went out - and there it was, a bowhead whale, right in front of the umiak. Now, he needed to get into that umiak as quickly and quietly as possible, walk to the front, pick up the harpoon and darting gun and see if he could get in the right position to throw.

He tried to be quiet, but as he walked up the umiak to the front, the sound of his feet walking over the bottom of the umiak made much more noise than he hoped. He knew the whale could hear everything he was doing - but the whale did not dive. Instead, as he picked up the harpoon, the bowhead lifted its head above the water and then with one eye looked straight into Larry's eye.

He did not have a good shot to throw the harpoon as the head of the bowhead is framed in massive bone and a strike there will be ineffectual. For the next two full minutes, Larry told me, he and the whale maintained the basic position seen in the drawing, looking at each other the whole time. The whale studied him the whole time, looking him up and down, often making and holding eye contact.

It was, Larry told me, the most wonderful two minutes of his life.

From the time he was small, Larry had heard the elders teach that as important as hunting skill is, when it comes to the bowhead whale, skill is not enough. For a crew to take a whale, the whale must give itself. The whale chooses the worthy hunter, the worthy crew.

Now, as he connected directly with the whale through eye contact, he felt this whale was giving itself to him. After the two minutes, the whale lowered its head back into the water. Here, Larry quickly draws another sketch to show me the position the whale took when it then resurfaced in front of him.

Now, the whale was in perfect position to be struck. Not only did it hold the position, it tilted its head in such a way as to cause the vertebrae behind it to separate to allow the harpoon to sink in and the bomb that would be fired by the attached darting gun to penetrate through to a vital organ.

Larry thrust the harpoon. It sunk in. The darting gun fired. The whale disappeared below the surface of the water. He heard and felt the repercussion of the bomb as it exploded. He waited, along with the two whalers there with him. Having heard the news on the radio, George Adams and those in the power boat had turned around and were motoring their way back. As they drew near, the whale surfaced about 300 yards away from where Larry had struck it - dead - there had been no need for a second shot from a shoulder gun, there would be no need now for an assist from those in the motor boat or any other boat. The bowhead had shown Larry the spot and Larry had hit it.

Inside him, Larry knew, this whale had given itself to him.

"Thank you, Lord!" he prayed.

The 27 foot-whale was taken to nearby place of thick, flat, ice and hauled up. Even before it could be completely cut up and hauled back to Barrow, Larry boarded the Alaska Airlines jet that would take him to Anchorage. After being given his anesthetic, as Larry lay waiting to be taken under the surgeon's knife, an image appeared in his head. It was of himself, out on the ice. He saw himself raise the harpoon, just as he gestures here...

Then he went out. At about this time, up in Barrow, elder Whitlam Adams offered a prayer and blessing over the VHF radio, so all the community would know it was time to come to the George Adam's home and be fed. He told the community the whale had been harpooned by Larry Aiken, who even now was going into surgery.

Larry did not get to partake of that feast. When he finally came to, two-thirds of his stomach had been removed. Even so, the surgery had gone well. When I visited him, Larry's spirits were good. He felt optimistic. He remained enthralled by the manner in which this particular whale had come to give itself to him.