Prose Assignment: Chapter 84

Passage based question

Dolphins were fairly regular visitors. One group stayed with us a whole day and night. They were very
gay. Their plunging and turning and racing just beneath the hull seemed to have no purpose other than
sporting fun. I tried to catch one. But none came close to the gaff. And even if one had, they were too
fast and too big. I gave up and just watched them.

I saw six birds in all. I took each one to be an angel announcing nearby land. But these were seafaring
birds that could span the Pacific with hardly a flutter of the wings. I watched them with awe and envy
and self-pity.

Twice I saw an albatross. Each flew by high in the air without taking any notice of us. I stared with my
mouth open. They were something supernatural and incomprehensible.

Another time, a short distance from the boat, two Wilson's petrels skimmed by, feet skipping on the
water. They, too, took no notice of us, and left me similarly amazed.

We at last attracted the attention of a short-tailed shearwater. It circled above us, eventually dropping
down. It kicked out its legs, turned its wings and alighted in the water, floating as lightly as a cork. It
eyed me with curiosity. I quickly baited a hook with a bit of flying fish and threw the line its way. I put no
weights on the line and had difficulty getting it close to the bird. On my third try the bird paddled up to
the sinking bait and plunged its head underwater to get at it. My heart pounded with excitement. I did
not pull on the line for some seconds. When I did, the bird merely squawked and regurgitated what it
had just swallowed. Before I could try again, it unfolded its wings and pulled itself up into the air. Within
two, three beatings of its wings it was on its way.

I had better luck with a masked booby. It appeared out of nowhere, gliding towards us, wings spanning
over three feet. It landed on the gunnel within hand's reach of me. Its round eyes took me in, the
expression puzzled and serious. It was a large bird with a pure snowy white body and wings that were
jet-black at their tips and rear edges. Its big, bulbous head had a very pointed orange-yellow beak and
the red eyes behind the black mask made it look like a thief who had had a very long night. Only the
oversized, brown webbed feet left something to be desired in their design. The bird was fearless. It
spent several minutes tweaking its feathers with its beak, exposing soft down. When it was finished, it
looked up and everything fell into place, and it showed itself for what it was: a smooth, beautiful,
aerodynamic airship. When I offered it a bit of dorado, it pecked it out of my hand, jabbing the palm.

How does Martel make this a striking moment in the novel?