I woke to an unfamiliar tumult disrupting the familiar night chorus of the canyons. Groggily lifting myself off the rocking boats stern to peer into the underwater lights, my eyes sought the source. Alone on deck for the night shift, the reels slept silently alongside me waiting to be jolted awake by a hungry pelagic. The noise came again, this time more discernible. Between the feeble light of a waning moon and deck lights, the vague shadow of a sperm whales back loomed ominously in the still night air. Squinting through the darkness, I was distraught to think that just over a century ago our lights would have been burning it’s ancestors spermaceti oil. As quickly as it had risen the graceful leviathan took its fresh breath of air back down to the depths, leaving me alone with my thoughts and the comforting night chorus of the canyons.