Nobody saw her slip away and enter the water. Nobody knew at all until she was halfway through the waves. Then the headlights and spotlights from the cars along the beach picked up her white dress and that little head bobbing up and down in the waves. As soon as I saw her, I knew it was Kahu.

‘Hey!’ I yelled. I pointed through the driving rain. Other spotlights began to catch her. In that white dress and white ribboned pigtails she was like a small puppy, trying to keep its head up. A wave would crash over her but somehow she would appear on the other side, gasping wide-eyed, and doing what looked like a cross between a dog-paddle and a breaststroke.

Instantly I ran through the waves. People said I acted like a maniac. I plunged into the sea.

If the whale lives, we live. These were the only words Kahu could think of.

We have lost our way of talking to whales.

The water was freezing, but not to worry. The waves were huge, but she could do this. The rain was like spears, but she could do this.

Every now and then she had to take a deep breath because sometimes the waves were like dumpers, slamming her down to the sandy bottom, but somehow she bobbed right back up like a cork. Now, the trouble was that the lights from the beach were dazzling her eyes, making it hard to see where she was going. Her neck was hurting with the constant looking up, but there, there, was the whale with the tattoo. She dog-paddled purposefully towards it. A wave smashed into her and she swallowed more sea water. She began to cough and tread water. Then she set her face with determination. As she approached the whale, she suddenly remembered what she should do.

‘That damn kid,’ I swore as I leapt into the surf. For one thing I was no hero and for another I was frightened by the heavy seas. Bathtubs were really the closest I ever liked to get to water and at least in a bath the water was hot. This wasn’t. It was cold enough to freeze a person. I knew, because I’d only just before been in it.

But I had to admire the kid. She’d always been pretty fearless. Now, here she was, swimming towards the whale. I wondered what on earth she expected to do.

I saw Porourangi running after Korn Apirana and Nanny Flowers to bring them back. Then the strangest thing happened. I heard Kahu’s high treble voice shouting something to the sea. She was singing to the whale. Telling it to acknowledge her coming.

‘Karanga mai, karanga mai, karanga mai.’ She raised her head and began to call to the whale.

The wind snatched at her words and flung them with the foam to smash in the wind.