Review of The Minke Connection by Murray Kibblewhite

Someone is killing protected sperm whales.

John Daroux is a New Age intellectual, martial arts exponent and Reki master, a Renaissance man with an interest in all things Japanese.  Tasked by Greenpeace to investigate the reports, he is sent to Japan along with Carrie Ardley, a whale researcher dedicated to ending the whaling industry.  They join a Greenpeace ship to hunt down the factory ship and gain proof they are hunting protected whales.  Boarding the factory ship in mid ocean, John finds irrefutable evidence, almost loses his life and becomes Carrie’s lover. While in Tokyo they are followed by the dreaded Yakusa, evade being poisoned, and survive being frozen alive.

Mark Stafford is the chief of Greenpeace, competent and urbane.  He travels to Tokyo with his beautiful associate, Petra van de Roer, to find the reason why the giant trading company, Mosaka Corporation, is killing the protected Sperm whales. While unravelling the mystery he is confronted by the cut called the League of Blood and learns the more sinister reason behind the killings. 

Will the persistent efforts of the environmental protectors Greenpeace be enough to save the whales?

The Minke Connection is a thriller with plenty of action and romance and a spellbinding saga. While not strong on characterisation there is development of individual personalities. The main characters experience a variety of challenging situations which makes for exciting reading. The author has incorporated interesting and carefully researched details about whales, dolphins and the Japanese culture and history to make the story both credible and compelling.  It incorporates business versus environmentalism, big organizations versus small and expectation versus experience.   I’m eagerly looking forward to finding out what happens next.

Review of The Minke Connection

“So the focus is right, and your writing is just fine, and there are some very strong high points in this book. I was impressed by the descriptions of the whales under the water. The sequence in which the Greenpeace team invades the whaling ship is superbly told. The personality and background of the hero is nicely put together and the man has potential to be a strong focus for you in the future.”

Geoff Walker, Publishing Director, Penguin Books (N.Z.) Limited

Upcoming The Minke Connection release

The Minke Connection will be released on 25^th November as an e-book.  A Romantic Action Thriller that has John Daroux, the “Green version of James Bond” working with Greenpeace, racing to stop a Japanese company killing whales and worse.  Pre-order your copy at Smashwords for 99c for a limited time.  The price will be $6.99 after the first month.

Why are the Japanese killing protected sperm whales???

From the high seas off New Zealand to the intricate demands in the city of Tokyo, The Minke Connection is a spellbinding saga. Matching business versus environmentalism, big organizations versus small and expectation versus experience.

Greenpeace discover that the Japanese research whaling fleet are killing more than the Minke whale. They send American born Canadian John Daroux, lecturer and adventurer, and Carrie Ardley, whale researcher, to investigate. Boarding the factory ship in mid ocean, John finds irrefutable evidence, almost loses his life and becomes Carrie’s lover. Together, John and Carrie go to Tokyo where they evade being poisoned, survive being frozen alive and endure being followed by the dreaded Yakusa. The arrival of Greenpeace chief, Mark Stafford, and his beautiful associate, Petra van de Roer, initiates a counter attack that requires John and Carrie to act as bait. Desperate measures are called for as they endeavour to outwit Takeshi Fujiwara, leader of the cult, League of Blood. John and Carrie are captured and tortured. Time is critical. John Daroux must use all his wits and knowledge to save the Sperm whales and himself. Can they succeed?

John Daroux……New Age intellectual, martial arts exponent and Reki master, he takes on the project unprepared for the tests he will experience. While he can handle the threats and challenges from the Japanese, can he handle the passion aroused by Carrie Ardley?

Carrie Ardley……young, attractive Greenpeace technician, committed to saving whales, takes on this task as an adventure. Fiercely attracted to John Daroux, she suffers torture and finds that he puts the project above her well being. Can she ever forgive him?

Mark Stafford……competent, urbane chief of Greenpeace, he takes on his biggest challenge when he confronts the League of Blood and tries to unravel the reason why the giant trading company, Mosaka Corporation, is killing the protected Sperm whales. Can he overcome the threats?

Takeshi Fujiwara……one of Japan’s most powerful businessmen, and chairman of Mosaka Corporation, he controls the lives of many. He holds a secret that dates back many centuries and the time for action is now. Can he succeed or will the persistent efforts of the foreign controlled environmental “do-gooder” Greenpeace upset his carefully prepared plans?

Chapter Three - Scene 6

Quebec, Canada                                                   Tuesday 9th March, 5.25 p.m.



“DOES that hurt?” The doctor’s question was rhetorical. The sharp intake of air and tensing of the muscles made an answer unnecessary.

Felix relaxed with the release of the probing fingers. Lying on the couch in the Ski Center’s medical room, stripped to the waist, he waited for the prognosis. The past two hours had been a trial for him. A rueful expression appeared on his face as he recalled his accident. He was still astonished at making such a stupid mistake. ‘Imagine running into a tree.’

Thinking back, he remembered his father preparing him for the long trip down. To hold his ribs in place and keep them from excessive movement, John had taken off his own jersey and strapped Felix’s right arm against his chest, knotting it on his back like a giant bandage. The extra bulk under Felix’s jacket had increased the warmth and given additional security. It helped reduce the pain when he twisted his body.

John had led the way down. Five meters behind Felix had followed his father’s tracks. Often they stopped, his father calling him before he committed himself to a pathway. Stepping back up over his own tracks, John would set off in another direction, always looking for the easiest way down through the trees.

Sometimes skiing, often snowplowing, but never cranking hard or jumping turns, they had picked their way down. It had begun to snow again. The late afternoon sun had filtered through the mist and trees, giving an eerie half-light, merging trees and shadows. Ahead of him, his father had been forced to slow his path finding.

They had rested many times. His father had rallied him with words of encouragement, adjusted the woolen ‘bandage’ and cleant his goggles. The pain in his chest had eased to a throb. He knew not to twist, brake or jump. His mind went into a daze. ‘Keep moving down. But keep it gentle.’ It was awkward using only one pole and trying not to turn his upper body. He had fallen twice. Both falls had been unexpected, when a ski had caught an edge in the soft snow. The pain was excruciating. The second fall, close to the end of the run was particularly severe. He had almost blacked out. But John had been there, helped him to his feet, handed him his pole and held him steady until he relaxed and was ready to continue.

“Well Felix.” The doctor’s voice snapped him out of his thoughts, “The X-ray shows you have two cracked ribs on your right side. They are clean fractures to be precise. Nothing to worry about.” He smiled down at him. “Of course they can hurt like hell, so we’ll strap you up. You’ll have to give skiing away for the rest of the season and keep your physical movements quiet. Otherwise no problems.”

“Thanks.” Felix met the doctor’s eyes briefly. Lowering his head back onto the pillow, he shut his eyes to close out the brightness of the lights. ‘Interesting,’ he thought to himself. ‘Dad told me I had cracked two ribs. Not one but two ribs.’ Reflecting back to the scene of the accident, he tried to recall the events after the crash.

It seemed like a dream now. Lifting up his left hand, he reached up to touch his right cheek. The skin was smooth and undamaged. ‘Did I really puncture my cheek on a branch,’ he wondered.

The doctor started taping his chest. Felix lay quietly, thinking how little he knew about his father. After his parents had divorced five years ago, when he was thirteen, his mother had taken Brigitte and himself to Calgary. They had lived with Memere and Pepere in the big house overlooking Lake Louise. It had taken a long time to settle in. Making friends had taken awhile. It had been easier for his sister, being three years younger.

He sat up as the nurse helped him on with his shirt. He hadn’t seen much of his father, only on holidays, and they only lasted a few days or a week or so at the most each year. He smiled to himself, recalling the hiking, skiing and canoeing trips. And that had been only during the last three years, because John had been in Japan prior to that.

Standing up, he smiled at the nurse. She was nice. If he was staying longer . . . He went through and sat down in the waiting room. His mother had always made out that his father was so different, that he accepted Eastern culture too easily and changed too much. Anyway she didn’t like Tokyo. Too many Japs, odd manners, impossible language, not enough white people. Real people! At the time he had accepted this criticism. But now . . . now he wasn’t so sure. He didn’t really know his father. They were never close. Today, though, that was something else. His body stiffened for an instant as he recalled the adventure. ‘I suppose I was lucky,’ he thought. ‘Here I am safe and well, apart from a couple of cracked ribs. Could have been a lot worse. No more skiing for four weeks. So what, it’s the end of the season. Hey, I wonder what we’ll do until I go back.’

“Felix, I’m sorry I’m late. How are you?” His father’s inquiry woke him from his daydream.

“Fine Dad. Fine. They’ve taped me up like a mummy,” he grinned. “The X-ray showed I’ve fractured two ribs, just like you said.”

“Good. That’s good. You’re looking much better. Let’s go and have something warm to eat and drink.” John paused, looking Felix straight to his face. “We’re going to have to reorganize the remainder of your stay here I’m afraid. I’ve just received a call from the university. It looks like I’m going to New Zealand. I’m leaving tonight!”

Chapter Three - Scene 5

San Francisco                                                     Wednesday 9th March, 6.28 p.m.



“I HOPE I haven’t left anything behind,” Carrie wondered aloud.

“Too bad if you have. It’s too late to go back now.” Amber laughed. “Don’t worry so much.”

Amber’s old Ford Capri was travelling smoothly as she drove Carrie over the Golden Gate Bridge. The glowing Pacific sunset, yellow to orange, down to red at the horizon, stretched away to their right. A palette of colors reflected off the water at the end of the spring day.

“I’m trying not to.” The two hairpins in her mouth muffled Carrie’s reply. She looked in the mirror on the reverse of the sunshade, adjusting her long blonde hair.

“Well, no delay with fog this end. That’s a good sign.” Amber carried on the conversation in her lighthearted way. “Pity you won’t be here for Saturday night. I had a great guy for you . . .”

“Come on Amber,” Carrie cut in. “Just because Dave’s away on a three month course, it doesn’t mean I’m looking around!”

“Well you’ve got to take every opportunity. WATCH OUT, BLOODY ROAD HOG!” she shouted at the driver of a car cutting in front of her. “It’s hard to find a decent fella let alone keep him these days. Now you’re going to miss Steve, Steve Newman. He’s ideal for you—brilliant programmer . . .”

“Cut it out Amber! You know how important my work is to me. Dave’s a good friend and our relationship suits me fine at present. I don’t want to start another one. You know that!”

“I know. I know. I’ve heard it all before. But mark my words my girl you’re going to fall one day. And when you do you’ll wonder what’s struck you.”

“It’ll come when it comes.” Carrie took the opportunity to change the subject. “Do you think what I’m wearing is OK?”

Amber looked to her right at Carrie’s slim willow-like figure, and felt a twinge of envy as she thought of her own short stature. “You look great. I always say you should travel in casual gear, and jeans. That top and the pink jersey will be fine.”

“Thanks.” They were now on safe ground. “What do you think of my T-shirt?”

“Well as Greenpeace doesn’t have a standard uniform I suppose “No Time to Waste -- Greenpeace” written over your boobs is as good as anything to show what you do!”

“Yes I thought so,” Carrie replied briefly before lapsing into her own thoughts. Twenty-five months had passed since she had completed the assignment with Project Jonah and joined Greenpeace. She had been lucky to head up the Whale Division of the Research Center. Of course, her Ph.D in zoology and thesis on ‘Methods of Whale Stock Assessment’ had been the clincher.

Amber was concentrating on her driving as the dusk turned into darkness. Carrie indulged herself, thinking back on how she had critically assessed the six methods of assessing whale stocks and concluded that even when results from each were combined, the level of error was still too high. Then she had proposed developing a combination of the ‘La Jolla Model’ and ‘Whale Marking’, which would be superior to all of them. This had been the basis for STROW’S development. It had been operating for six months, getting better each month as their techniques improved. And now, because of its accuracy, differences such as lower numbers of bull sperm whales, immeasurable in the past, were quickly and accurately reported.

“Is there anything else you’d like me to do?” Amber’s question startled Carrie.

“Oh. Um. Yes there is.” Carrie’s thoughts returned to the present. “Could you ring Mom and tell her I left safely. She asked me to do it from the airport. But I might not have time.”

“Sure, no problem. Anything else?”

“Ah, if you have a moment could you ring through to where Dave’s staying in Cambridge, Massachusetts. Don’t worry if you don’t speak to him. But could you leave a message that I’ll be away overseas for a week or so.” Carrie’s instruction tailed off.

“What. No ‘I’m missing you so much’, ‘My love for you is for ever’ or ‘I’m waiting for your passionate thrusts’.” Amber burst into laughter at her flat-mates embarrassed silence.

“Just ring as I asked.” Carrie’s smile was hidden in the darkness. “And please leave out the extras.”

“Right on. No worries. But you remember to enjoy yourself. I know it’s a big adventure but enjoy yourself. Try and have a good time.” Amber’s words echoed in Carries ears as the car turned off the freeway to San Francisco Airport.

Chapter Three - Scene 4

Quebec, Canada                                                                                           Tuesday 9th March, 2.22 p.m.



JOHN Daroux carefully propped his son against the trunk of the tree. He had removed Felix’s skis and made him comfortable, supported by the soft powder snow. Felix sat desultory and forlorn, the shock of his accident wearing off. In his right hand he held his father’s handkerchief, carefully covering the gash in his right cheek to staunch the flow of blood.

Interrupting the quietness, John, keeping his voice calm, asked, “Felix, are you comfortable?”

“My chest, Jesus, it’s on fire!” Half sob through pain.

John raised his eyebrows in surprise. ‘It may be worse than it appears,’ he thought to himself. Still keeping his voice steady, he shifted to a kneeling position as he spoke. “Felix, I’ll need to check you out as you may have other injuries.”

“Be bloody careful,” interjected Felix through clenched teeth, “and try not to take too long. It’s getting damned cold up here!”

“Just sit there quietly, close your eyes and relax. I’m not going to touch you and it won’t hurt, OK.” John Daroux’s voice was quiet and insistent. “Just relax.” Silence from Felix, indicated that his son was fighting a battle against pain.

Carefully, John arranged his legs into a semi-lotus position. He sat upright, hands resting on his knees, fingers lightly clenched. Closing his eyes, he took three deep breaths, expelling each slowly. He counted himself down. As he relaxed, his mind switched to his right brain and the alpha waves swept over him. His consciousness retreated.

Mentally, he visualized his son’s body. Starting at his head he pictured his brain, eyes, nose and mouth. They were all clear. But the jagged edges of the hole in his cheek glowed like a red star, confirming the injury. ‘It will have to be attended to immediately,’ he thought.

He continued checking over the rest of Felix’s body. It was all clear except for two red spots on his right rib cage. ‘Looks like he’s cracked a couple of ribs. Can’t do much about that at present.’ Counting himself back—three, two, one—John opened his eyes, clear in his own mind about the steps he had to take.

“Felix, I think you have cracked a couple of ribs on your right side which will account for the pain there.” Pausing, watching his son’s face carefully, he carried on. “I can’t do much about that, but I want to have a go at healing your cheek. It needs immediate attention . . .”

“Come on DAD!” Felix forced out his interjection. “This sounds like the hocus pocus stuff Mum said you picked up in Japan. I don’t believe . . . “ He didn’t finish his sentence because the pain shot through his wounded face.

“I know son. I know. But you’ve nothing to lose and it’s a long way to the bottom where we can get proper medical attention. So just relax.” John’s voice was persuasive and calming, overriding his son’s apprehensions. “I want you to stay relaxed and to picture in your mind your wound healing. Do you understand?”

“Yeah, I hear you.” Felix’s lack of conviction was clear to both of them.

Undisturbed, his voice soothing, John continued. “Relax Felix, relax. Keep your eyes closed until I tell you to open them. Hold the handkerchief lightly on your cheek. You will feel your face become warm. It should tingle as the healing process takes place. Expect it. Welcome it. But remain relaxed and keep your eyes closed.”

Arranging himself again in a semi lotus position, John closed his eyes and counted himself down to his level. Quiet and relaxed, he focussed on a vivid mental picture of his son.

Going first to his heart, he imagined his hands encircling it, holding it quietly, slowing down its pumping so as to lower the blood pressure and minimize the bleeding. Directing his attention lower, he pictured Felix’s spleen. Ordering it and visualizing it, in his mind’s eye, he saw it emptying its reservoirs of blood into circulation, and intensifying the production of leukocytes.

Shifting his attention to the site of the wound he observed that the tissues had been shredded, the cells, nerves and capillaries torn apart. The hole was open to invasion by a host of disease germs. Imagining a vivid ceremony, he pictured an elaborate written order being handed over to his son’s body, instructing it that a constant supply of leukocytes, phagocytes and macrophages were to be directed to the wound to devour the bacteria, consume the dead cells and dispose of other debris.

Urging the body to react quickly, he further ordered the release of lymph and plasma to keep the wound moist. Now that the preliminary process of cleansing the wound and protecting the body from infection had been initiated, the healing could proceed in an orderly manner.

Vividly picturing the cheek, he instructed the immediate creation of a new component from the blood on the wound site. Called fibroplast, it began acting as a kind of scaffolding and reinforcement. A living substance, it began to fill in over the surface of the wound, creating a patch. Emphasizing urgency in the healing process, John pictured the patch strengthening over the fiber trellis. A constant supply of material was now being transferred from other parts of the body. Tissues were being broken down and muscle changed into amino acids. The materials were being transported directly to the wound site.

“My face, my face. It’s so hot.” Felix’s cry broke the silence of the snow-covered hillside.

“Just relax. Keep your eyes closed. The healing process is working.” John’s voice was muffled as he broke temporarily from his deep meditation.

Now he urged the body to concentrate on creating granulation tissue. The drilling of capillaries and nerve terminals.

He could see the muscle fibers growing, meeting and splicing together. New skin was being formed under the scab by the skin cells. Elongating and stretching out until a fine covering formed. The new skin cells knitted together in an orderly way as the wound fully healed.

In his mind John became aware of a peaceful feeling coming over him. The red glow around the wound had disappeared. Felix’s face now had a healthy glow. His breathing was regular and relaxed.

The psychic healing had worked.

Counting himself out, John opened his eyes, and instructed his son to do the same. Gently reaching out, he lifted Felix’s hand away from his cheek. The gash had gone. In answer to the look of amazement in his son’s eyes, John smiled as he said: “There’s not even a scar for you to boast about to your friends!”

Chapter Three - Scene 3

San Francisco, Sausalito                                                                   Wednesday 10th March, late afternoon



THE seal point Siamese kitten sat quietly for a moment. It was waiting and watching. Oblivious of the view of the bay it was mesmerized by the crumpled ball of Christmas wrapping paper. Tied tightly with string, attached to the center of the window frame above, it could swing freely just above its head. Unerringly, the kitten’s paw patted the ball, stopping its swing. The warm, low sun silhouetted its body with a halo. Its whiskers were bright, the veins clear in its transparent ears. It had been playing by itself for the past half-hour. Suddenly, letting the ball dangle, it jumped down and ran through the doorway of the apartment towards the sound of voices in the bedroom.

“Well that should be enough clothes. Its autumn there isn’t it? How long do you think you will be away Carrie?” Amber Jones, sitting on the bed, looked up at her flat-mate who was cradling a pile of clothes in her arms.

“I’m not sure.” Carrie’s reply seemed to justify the look of concern on her friend’s face. “Maybe a week, perhaps two. They’re not sure. Do you think this is enough?”

“Yep. It looks enough. You’re going to be on a boat most of the time aren’t you? It should be cruisy.” She giggled at her own joke. Reaching down with her right hand, she scooped up the kitten nuzzling at her leg.

“You’ll miss your mommy won’t you little Lucy?” she crooned as she held it to her chest.

“It’s all happening so fast.” Carrie sat down on the bed placing the clothes in a separate pile. “I didn’t expect to go so soon. You know I’ve never been on a major field trip before. And to go to New Zealand.” Her voice lifted with excitement. “That’s fantastic! They’re really advanced with their research on baleens and maybe I’ll have a chance to see how they tag them.”

The kitten wriggled free. Amber looked across at Carrie, glad that at last she was showing some excitement. Ever since Carrie had received the direction to go to Auckland, she had been in a tizz. Vacillating between her eagerness to accept the challenge and her natural reluctance to change, Carrie had needed her help.

Working in the computer section of the Whale Division of Greenpeace’s Research Center, one of Amber’s jobs was to prepare the monthly STROW. Carrie had worked late the previous night to analyze the results in time for Petra van de Roer to present to the weekly executive committee meeting of International. The disappearance of nine bull sperm whales over the last two months was very odd. Carrie’s suggestion that the Japanese whaling fleet in Antarctica might be involved was a brilliant piece of deduction. But unsubstantiated. It needed investigation, urgent investigation, and Carrie, the research specialist had to go.

“Shall I take my pack?” Carrie’s request was for guidance as well as support.

“Don’t think so. You shouldn’t need to do any hiking as you’ll be on a boat most of the time.” Amber’s giggle was infectious. “You can borrow my suitcases if you like.”

“Oh great! Thanks Amber, I would appreciate that.” Her quick reply expressed her relief as another decision was made. “I’ll need my wet suit though won’t I?”

“Yes you’d better take that.” Then, as an afterthought, Amber smiled as a joke came to her mind. She looked at her tense flat-mate sitting in her white robe, nervously running the fingers of her left hand through her long blonde hair. “Maybe you’ll have to protest in an inflatable!”

“Do you think so?” The response was immediate as she sat up with a start, her voice rising an octave.

“Who knows. I’m only kidding. You’ll find out when you get there. So don’t worry about it now.” Amber’s voice was soothing. “Look, you have less than an hour before we leave. I’ll get the suitcases.”

“Thanks Amber. I don’t know what I would have done if you hadn’t come home with me. It’s all such a rush.” Her voice lowered. “I do hope Alan and Sandra can carry on while I’m away. You . . .”

“C’mon Carrie. Cut that out” Amber interrupted. “They’re very capable of looking after the Center while you’re away. Now get yourself into gear, girl. You haven’t much time left if you’re going to catch the seven o’clock shuttle to LA.”

Carrie reached out and caught the kitten hugging her close so her cheek lay against the soft fur. “Will you miss me while I’m away?” she whispered.

The room was quiet. Stillness broke only by gentle purring.