Читать книгу Stingray City - Ellen Prager - Страница 10

2

NIGHT DUTY

THE NEXT NIGHT, THE TEENS WERE ASSIGNED TWO new tasks: one in the sea otter enclosure, the other in the giant kelp exhibit. They decided to go to the kelp exhibit first. It was one of the aquarium’s centerpieces, meant to showcase the lush beds of giant kelp growing along California’s coast.

In the soft glow that lit the aquarium’s passageways at night, Tristan stood staring at the giant kelp tank. It was eerily dark, and he saw little but his own reflection on the sixteen-foot-tall viewing window.

Ryder cupped his hands around his face and stuck his nose up against the clear acrylic wall. “Can’t see a thing.”

Pete was with them. “Ready for your next job?” he asked.

The teens nodded uncertainly.

“How about a little swim in the kelp?” asked the approaching senior kelp curator. She was carrying a bucket.

Tristan didn’t think the others looked ready to dive into the inky blackness of the massive giant kelp exhibit. He wasn’t so sure either. During the day, with sunlight illuminating the tank from above, the giant kelp exhibit was bright and lively. The towering, yellowy-brown seaweed resembled tall, rubbery trees with skinny stalks and long, floppy fronds for branches. And all sorts of wondrous creatures swam about, like small schools of silver sardines and silky smooth leopard sharks. But at night, the giant kelp tank reminded Tristan of a pitch-black underwater forest full of hidden creatures. It was downright creepy.

“What’s the problem here?” Hugh asked nervously.

“No problem,” the curator responded. “Windows just need cleaning.” She handed each of the teens a soft brush from her bucket.

“I thought you had divers to do that,” Rosina said grumpily.

“Oh, we do, but it will be nice to give them a break. It’s a big job to keep all that acrylic clean and free of algae.”

The curator led the teens behind the scenes to the top of the tank. Along with the brush, each was given a wetsuit, a small headlamp, and weights to make them neutrally buoyant. In addition, they each got a suction cup with a handle on it.

Tristan looked down into the dark water. The kelp swayed gently due to the motion of a nearby wave machine. A small fin sliced through the water at the surface. The others turned anxiously to him.

“Leopard shark,” he told them.

“It’s very safe,” the curator said. “Our divers go in there all the time. Nothing to worry about.”

The teens each popped a rubbery, red pill into their mouths. It was the latest and most concentrated version of Sea Camp’s amazing algae water. A compound from the algae strengthened their skills and gave them webbed hands and feet in the ocean.

“Glad Coach Fred gave us plenty of these,” Hugh noted.

“Yeah, and since we’ve been using the new ones, I think I can stay underwater longer,” Tristan added.

“Me too,” agreed Sam.

“Yeah, and my slime is better than ever,” Rosina noted, smiling sweetly at Tristan. He quickly looked away.

One at a time, the teens slipped into the water at the top of the dark kelp forest exhibit. They switched on their headlamps and sank down along the huge viewing window. The campers each chose a spot, attached the suction cup handle to the window to hold on to, and began brushing. Almost immediately, Tristan felt something graze his leg. He looked down. A three-foot-long leopard shark with black spots on its smooth, light-brown body hovered just slightly to his left. Tristan heard a voice in his head: Yo, missed a spot over here.

Yeah, yeah, that’s real funny, Tristan thought. He brushed off a layer of fine brown fuzz, which he assumed was algae. He worked his way over to the spot the leopard shark had pointed out. The animal aimed its snout at another section of the wall. Tristan decided it was going to be a long night.

When he needed air, Tristan let go of the suction cup handle and swam to the surface. On his way back down, several other leopard sharks started to swim in tight circles around him. Tristan could hear them all talking at once. They were giving him directions on how best to clean off the algae, where to scrub, and commenting on how slow he was. It was going to be a very long night.

Nearby, Hugh and Rosina were having their own problems. A small school of sardines circled Hugh, while a big orange rockfish was trying to lie down on his head. Hugh kept pushing the rockfish away and it kept coming back, ready for landing. Meanwhile, a monkey-faced eel was attempting to snuggle up next to Rosina—and anyone who knew Rosina knew she wasn’t exactly the snuggling type.

After about an hour of cleaning and dealing with some seriously annoying leopard sharks, Tristan thought he heard music. He stopped brushing and listened. The other teens did the same. Then Tristan heard the tune more clearly. Dunt, dunt . . . dunt, dunt . . .

It was the eerie theme to the movie Jaws. A little weirded out, Tristan swiveled around, trying to figure out where the music was coming from. When he happened to glance out the viewing window, he saw Pete laughing and motioning for them to quit working and swim to the surface.

“Couldn’t resist,” the communications director said as they climbed out of the tank. “Piped in the music through an underwater hydrophone. That one always gets a good reaction.”

“Dude, like, so funny,” Ryder said, trying to look cool, but clearly just as creeped out as the rest of them.

Tristan and the others took off their wetsuits, rinsed, and dried off. They then followed Pete to the sea otter exhibit. They walked by the floor-to-ceiling windows and doorway that led outside to a small amphitheater, a shallow tide pool, and the adjacent waters of Monterey Bay. It was too dark to see the kelp beds in the nearby ocean or the yellow buoys marking the intake pipes for the water that circulated through the aquarium’s exhibits.

“Hope there’s no rockfish on this next job,” Hugh said, rubbing his head as they walked. “Besides, my fingers are already all pruney.”

Pete chuckled. “Sorry about that. But since you’re here for just a short time, we need to take advantage of your unusual skills.”

“Cleaning windows?” Tristan asked sarcastically.

They arrived at the sea otter exhibit. It was the most popular spot in the entire place, nearly always jam-packed with people. Young and old alike plastered their faces up against the viewing window or stood five people deep just to get a glimpse of the furry creatures.

Tristan moved closer to the dimly lit exhibit. In the water were three otters floating on their backs. Each was about three feet long, with thick chocolate-brown fur; small, dark button eyes; tiny ears; and a furry face with long whiskers and a flat, brown nose. They reminded Tristan of cuddly, buoyant teddy bears.

The sea otter tank was roughly semicircular in shape and fifteen feet deep, with a rocky back and bottom. There was also a platform at the back of the tank. Tristan moved closer to the dimly lit tank. Two otters appeared to be asleep with their front paws curled up on their chests. The other otter was grooming, using its paws to fluff up the fur on its face. Tristan had learned from the trainers that otters must continually groom their fur to keep it clean and full of air. Without the blubber of seals or whales, otters rely on a layer of air in their thick fur pelts to keep warm. Grooming is essential to their survival in the cold ocean—as is eating. To stay warm, sea otters consume huge amounts of food relative to their body size. One trainer told Tristan it was like him having to eat one hundred quarter-pounders a day. Tristan loved a good burger or two, but one hundred a day? That might be enough to make him swear off beef forever.

One of the sleeping sea otters woke up and began paddling around the tank on its back. Kicking with one foot, it zoomed about incredibly fast. The otter bumped into the wall and then crashed into another otter, waking it up. All three began doing rolling somersaults and pedaling around on their backs.

“They are too cute!” squealed Sam.

Even Rosina was taken with the otters. “Just adorable.”

The boys rolled their eyes as if the otters were nothing special, though silently, Tristan agreed with the girls.

The senior trainer came out from a door next to the exhibit. “Ready to use those special powers I’ve heard about?”

The teens nodded tentatively.

“We’ve got a problem with one of the otters. See the smallest one in there? She’s the one with the cream-colored fur on her face. For some reason, that little otter likes to swallow air bubbles and, well, it gives her gas.”

Ryder laughed. “You mean she’s got the farts?” The other teens snickered.

“I know it seems funny,” said the trainer. “But it’s not healthy, and she’s having a hard time diving for food and getting rocks to smash open sea urchins. The purple sea urchins are her favorite.”

“Uh, what do you want us to do?” Hugh asked.

“Talk to her. Explain the problem. Tell her to stop swallowing bubbles. And we need her to take this.” The trainer showed them a small medicine box labeled Instant Gas Relief.

More giggling ensued.

“None of us have ever talked to an otter before,” Tristan said, trying to keep a straight face. “Not sure if we can.”

“Well, could you at least try?” the trainer asked. “Just go in there and see what happens.”

“Hope it doesn’t smell like sea urchin farts in there,” Ryder laughed.

After several more fart jokes and a few fake burps from Ryder, the trainer decided he was not well suited for the job. The otters could be quite sensitive. It was a small enclosure, so only two of the teens could go in. Tristan and Sam were quick to volunteer.

The two teens put on wetsuit overalls and entered the enclosure. Immediately, the curious otters turned to check out the strangers. The trainer had also given the teens a bin of enrichment feeding toys: rubber balls and cylinders filled with the otters’ favorite foods (mashed-up shrimp, crab, and sea urchin). As soon as Tristan and Sam pulled out the box of toys, the otters jumped around like kids at Christmas waiting to unwrap presents. They did somersaults, dove down, and climbed over one another, all the while repeatedly popping up to stare expectantly at the pair of newcomers.

Sam and Tristan sat down on the back platform with their legs dangling in the water. They threw a few of the treat-filled toys into the water, and the otters quickly grabbed them. Tristan then offered the smallest otter a big purple sea urchin. The otter approached him tentatively. Tristan tried to communicate with it, thinking, How about a nice, yummy sea urchin? No response. He then tossed the sea urchin into the water. The live purple pincushion sank rapidly to the bottom. The small otter dove for it. But, about halfway down, the otter stopped abruptly. Seconds later, it bobbed buoyantly back to the surface. Another of the otters then easily dove down to snag the tasty treat. As it submerged, air bubbles released from the otter’s fur rose to the surface. The small otter swam into the cloud of bubbles, opened its mouth, and swallowed.

“No wonder she’s got gas,” Tristan said, trying not to laugh.

“C’mon, you’ve got to stop doing that,” Sam told the otter. Seconds later, Sam got an odd look on her face similar to when she first learned she could echolocate.

“What’s wrong?” Tristan asked.

“I think I can speak otter after all,” Sam told him. “The otter says she likes playing with the bubbles and the way they feel in her mouth.”

“Yeah, well, explain to her why she’s got to stop swallowing them,” Tristan suggested.

Since they didn’t need to talk out loud when communicating with sea creatures, Sam was quiet, but Tristan could tell she was concentrating.

“Where’s that gas relief stuff the trainer gave us?” Sam asked.

Tristan handed her a ball filled with crab mush. “There’s a pill stuck inside.”

Sam tossed the crab ball to the small otter. It deftly caught the ball and quickly scarfed down the “pill à la crab.” A few minutes later, a swell of bubbles erupted around the small otter. Sam and Tristan high-fived and tried not to laugh but couldn’t help themselves.

“Thar she blows,” Tristan said, and they laughed some more.

Looking on from outside the exhibit, Ryder, Hugh, and even Rosina were laughing. The trainer just smiled and gave them the thumbs-up.

Sam and Tristan hung out with the otters for a bit longer and then exited the exhibit. It was getting late, and they wanted to get some sleep before returning to begin their shift as regular volunteers in the morning.

Walking back to Pete’s house, Tristan turned to their host. “Hey, tomorrow night’s that big, fancy party at the aquarium. Right?”

“Yes.”

“Guess we won’t be going for a swim in any of the exhibits then,” Hugh noted.

“Definitely not,” Pete said, smiling.