It was a Sunday and the heavy storm had lasted all night. The morning after the storm, though, was beautiful: blue skies, warm air and a calm, inviting sea touching the shore gently.

My father realized it was a good day for fishing and invited my sister and me to go with him. I was only 14 and fishing had never been my thing, but I decided to go all the same. I'm so glad I did.

On the road to the harbour we could see the terrible destruction on the coast, but the harbour itself was in fairly good shape. After all, it was protected by the arms of a bay that had only one tiny channel to the sea. As we got on board, we noticed two big hums (脊背) in the distance.

On approaching them, we saw it was a mother whale with her baby. We couldn't believe it—there aren't any whales along the coast here. The storm must have driven them across the ocean into the bay, in which the still water was so badly polluted that nothing could survive.

The little baby whale—actually as big as our boat—was obviously stuck and could not move. The mother dived under the water and came up suddenly, making big whirlpools (漩涡) and waves. "She's trying to help her baby, but on the wrong side," my father said. At this point, my father moved our boat in a semicircle to the other side and, heading the boat towards the baby whale, pushed it gently. With our several gentle pushes the big hump turned over and disappeared under water. Then it swam up right beside its mum. They struggled in their desperate attempts to escape but missed the exit and started heading in the wrong direction. We hurried up to the whales and tried to lead them towards the bay channel. Slowly, they let us lead them, sometimes rising from the water right beside us to breathe—and to give us a trusting (信任的) look with those huge eyes. Once they hit their first part of clean water flowing straight from the sea, the mum gave us a wave with her tail and off they swam into the distance.

In the excitement it had felt like only a few minutes, but we had been with those wonderful animals for almost an hour and a half. That was the simple and lasting beauty of the day. Nearly four decades later, I still look back fondly to that golden day at sea.