Nine Foot Whale Schlong

by Beau Dashington

Editors note: We are back again, again. Again.

Any of you who follow the PSBC, will know that we love animals. They’re just so huggable and loveable. We don’t love animals as much as Malcolm J. Brenner, who wrote an autobiographical account about how he loves to fuck dolphins. We love animals a healthy amount, which is why we can’t stop reading books about dogs.

And so I turn to another book about animals, this time set in the deep blue sea. There is something fascinating about giant monsters from the depths. These leviathans in the dark waters live not in the sea, but in our dark imaginations, swimming freely in our dreams and haunting our nightmares. Which is why I decided to read a book about the most terrifying ocean monster of all; the blue whale’s penis.

On the face of it, John Gordon Davis’ book Leviathan is about a group of people trying to stop the massacre of whales in the oceans. It was written in the 1976, at the tail end (pun intended) of the global Save the Whales campaign. The book opens with the story of a lonely blue whale cow, swimming alone in the sea, desperately searching for a mate, her sweet whale song receiving no response. Our main character is then introduced; the incredibly manly Justin Magnus, a millionaire playboy who has just taken over his father’s Oceanic exploration company. Justin is intelligent, muscular, and the author describes him as “almost too dashing.” If only there were a woman who could tame his beast.

Enter Katherine, a young secretary who is fast of wit and large of bosom. A career girl, she doesn’t get distracted by men, especially not a dashing playboy like Justin Magnus. At first, she just isn’t Justin Magus’ type, since he thinks she’s a “smartass” more interested in a career than a man. But he can’t help notice her charming personality and her super-sized tits. As the author puts it, “She knew how to dress she always wore high heels. Her body always looked healthy.” There’s nothing like a good healthy woman to free a playboy’s willy.

I mean, come on people, you can’t write a blog post about whale penis without at least one Free Willy gag, amirite?

The narrative returns to our lonely blue whale cow, whose calls are finally responded to by a blue whale bull. The cow and the bull swim towards each other, and finally meet, overjoyed to have finally found company in the lonely ocean.

This love tale is paralleled by Katherine, who resists the temptation of men, until she hears Justin Magnus talking about how much he loves whales, and how they need to be protected from the vile Japanese and Russians who are hunting them to extinction. She tells him that she fell for his “enormous feeling for the whales…The desperate plight they are in.” She gets naked, and they fuck. A lot. And they take sexy baths together. Very sexy baths.

And then the whales fuck.

At first, they can’t though, as the male has never seen a female before. His “nine foot whale penis was out strong and bursting” as it searched the ocean in vain for his lover’s blowhole. Finally, his “bulky member” finds its place, and he deposits his love juice.

Those of you brave enough to read the whole sordid tail (see what I did there?), you can do so here.﻿ A calf is born some months later, and the lovers think they will live in wedded bliss, until the worst whaling ship in the world spots them making sweet-sweet love; a Russian ship called Slava. They interrupt the love-making, killing both the cow and bull, as the calf swims in circles in panic.

Its then that Justin Magnus tells Katherine his plan; he is going to use his father’s millions to travel the seas sinking the whalers. As the cover of the book tells us, “There’s one sure way to save the whales… sink the whalers!” Justin Magnus assembles a crack squad to help him and Katherine. First up is Henry Thorogood, a submariner from the British navy who fought the Jerries during Dub-Dub-Two, and fights the only thing worse than Nazi scum: Russian whalers. Second is Steve Gregowosky, who has “animal magic.” He is known to stare down wild animals, from lions and rhinos on the African Savannah, to hammerheads and great whites in the ocean. As he puts it, “no animal can kill me, and man is an animal.”

I was trying to find a great quote about how man is an animal, and this is the best I could find. But I can’t really agree with you, Adam, I saw two dogs in an alley last night, and it looked like they were exchanging bones, know what I’m saying?

The last member of the team is an African American, who has escaped a life of hell in Birmingham Alabama, where “everything was dark and black.” He has a tendency to burst into gospel music, and praise Jesus at every opportunity. His name – and I swear I’m not making this up – is “Black Bob”. I can’t help but be reminded of one of Louis CK’s more infamous comedy bits, on the naming of African American characters in American literature. Anyone expecting Black Bob to be a magical negro that will lead the white protagonists to salvation may be disappointed, as his gross incompetency quickly leads to his own death.

The team locates the Slava which is massacring whales at a rapid rate. The team launches their attack, placing limpet mines on the side of the boat. Black Bob dies almost immediately; one of the mines goes of unexpectedly, and he gets blown to shit, with his guts rocketed up into the sky. The Russian crew is made up of lots of women who are experts at hacking up whales; and they grab their knives and start fighting back. They catch Steve unexpectedly, and a “wide-eyed Russian whalewoman bitch” hacks at him with her whaling knife. She gets him on the neck, chopping off his head. “And a whalewoman kicked the head furiously and it went rolling through the blood, and then another kicked it, and it went skidding towards the edge of the slipway, and then it rolled down. The head went tumbling down the slipway leaving a long trail of blood, then it splashed into the water at the bottom with a plop, and it was gone.”

They place the mines, and they jump into the helicopter to make their escape. One Russian with a gun manages to fire off a few shots, one of which hits Justin Magnus a deathly blow. As they fly away, they detonate the mines, destroying the whaling ship Slava as Justin departs this mortal coil. Katherine assures him that he didn’t die in vain, and that he succeeded in saving the whales for “all mankind”, as the narrative returns to the lonely calf, swimming in the ocean, calling for a mate of his own.

As the book closes, I found myself asking: just who was the titular leviathan? Was it Justin Magnus and his empire? Was it one of the great whales? Perhaps it was man’s ego itself, cruelly destroying the environment and wreaking ecological disasters? But as I reflect on the book, I think we all know that the real leviathan is; the nine foot whale penis, and its lifelong search for a warm home.

Beau Dashington, 2019