The archipelago I live in is called Hvaler. In English this translates to whales. My 4 year old nephew has asked me repeatedly how the isles got its name, and today I could have given him sort of an answer. Because today, we watched a huge stranded whale being rescued and helped out to sea. It was a local fisherman who discovered the unfortunate big fish early this morning. He initially thought it was a capsized boat, but quickly discovered it was something else when the whale blew air from his hole. Turns out it was a 15 meter long fin whale, and he was hurt.
When I arrived, the crowd was still small, yet the local media was already there. A sea-rescue boat had arrived, and for over an hour divers worked on getting a rope around its tail, to drag him off land. Meanwhile another diver shuffled water over the body of the whale to keep him moist.
Then the fight began. Can you imagine dragging a whale backwards through the water? And even though he was hurt and weak, he did put up a fight, and the sea-rescue boat was put to the test. When the poor whale had his head above water we could clearly see he was hurt from being forced up against rocks, but the diver reassured us, the wounds were only superficial. And from the fight he put up, I think he was in good spirit after all.
Luckily, the rescue-boat won the struggle, and off he went, out to open sea.