The Otter and the Ocean

          One morning, Otter was awakened by the sound of the ocean, so he said to himself for the very first time, "I wonder."

            Later that morning he and his older brother were in the shallows breaking clams open with stones. "Brother," said the younger otter, "have you ever seen the bottom of the ocean?"

         "Of course I have," said his brother. "I know the ocean well."

"What's it like?" asked Otter.

"Oh, it's very deep," said his brother.

"Is it?" asked Otter, and he dropped his clam, half-eaten, in the water.

"Sure. Watch this!" And then Otter's big brother shot out past the sand bar to the middle of the bay. There he lifted himself halfway out of the water, waved, and plunged below. He was gone for less than a minute, but to Otter it seemed much longer. When he finally did break to the surface again, he held up a paw. But Otter could not see that he was holding tiny pebbles and bits of shell until his brother had swum all the way back to the shallow.

"Rocks and shells," said his brother, "as far as you can see."

"Really?" asked Otter.

         "Oh yes, that's what the ocean is like, a floor of sand that goes on and on. But don't worry. You'll see it all some day."

But to Otter's thinking there was nothing mysterious in rocks and shells.   

         That afternoon, he and his father were busy with the work of opening a new den—much higher over the water than their old one—when Otter said, "Father, have you ever seen the bottom of the ocean?"

         "Of course I have," said his father. "I know the ocean well." 

"What's it like?" asked Otter.

"Oh, it's very deep," said his father.

"Is it?" asked Otter, and he stopped his work to listen.

"It is. In fact, it's as deep as a full-grown stalk of kelp, and you know how long those can grow." Then his father took him to the entrance of the den and pointed to the ocean beyond the bay, to where the kelp beds began. "Many times I've had to hunt for clams where the kelp grows from the bottom," his father said with evident pride.  "And it is like swimming through a forest at night." 

"Really?" asked Otter.

"Oh, yes," said his father, "and that's what the ocean is like, a forest of kelp that goes on and on. Some day when you're older you'll find out for yourself."

But again, Otter couldn't help but be disappointed, for he could see nothing more frightening in a stalk of kelp than he could in rocks and shells. 

That evening, Otter was walking alone along a cliff overlooking the bay and the ocean beyond it, thinking of rocks and sand and kelp when he came upon his grandfather. He was sitting on a patch of lichen watching the sun go down. His grandfather was very old, the oldest otter in the colony. The fur around his eyes and mouth was gray, and he let the younger otters gather clams for him now. He was old, but most thought him to be very wise.

Otter sat down next to him. "Grandfather," he said, "have you ever seen the bottom of the ocean?"

His grandfather was quiet for a moment, and then he said, "I'm afraid I know very little about the ocean."

Oliver's shoulders fell at the words, and he rose to his feet to go, but his grandfather kept talking, "When I was young, about your age, I swam to the bottom of the ocean, and it was sandy and flat."

"Really?" said Otter, but if he sounded curious he didn't mean it.

"And when I was older and had cubs of my own," his grandfather continued, "I swam to the bottom of the ocean, and it was like walking through a forest of tall trees at night."

Otter stood quietly and waited for his grandfather to finish.  He was hoping that he might still have time to play in the high tide. 

"But one day, while I floated over the kelp beds preening my fur, a storm came in suddenly and took me far out to sea. I grew hungry, so I dove hoping to find food. I dove so deep that the water grew cold and pressed in on me, but I knew that if I didn't eat, I would die, so I went deeper."

"Deeper?" asked Otter, sitting down again. 

"Finally, I reached bottom."

"And what did you see?" asked Otter.

"I saw the edge of a cliff, like the one we are on now," said his grandfather, and then he peered over the edge, and Otter knew that he was remembering that day.

"And what else?" asked Otter, "What was at the bottom of the cliff?"

His grandfather turned to Otter and shook his head.  "There was no bottom," he said, "just a darkness that went on and on." Then he smiled. "Like I said, I know very little of the ocean."

Otter drew in a deep breath, and then he watched the setting sun until it winked out under a pink and orange sky, for his hopes of playing in the tide had slipped quietly away at the thought of a bottomless ocean.