In the spring of 2020, I left the saltwater of my Atlantic Ocean home and began a journey no Humpback Whale had ever made before. I swam a thousand kilometres up the mighty freshwater of the Saint Lawrence River. I was young, a girl, and alone.
I made my first appearance in front of the greatest city in the world, Montréal, with a single, spectacular, and defiant breach.
Yes, I really did this. It is not fiction.
Marine scientists still do not know exactly why I came. But one person thinks he does. He sat on the same rock, his black bike beside him, day after day and watched me. He did not wave or cheer like everyone else. He just watched me, quiet and still.
He named me Baleine.
He believes I wrote my story, and that he was simply a witness.
I disagree.

Baleine

From the Guy on the Rock


When I began writing Baleine, The Whale Who Dared to Come, I knew there was only one voice it could be told in. That voice was hers.
Baleine’s voice carries everything I could not. It is only through her voice that she can truly invite you into her world so you can feel what she felt. The pull between saltwater and freshwater. The pull between home and the unknown. In that pull, it is only she who can show what it means to listen, to trust, and to follow something that calls you forward.
Each day she was here, I sat on a rock on The Saint Lawrence River, my feet in the water. I was only ever the witness. She wrote her story. All I could do was try to keep up.
Why did she come? Marine scientists still ask that question. My answer is not scientific, it is something quieter. I think she came to remind us what courage looks like when no one asks it of you. To show that wonder still exists, and that sometimes we must dare to leave the place we are meant to stay to find it.
Baleine, The Whale Who Dared to Come, is a children's book, but its message reaches far beyond them. Children will feel the wonder and the bravery in her journey. Adults will see something deeper: they will see grace, courage, beauty, and the ache of impermanence. It is a book meant to be read together and shared together.
At six thousand words, forty-eight pages, and with an illustration on every page, the book defies a single literary category. But that feels right to me. Baleine herself refused to fit any category.
I did not want this story to be polished or perfect. I wanted it to feel real. When a story comes from the heart, imperfections are inevitable. I wanted it to come from where it began: a rock by the river, and an imperfect guy simply trying to understand what was unfolding before him.
She came. She came alone. She had a message. She deserves to be remembered.
Merci beaucoup, from the guy who sat on a rock and watched a miracle unfold.
I never set out to write a book.
I heard on the news that a Humpback Whale had appeared in Montreal’s harbour. I jumped on my bike and rode. I knew a secret spot, away from everyone. I found a rock to sit on, took my shoes off, put my feet in the water, and watched. I saw her five minutes later. She breached, and when she breached something instantaneously came over me. Something I had never experienced before. I would describe it as reverence in its purest form. It was what C.S. Lewis calls, a “Baptism by Imagination.” In my case, a “Baptism by Courage.”
A Humpback Whale was swimming and breaching in the freshwater harbour of Montreal. One thousand kilometres from her salty Atlantic Ocean home. A young girl. Alone. I returned to that rock every day she was here and let her write her story. I simply witnessed it. What I witnessed became Baleine, The Whale Who Dared to Come.
I wrote it as I witnessed it. From the guy who sat on the rock. The story is not perfect. The illustrations are eclectic. The words are raw. Probably with a few grammatical errors. But it is real, from my heart, and exactly what I saw from that rock. This is why I decided to go it alone. It was the only way to keep its heart. The only way to keep mine. Baleine taught me the true meaning of courage and wonder.
These days, everything is packaged so tight. Flawless. Market-tested. But life is not like that. Neither was Baleine. Neither am I. She came the way she was. Brave, bold, imperfect, and I wrote the way I am, raw, real, and imperfect.
Baleine, the Humpback Whale who followed something we will never fully understand.
“The ones who leave the biggest splashes are not the ones who stay but the ones who dared to come.”
[email protected]
ORDER NOW
In the spring of 2020, I left the saltwater of my Atlantic Ocean home and began a journey no Humpback Whale had ever made before. I swam a thousand kilometres up the mighty freshwater of the Saint Lawrence River. I was young, a girl, and alone.
I made my first appearance in front of the greatest city in the world, Montréal, with a single, spectacular, and defiant breach.
Yes, I really did this. It is not fiction.
Marine scientists still do not know exactly why I came. But one person thinks he does. He sat on the same rock, his black bike beside him, day after day and watched me. He did not wave or cheer like everyone else. He just watched me, quiet and still.
He named me Baleine.
He believes I wrote my story, and that he was simply a witness.
I disagree.

Baleine

From the Guy on the Rock

When I began writing Baleine, The Whale Who Dared to Come, I knew there was only one voice it could be told in. That voice was hers.
Baleine’s voice carries everything I could not. It is only through her voice that she can truly invite you into her world so you can feel what she felt. The pull between saltwater and freshwater. The pull between home and the unknown. In that pull, it is only she who can show what it means to listen, to trust, and to follow something that calls you forward.
Each day she was here, I sat on a rock on The Saint Lawrence River, my feet in the water. I was only ever the witness. She wrote her story. All I could do was try to keep up.
Why did she come? Marine scientists still ask that question. My answer is not scientific, it is something quieter. I think she came to remind us what courage looks like when no one asks it of you. To show that wonder still exists, and that sometimes we must dare to leave the place we are meant to stay to find it.
Baleine, The Whale Who Dared to Come, is a children's book, but its message reaches far beyond them. Children will feel the wonder and the bravery in her journey. Adults will see something deeper: they will see grace, courage, beauty, and the ache of impermanence. It is a book meant to be read together and shared together.
At six thousand words, forty-eight pages, and with an illustration on every page, the book defies a single literary category. But that feels right to me. Baleine herself refused to fit any category.
I did not want this story to be polished or perfect. I wanted it to feel real. When a story comes from the heart, imperfections are inevitable. I wanted it to come from where it began: a rock by the river, and an imperfect guy simply trying to understand what was unfolding before him.
She came. She came alone. She had a message. She deserves to be remembered.
Merci beaucoup, from the guy who sat on a rock and watched a miracle unfold.
I never set out to write a book.
I heard on the news that a Humpback Whale had appeared in Montreal’s harbour. I jumped on my bike and rode. I knew a secret spot, away from everyone. I found a rock to sit on, took my shoes off, put my feet in the water, and watched. I saw her five minutes later. She breached, and when she breached something instantaneously came over me. Something I had never experienced before. I would describe it as reverence in its purest form. It was what C.S. Lewis calls, a “Baptism by Imagination.” In my case, a “Baptism by Courage.”
A Humpback Whale was swimming and breaching in the freshwater harbour of Montreal. One thousand kilometres from her salty Atlantic Ocean home. A young girl. Alone. I returned to that rock every day she was here and let her write her story. I simply witnessed it. What I witnessed became Baleine, The Whale Who Dared to Come.
I wrote it as I witnessed it. From the guy who sat on the rock. The story is not perfect. The illustrations are eclectic. The words are raw. Probably with a few grammatical errors. But it is real, from my heart, and exactly what I saw from that rock. This is why I decided to go it alone. It was the only way to keep its heart. The only way to keep mine. Baleine taught me the true meaning of courage and wonder.
These days, everything is packaged so tight. Flawless. Market-tested. But life is not like that. Neither was Baleine. Neither am I. She came the way she was. Brave, bold, imperfect, and I wrote the way I am, raw, real, and imperfect.
Baleine, the Humpback Whale who followed something we will never fully understand.
“The ones who leave the biggest splashes are not the ones who stay but the ones who dared to come.”
[email protected]
ORDER NOW
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