He would have loved to swim into that harbor, during the day, would have loved to get some fresh, delicious fish. He would have loved to swim by the side of a fisher boat, happy, jumpy, singing one of the current hits.
But whenever he showed up anywhere near a man made place or thing, and anytime there were humans who somehow even just peeked, there would be things thrown at him. Ropes and swimming rings. Somebody once even threw a boat. A boat!
What was wrong with this human species. Why all this throwing of things, why him, why him?
In the beginning things appeared relatively funny... a family on a little boat, threw him a rope, he grabbad it and pulled them out of the harbor... This must have been what they wanted, or no?... He pulled them for hours and hours...
A few days later, all they were throwing were pieced of wood and digested food. Disgusting...
So now he avoided any human interaction... definitely during the day. When humans could see him... they were such overly visual creatures...
At night things were different. He loved nothing more than finding lovers, embraced, in the not so deep waters by the beach... he would then... hmm... we should probably interrupt this story right here...
so sad and yet so funny
actually it is a bit perverse, like a genetic experiment gone horribly wrong.
poor whales to be depicted as such.