the next morning to retrieve the whale from Water Cay that he’ d spotted from the plane. He planned to take Dave with him in one of the boats, if she could stay behind and cover the Earthlings. He told her about Ketten coming into Grand Bahama, and his plan to fly over and meet her there. But he didn’t mention the destroyer. Not yet. He wanted to figure out what the Navy was up to first. Right now all he had were questions.
Diane knew he had served in the Navy. But that was a storyline out of his distant past, long before they’ d met. She would have been in kindergarten when he entered flight school. To a schoolgirl in the Bahamas, Vietnam and the Cold War were a distant galaxy. He’ d never told her what he did in the Navy, and she’ d never asked any probing questions. For a quarter century, he’ d been able to keep his undercover work for the Navy under wraps and out of sight. Until the USS
Caron
showed up in the canyon.
Six months after his divorce from Julie, Ken met his future third wife, Camille, at UC Santa Cruz. They were both studying marine biology, she as an undergraduate and he as a graduate student. After serving as a naval officer with 100 men under his command, Ken found it hard to be back in school as a student. He was 30 years old, and most of the other grad students were still in their early twenties. After two restless semesters, he heard from a Navy buddy about an assignment working undercover in Japan, and decided to reenlist.
Officially, there were no American military advisors on Japanese naval bases, so Balcomb’s mission was sensitive. He worked in Top Secret Special Category, tutoring the Japanese navy at Yokosuka on how to use the latest generation of American listening equipment to track Soviet submarines heading out of Vladivostok. Balcomb’s “cover” was posing as a bearded American biologist doing field research—which, in fact, he was, on his own time, touring Japanese whaling stations in search of Baird’s beaked whale specimens for his PhD thesis. A year into his tour, Camille joined him in Japan, where they were married. She fit in perfectly as Balcomb’s wife and fellow researcher, since she was studying the dolphin drive fishery in Taiji for her master’s thesis.
Hitchhiking with half-brother Howie Garrett (
left
) on Highway 101 along the Washington coastline, summer 1972.
Ken’s second Navy tour ended in 1975, and he and Camille resettled in Puget Sound. When he launched his orca survey that first summer back, Camille proved to be a stalwart research partner. But then the
Regina Maris
appeared on the horizon, and his marriage was soon on the rocks.
The
Regina Maris
was a floating dream of a boat, a tall ship straight out of an Errol Flynn swashbuckler: a three-masted, 144-foot barkentine driven by 16 canvas sails and a square-rigged foremast. George Nichols, Jr., a retired medical researcher from Harvard and a great-grandson of J. P. Morgan, had retrofitted the
Regina
as the flagship of his newly launched Ocean Research and Education Society. The
Regina
’s mission was to track and study Atlantic humpback whales while instructing college students in marine biology. Nichols hired Ken as his chief scientist and paid him $1 a day. From Ken’s point of view, it was a great deal. He’ d saved up $10,000 from his Navy tours, and the
Regina
provided him free room and board and the chance to survey whales from the deck of the most fabulous ship under sail on any sea.
The
Regina Maris
under sail in April 1979, off Magdalena Bay, Baja California, Mexico. Balcomb was chief scientist on this research ship for twelve winters, from 1976 to 1988.
Camille was less enchanted by life aboard the
Regina
. The wooden deck boards leaked when it rained, and she soon grew weary of sleeping in dank, mildewed sheets. During their maiden voyage in the North Atlantic, the
Regina
sailed headlong into a winter hurricane and almost sank. When they finally made port, Camille
Diane knew he had served in the Navy. But that was a storyline out of his distant past, long before they’ d met. She would have been in kindergarten when he entered flight school. To a schoolgirl in the Bahamas, Vietnam and the Cold War were a distant galaxy. He’ d never told her what he did in the Navy, and she’ d never asked any probing questions. For a quarter century, he’ d been able to keep his undercover work for the Navy under wraps and out of sight. Until the USS
Caron
showed up in the canyon.
Six months after his divorce from Julie, Ken met his future third wife, Camille, at UC Santa Cruz. They were both studying marine biology, she as an undergraduate and he as a graduate student. After serving as a naval officer with 100 men under his command, Ken found it hard to be back in school as a student. He was 30 years old, and most of the other grad students were still in their early twenties. After two restless semesters, he heard from a Navy buddy about an assignment working undercover in Japan, and decided to reenlist.
Officially, there were no American military advisors on Japanese naval bases, so Balcomb’s mission was sensitive. He worked in Top Secret Special Category, tutoring the Japanese navy at Yokosuka on how to use the latest generation of American listening equipment to track Soviet submarines heading out of Vladivostok. Balcomb’s “cover” was posing as a bearded American biologist doing field research—which, in fact, he was, on his own time, touring Japanese whaling stations in search of Baird’s beaked whale specimens for his PhD thesis. A year into his tour, Camille joined him in Japan, where they were married. She fit in perfectly as Balcomb’s wife and fellow researcher, since she was studying the dolphin drive fishery in Taiji for her master’s thesis.
Hitchhiking with half-brother Howie Garrett (
left
) on Highway 101 along the Washington coastline, summer 1972.
Ken’s second Navy tour ended in 1975, and he and Camille resettled in Puget Sound. When he launched his orca survey that first summer back, Camille proved to be a stalwart research partner. But then the
Regina Maris
appeared on the horizon, and his marriage was soon on the rocks.
The
Regina Maris
was a floating dream of a boat, a tall ship straight out of an Errol Flynn swashbuckler: a three-masted, 144-foot barkentine driven by 16 canvas sails and a square-rigged foremast. George Nichols, Jr., a retired medical researcher from Harvard and a great-grandson of J. P. Morgan, had retrofitted the
Regina
as the flagship of his newly launched Ocean Research and Education Society. The
Regina
’s mission was to track and study Atlantic humpback whales while instructing college students in marine biology. Nichols hired Ken as his chief scientist and paid him $1 a day. From Ken’s point of view, it was a great deal. He’ d saved up $10,000 from his Navy tours, and the
Regina
provided him free room and board and the chance to survey whales from the deck of the most fabulous ship under sail on any sea.
The
Regina Maris
under sail in April 1979, off Magdalena Bay, Baja California, Mexico. Balcomb was chief scientist on this research ship for twelve winters, from 1976 to 1988.
Camille was less enchanted by life aboard the
Regina
. The wooden deck boards leaked when it rained, and she soon grew weary of sleeping in dank, mildewed sheets. During their maiden voyage in the North Atlantic, the
Regina
sailed headlong into a winter hurricane and almost sank. When they finally made port, Camille
Similar Books
