The story is "The Spirit of the Great Auk," and the man is Dick Wheeler, a Marshfield native whose life's dream was to make an extended ocean kayaking trip. "Wheeler's story," says O'Callahan, "is one that should be heard." O'Callahan feels honored to be the one to tell it.

THE STORY

The story begins in 1989 when Wheeler stumbled across a book about the great auk, a seabird related to the puffin. He was shocked to learn that extinction of the species was documented, bird by bird, right down to smashing the last egg. Horrified, he could not imagine why someone would purposely make a species extinct.

Wheeler, approaching 60, had just retired from a teaching career. One day, after visiting his brother Bob, a Marshfield fisherman dying of leukemia, he was struck by the fact that he too might not have much time left. He realized that if he was ever going to make his dream of a long paddling trip a reality, he had to do it then. Inspired by his readings on the great auk, he decided that he would start out in his kayak from Funk Island off Newfoundland, and travel down the Canadian and New England coasts to Stellwagen Bank, following the long-extinct bird's migratory path.

Wheeler's plan was to build a curriculum around his journey, to take what he learned to schoolchildren in Canada and the U.S., drawing attention to the plight of endangered seabirds and the environment He received funding from Stellwagen Marine Sanctuary, the New England Aquarium, the Museum of Science, and WGBH (there was a NOVA program about him), and after two years of planning he was ready to go.

Although he intended to take his story all over North America, Wheeler did not want to tell people what to think. Knowing that artists can move people in ways that others cannot, he decided to let others tell his tale. That's where O'Callahan came into the picture. He contacted O'Callahan by phone and asked to commission a story for the project. Intrigued by the proposal, O'Callahan signed on.

Wheeler left in July, 1991, and O'Callahan, like many others, followed his journey through news and radio reports. He was there on the beach when, four months later, Wheeler completed his 1500-mile trek by paddling down the Cape Cod Canal. O'Callahan was deeply moved when, upon arrival, Wheeler gave an impromptu summary of his trip and gravely announced that not only are seabirds in danger, but also the sea itself.

THE JOURNEY

Eventually O'Callahan learned the details of Wheeler's journey. On July 13, 1991, Wheeler and his kayak were escorted via fishing boat to Funk Island by Bill Sturge, a Newfoundland fisherman. The next day, in stormy seas, he began. The first day of the trip involved paddling 40 miles from Funk Island to the coast. Any 40-mile kayak trip would be in itself an impressive feat, but in this case there were icebergs to avoid, huge waves and strong southwest winds blowing directly into his face.

Wheeler had grown up on the sea; he was also a Navy veteran. He knew that he shouldn't fight the sea, that he had to work with it instead. These were not normal conditions, and he couldn't help but wonder if the sea was testing him. He paddled all day and deep into the night, finishing the first leg of the journey after midnight. With 18 hours of paddling behind him, he had to be lifted from his kayak.

"What Dick Wheeler did the first day was in my mind one of the greatest adventure feats done in one day, ever," comments O'Callahan. "It's something the Greeks would have admired and sung about."

As research, Jay and his wife, Linda, traveled to Newfoundland to see the villages and the landscape, and to meet some of the people Wheeler had encountered on his journey.

"I spoke with an old, wise man who exemplified Newfoundland fishermen," O'Callahan said. "He thought Wheeler was extraordinary. He couldn't understand how anyone could survive out there in such a small boat. The surf is high and the shores are rocky - boats get smashed apart out there all the time."

By completing this difficult passage Wheeler earned the respect and trust of the local fishermen. "They saw that he knew the sea," O'Callahan explains. But he never expected what happened next: He was given a mission.

In his research for the trip, Wheeler had learned that one of the biggest threats to seabirds was a lack of food. Supplies of capelin, a little fish that birds such as puffins and larger fish such as cod rely on for food were dwindling, their numbers decreased by zealous overfishing in the name of profit. Wheeler had heard rumors of a "fishing crisis" but he was warned not to mention it among the locals, that it was too sensitive an issue as it affected the livelihoods of most of the people he would meet.

As Wheeler set out for the second day of his journey, Bill Sturge pulled him aside, and in barely a whisper spoke the words no Newfoundlander had dared to say. "It's a national emergency. In five years there will be no fish."

"The Newfoundlanders know the sea," O'Callahan explains, "And they know that (Wheeler) is a heroic and knowledgeable man. They trust him. And they ask him to do what no one else has been able to do, to get the message out about what's going on with the fishing industry"

"This is extraordinary," O'Callahan continues, "because they are not going to the government, they are going to a Yank in a 17-foot kayak."

FISHING CRISIS

Those of us who do not look to the ocean for our livelihood haven't heard much about a fishing crisis. Prices in local fish markets have remained stable, and if there is indeed a crisis, it has yet to make an impact on our lives.

The crisis exists. In short, our technological advances have surpassed the ocean's ability to produce and regenerate life. Over the past 50 years, the international fishing industry has grown immense, with massive "floating factory" trawler ships that catch and process a ton of fish an hour, taking in all that they can and later discarding what they cannot use.

The problem is that we're taking too much too soon. It takes cod seven years to mature but we're taking them at age two, before they've had a chance to reproduce. And so every year there are fewer fish. The race for short-term profits has brought serious declines in fish populations, and fishermen must continually go farther out to sea to bring in enough to support themselves.

News traveled rapidly on the fishing radios, and soon everyone up and down the coast knew of Dick Wheeler, "The Auk Man," who had "come in from the Funk."

Often he would stop at small coastal villages where he would be treated to what he came to call "aggressive hospitality." They'd take him home, feed him a huge meal, give him the best bed for the night, and show him on a map where to put his boat in the next day.

And often they'd pull him aside. "Tell them," they'd say, "tell them we shouldn't be catching the juveniles. We're doing it to survive - because no one has made us stop. If one man stops then his neighbors will just get what he doesn't.

"You're not just a fisherman," they'd say. "You're educated, you're an American. Tell the Canadian government. Maybe they'll listen to you."

Wheeler was startled by what his role had become. What had started out as a journey to call attention to seabirds had taken on a more urgent tone. He was no longer traveling in the name of an extinct bird but a dying resource. "It's not my journey anymore," he thought. He knew he had to bring the fishermen's message to the world.

DRAFT

Two years later (1993) O'Callahan began work on the story. When he completed a draft he would try it out on a small audience, often inviting friends and colleagues to informal dress rehearsals in his home. He did extensive reading on seabirds and the ocean itself, and even took kayaking lessons. Over the course of two years, the story began to take its final shape.

"He wasn't looking for criticism for quite a while," Wheeler recalls, "but when he was satisfied with the story, then he began to solicit it, practically stopping people in the street."

O'Callahan would work on the story for a while and then go back to Wheeler to clarify details, often to get more information on a point that had not seemed important before.

"A storyteller doesn't usually get the opportunity to keep coming back to a person," O'Callahan comments, "to go over the story with him, to keep asking questions as they arise."

One question that kept arising for O'Callahan was how best to get the message of the story across. He wanted to move people but he was afraid he would end up preaching to them instead.

"Preaching is ineffective. It doesn't get to people's hearts." O'Callahan says. "I needed to find a way to reach their hearts."

"We say the sea is dying and people don't know how to respond," O'Callahan continues. "They can't respond - they can't even conceive of this. Words don't work because this is too big, too mysterious to take in."

"It's not my job to find a solution to the problem, but rather to bring you on a journey, to guide you through an experience that will give you a better sense of our place in the natural world," O'Callahan explains. "I want people to suddenly be there, not in the room but in the kayak, paddling through the fog, struggling to keep the boat from turning over."

"To some extent," O'Callahan continues, "it's a spiritual story. That's where the drama is in life. That's what makes a true adventure - something spiritual happens inside a person and they are changed. And if it is a huge enough adventure, they are changed forever. Dick Wheeler does not return the same man. He has changed."

TELLING THE STORY

After years of work, O'Callahan now feels that the story is ready to go public. "It's very exciting when something inside a story comes alive," he says. "It has taken on a life of its own, and I'm very excited about that."

Last fall he performed "The Spirit of the Great Auk"- with rave reviews - in both Nantucket and New Zealand. Soon he'll be bringing it here, performing one night each in Norwell and Duxbury, before a week-long theater run in Gloucester. He's hoping that the story will move people in a way that will expand their environmental awareness.

"I want audiences to meet these people of Newfoundland and be embraced by their warmth and biblical sense of hospitality, like Dick Wheeler, to be invited into their world and to experience what he experienced," he explains, "and also to be part of the inner adventure, to go through some of the process of shock and upset and then ask 'What's going on with us?'

"I want them to experience what's happening to the sea," he continues, "and what's happening to the fishermen in Canada, Maine, Marshfield . . . and maybe they'll think about how we relate to the sea and nature, not necessarily looking for answers or solutions, but maybe they'll experience it in a new way."

Reprinted from South Look
with permission of Kezia Bacon.

top of page