Wexford Harbour

I was at Wexford Harbour the day the whale beached.

I had no words to describe the size of her then, and I’ve found none since.

But it was her calmness that struck me most. The way she turned, lazy and deliberate. Stranding herself on Swanton Bank as if she were sunbathing.

I wondered, then, what drove her to it. So much size and power – what could make a creature like her give up?

It was the next day I saw pictures of the whale-calf carcass. Caught, killed and posed with by the fishing crew, then discarded over the side.