Manatee Blues Read Free Page A

out of it. “We identify manatees by their scars. That is definitely Violet.”
    Gretchen puts her hands on the edge of the boat and hops into the waist-deep water. Carlos and a couple of his staff do the same thing.
    “What are they going to do?” Zoe asks Dr. Mac nervously.
    “They need to examine Violet’s injuries,” Dr. Mac says. “If she’s not hurt too badly, they can treat her cuts and release her to heal on her own.”
    Gretchen and Carlos talk quietly as they inspect the cuts on Violet’s back. Carlos puts on a stethoscope and places it on the broad back of the manatee to listen to her breathe.
    “She’s so calm,” Maggie says.
    Dr. Mac frowns. “That’s not good. It could be a sign that she’s really run down and exhausted. Normally, she’d swim away from people.”
    Gretchen grabs a face mask and snorkel off the
Gordito
, puts them on, and ducks her head underwater. When she comes back to the surface and takes off the mask, her face is grim. She wades back to our boat, climbs in, and opens one of the medical kits.
    “How is she?” I ask.
    “She’s in serious trouble,” Gretchen says. “It’s definitely a boat strike—the propeller marks prove that. She has a pneumothorax. The propellerprobably broke a couple of ribs, and the ribs made a hole in the left lung. Air from the punctured lung is trapped in her chest cavity. That’s keeping her rolled up on her side. She’s like a cork floating on top of the water. We have to get her back to the center, or she’ll die.”
    I have a million questions, but Gretchen is too busy to answer them.
    Some of Carlos’s staff are unfurling a big net. One of the men slowly drives the
Gordito
in a big circle, pulling the net so that it wraps around Violet. Carlos and Gretchen wade out of the way so they don’t get caught in the net themselves.
    “Dr. Mac, how are they going to get her out of the water?” I ask. “She must weigh a ton!”
    “Probably close to a half ton,” she replies. “They certainly can’t pick her up the way we pick up an injured cat or dog. They’ll use the net to pull her up into the boat. That’s why the boat has no real back end—to make it easier to transport manatees.”
    I adjust the focus on my camera and snap a few shots of Violet being loaded onto the boat. It takes all six adults to pull her in by hand. Once she’s secured, Gretchen wades over to us again.
    “Brenna, do you want to ride along in the
Gordito?
” she asks.
    “Are you kidding? Sure!” I bolt from my seat and raise my foot to climb into the water.
    “No, hang on,” Gretchen laughs. “Wait a sec. Carlos will bring the
Gordito
alongside.”
    When the rescue boat is right next to ours, I step into it. There’s a tiny bit of room for me behind Carlos, right next to Violet’s head. I sit down, and the boat heads slowly back to the center.
    I can’t believe I’m actually this close to a real live manatee!
    Violet’s leathery skin is gray like an old nickel and has bristly hairs on it. Algae and barnacles are growing on her back. When I did my report, I found out that fish snack on the algae that grows on manatees, like they’re floating dinner tables or something.
    I sneak a look at the deep propeller cuts on her back and sides. I can see the white layer of blubber under Violet’s skin. Those cuts must feel like the worst thing in the world. Manatees are sensitive to touch. They like to cuddle with each other and nuzzle with their funny snouts.
    She opens her nose flaps and exhales, then inhales quickly. Manatees have to come to the surface of the water to breathe. That’s part of the problem. When they’re near the surface, they’re more likely to get hit by boats.
    “Here, listen to her lung for me,” Carlos says, handing me his stethoscope and watch. He points to where I should listen, on the right sideof her back. “You won’t get any respiratory sounds on the left because that lung is punctured. She should be breathing about once a