Two years ago, Jimmy and I passed up the chance to go whale watching while in Iceland. When my sister shared the particulars of her whale watching experience off the coast of California (she said she was sea sick the entire time) as Jimmy and I debated the merits of our opportunity, I erred on the side of caution.
The captain of the tiny fishing boat in charge of the expedition admitted there was no guarantee we’d see whales during our four-hour expedition, but he thought the chances were good.
Besides, I was sick later that night just listening to those souls braver than I wax eloquent about the experience of a lifetime; the experience I’d passed up, because I was such a whale-watching woos!
I captured a picture of this fine specimen during our recent trip to Israel’s ancient seaport city of Jaffa/Joppa.
She comes with a whale of a story, one of biblical proportions I alluded to in my first Jaffa post. The story is a popular one – the story of Jonah and the whale; the story that kept rolling around in my head like the credits at the end of a movie as we (Jimmy, me, and the rest of the members of our tour group) walked the streets of old Jaffa two months ago.
Jonah, Jonah, Jonah! What were you thinking?
As the story/scripture goes, God whips up a storm during Jonah's passage; the decision is made to throw Jonah overboard in hopes of calming the seas. The tactic works! Jonah is promptly swallowed by a whale and spends three days and three nights inside the belly of the whale rethinking the error of his ways!