"Look, a buddy!" the girl shouted, pointing at the false Orca dancing on the waves before them. The two girlfriends had, as usual, set up a small buffet of marine delicacies on the wall by the sea. The spot at Spilia was perfect, close enough to the waves but high enough to stay dry if a larger wave came. The view was spectacular, with The Hydra Strait in front of them and Peloponnesus in the background. Did anything happen on Hydra, it was here with all the taxi boats speeding by, yachts, each more expensive than the last, coming and going from somewhere, and now and then an old caique gently and calmly plodding along the waves. But what was that compared to this!?

Once a week, they met for a long lunch during siesta. While others slept, they could peacefully enjoy all the treats they had prepared with the help of their mothers and grandmothers. This was a picnic at its best, a true potluck where they each contributed their specialities. The girls could not have anticipated that this would become such a special lunch, or they would have brought even more food. As it was, they ended up going hungry from the table. But it was a pleasure nonetheless. Read on, and you'll understand why.

My story's protagonist, the false Orca named Odysseus, resided in the sea off the Peloponnese from 1950 to 2014. Even after their earthly life, these intelligent creatures embark on a remarkable journey, becoming Time-travellers and finding themselves in a paradise, a cluster of distant water planets orbiting the star Earendel, a staggering 28 billion light years away. This seemingly impossible journey is made feasible by a wormhole, a cosmic gateway as vast as a worldly highway, enabling a whale to traverse the universe in a matter of weeks. Now, back in his familiar territory, Odysseus yearned to expand his hunting grounds and explore new horizons, such as the intriguing island of Hydra.

This is the tale of Odysseus' expedition in the Saronic Gulf, where he spotted one of the old boats, a Hellenic Seaways Flying Dolphin, and followed it via Aegina to Poros. Impatiently waiting as the boat disembarked passengers, he decided to go sightseeing, check out the beach at Monastiri, and snatch a few fish from a fishing net off Cape Spathi. His journey led him to an old wreck near the small island of Nisis Soupiá and, further on, a taverna just a few meters from the shore. The aroma from the humans' kitchen was enticing, but Odysseus found it challenging to reach the beautiful terrace. However, he had his lucky moments, like when he roamed around one of the tavernas in Ermioni, right at the quay. Odysseus nearly startled a waiter, who dropped a tray full of delicious grilled octopus. Everything fell into the water beside Odysseus, who relished the unexpected feast. Fresh octopus is good, but having it prepared is even better.

Undeterred by his previous experiences, Odysseus swam across the Hydra Channel to the island he had heard about, Hydra, a popular holiday destination for humans, dolphins, and whales. He decided to explore the island clockwise, his curiosity leading him to the lighthouse at Zurva and a couple of caves at Limnioniza, a beautiful little beach on Hydra's uninhabited side facing the Myrtoan Sea. The solitude was peaceful, but the lack of treats was disappointing.

Disappointed, Odysseus splashed his tail fin against the water's surface, sending a spray halfway to the beach. He swam onto a more populated beach on Hydra's backside, Saint Nicholas. Unfortunately, the little lagoon was too shallow for a big false killer whale boy like Odysseus, so he moved on. The same was true for Bisti Beach, but it didn't matter since the scent of the tourists' packed sandwiches could have been more exciting.

On Hydra's front side, the western side facing the Peloponnese, houses began to cluster, and here and there, a tavern appeared with a chance for a bite. In a small bay called Molos, there were some fantastic villas and a few visiting yachts outside. These usually dropped goodies. Not today, just the crew, so Odysseus swam further north. The Four Seasons Hotel at Plakes, with a taverna and private beach, would generally be perfect, but there were only a few sleepy hotel guests at nine in the morning. Human breakfast didn't appeal much to Odysseus; scrambled eggs, smelly cheeses, toast, and sweet marmalades were not his thing.

The beach chairs along the shore were empty. Not a soul to scare, not even a bag of Peanut M&M's, Odysseus' favourite candy, which hit the market in 1954 when he was just four years old. Odysseus had heard many good things about the taverna at Vlychos, so he paddled in to check it out. Not a soul, not even a half-eaten breakfast left behind. The coast here is steep cliffs and inhospitable, accessible only to rock climbers and those like Odysseus who came by sea. There might be the occasional fresh fish, but no people and no M&M balls.

The next possibility was the castle-like establishment of Castello, but he snorted at it. People had fun there in the evening and night, but the nearby beach was called 'Baby Beach' because it was so shallow that small children could splash around, not for a false orca. Now, Odysseus wasn't a shark gobbling up children as snacks, so it wasn't worth scraping his belly for some crabs and other trifles.

He swam past picturesque Kamini with a taverna high up, even though it was said to have excellent fish. But what the heck, twenty meters above the sea required flying fish for him to participate. If Odysseus had been mischievous, he could have swum into the little harbour below and scared the heck out of the old men always sitting and lying on the benches by the yellow Mansion. Many were retired fishermen, so he could have given them a true fish tale to tell their grandchildren. It could be about time. It would have been enough for him to open his mouth and show his teeth for the old men to soil themselves. Some of these old men probably couldn't tell the difference between a shark and a sardine.

Only near Hydra's large horseshoe-shaped harbour, at a place jutting into the sea with three tavernas in a row, first the smaller bar Hydronetta, first row for spectacular sunsets with a drink in hand—now Odysseus was careful with alcohol. There were twelve hours until Sunset, and he had no desire to wait for a non-alcoholic beverage for so long, so he snuck past and rounded the restaurant Sunset with its fine oyster bar. Oysters are delicious but are much fuss for almost nothing. Odysseus ate them whole while humans swallowed them and washed them down with Champagne. He had tried the sparkling drink; it tingled his sensitive palate but made him happy, so why not? But as the great human poet Shakespeare said, "Much ado about nothing."

The next place, Spilia, was a hit, right next to it and another poet's favourite swimming spot. Leonard Cohen. There sat two girls on a rock ledge just above the water. They had a picnic basket full of goodies. It looked interesting. Odysseus made a plan. Not to scare them but to charm them. Girls usually liked it when he danced on the waves. Then, there was a chance they would throw goodies at him for dancing more.

When Odysseus came sneaking around a cliff, they were munching on a quintessential seafood delicacy, Garidaki Ydras or Hydra shrimp, a unique variety of tiny shrimps that inhabit the sea around the island. Bright red, delicate, and sweet, the tiny crustaceans are packed with flavour, making them famous. Odysseus's sharp eyes needed just one look to take in this veritable marine smorgasbord. "It might be worth a few circus tricks," he thought.

The most common way to enjoy these tiny crustaceans is crispy fried in olive oil and garlic, typically seasoned with salt and pepper. Perfect for a hungry False Orca. Due to their delicate nature, fried shrimp, including tails, shells, and heads, are usually eaten whole.

Kalamarakia tiganita som låg på ett fat mellanflickorna är inte fy skam heller. This classic Greek dish consists of squid rings and tentacles that are seasoned dredged in flour and fried until crispy and golden brown. Fried calamari is a restaurant staple, typically enjoyed as an appetiser or a meze dish. It is usually complemented by lemon wedges and garnished with freshly chopped parsley. Odysseus älskade kalamari, särskilt skivad i ringar och tillagad. Det var lösgodis för en falsk Orca.

Lakerda is an absolute delight for a gourmet like Odysseus. Lakerda is pickled raw fish typically prepared with steaks of mature Atlantic bonito, a firm-fleshed fish similar to tuna and mackerel. When thoroughly cleaned, the thick fillet slices are either dry-salted or covered in a salty brine before they are stored in olive or vegetable oil. Lakerda is usually an appetiser or part of a meze, a traditional meal service consisting of small dishes. Fresh herbs, spices, onions, and a drizzle of olive oil typically accompany it. This would hit the spot, and Odysseus licked his lips.

Then one of the girls with ripped jeans spotted him, and Odysseus flashed his broadest smile, giving a little wave with his tail fin. The girl called out to alert her friend, who was busy with a calamari ring. An extra tail fin wave did the trick, and the girl with the calamari tossed it towards Odysseus, who caught it in mid-air with a dull thud as his jaws snapped shut. The girls laughed delightedly and threw each of their treats to him. He snapped up the first one, another calamari, and then the other, a delicious Lakerda. His jaws clamping shut made the girls laugh almost to tears. This was enough for half a dozen treats, but more effort was required. Odysseus had to leap up and dance on the water surface below the girls with only part of his tail in the water. That trick was enough for the girl with the jeans to throw another treat, which Odysseus caught on his way back into the waves. It tasted delicious, and the girl had shouted that now he would get one of her aunt's Danish fish patties. The jeans girl told her friend in a white skirt and a faded denim top that her aunt was married to a Dane and that the recipe was hers.

It was a traditional pan-fried fish patty that tasted just as good in Greece or even better. Auntie had made them from a creamy mixture of ground white fish fillets, eggs, milk, onions, various spices and fresh herbs, cream, breadcrumbs, and other seafood ingredients such as salmon and shrimp. The girls could keep the potato salad for themselves while Odysseus stuck to the essentials. He made another leap and got a treat in the air as thanks. After a while, the treats began to run out, and the girls became more discerning. It took high jumps and clever acrobatics for more goodies.

Then Odysseus thought that a tale from the underwater kingdom might help. If it is surprising to the reader that a false orca can make himself understood by humans, I fully understand. The girls were also surprised when they heard a foreign inner voice introduce itself. Since they were two intelligent girls, they soon realised that for a false orca on time travel, speaking to humans is no problem. He promised to tell a real whopper from the marine world if he got the last two Danish pan-fried fish patties that had won their way to Odysseus's heart through his stomach. He said they could enjoy the potato salad themselves. The girls accepted, and Odysseus lay on his back in the water and, through telepathy, told them about his cousin, the false Orca from Aegina, who won an unbelievable battle with a fisherman just from Hydra. Before Odysseus could start, the girl in the white skirt threw a grilled calamari to him to wet his whistle. It had nothing to do with the story, but a calamari is always a calamari.

"My cousin Ajax was not a small false orca but one who worked out every morning and jogged a few nautical miles in the evening," Odysseus began, patting his belly with his right fin. "In between, it was all about getting food for himself and his family, which was quite a round too. In our family, we help each other and share." Odysseus nodded meaningfully, for that is what false orcas do.

"The day had started well; cousin swam straight into a tuna that wasn't looking where it was going. That's how it goes under the surface: one's death, another's bread. Even though the tuna was a hefty thing, Ajax gulped it down in three bites. He's pretty greedy, my cousin, not like me, a gourmet. One might think that the cousin should have been able to take it easy. Not Ajax. He got hungry just seeing a tuna. And he did.

Ajax hadn't flapped his tail many times before another tuna swam by. It wasn't as big as the one in his belly, but Ajax thought it could keep the first company. Ajax swam up to the poor tuna and gulped it down whole, not even bothering to bite, just opening his mouth, and the fish disappeared down his throat with the line and all."

"Line!!" exclaimed the girl with the ripped jeans.

"Shit!!" added the one in the faded denim top. Both girls were brilliant and sensed this wouldn't end well.

"Exactly!" the false Orca's voice resonated inside their heads. As all Time-Travellers do, Ajax could read others' thoughts since that is how Time-Travellers communicate, by exchanging thoughts. "This is going to end badly. The fisherman who had hooked the tuna was from Hydra and one of those die-hard types, the kind who doesn't settle for half-measures; only the best was good enough and with a margin. By the way, his name was Lucas. Lucas loved to fish like Ernest Hemingway and the boys when out on his own in his free time. If you fish for swordfish off Poros, you might hook a hungry great white shark, and then the gear has to hold. Even if no great white shark has been seen in a hundred years, you never know when the next time will be. You have to be prepared. Their respective manufacturers guaranteed both rod, reel, and line to hold thirty-eight tons, a whale the size of a humpback. Cousin's 2500 kilos were, in other words, no match for such equipment. Even though Ajax could swim and dive like no other, he had a troubling handicap. He was nearsighted." The girls laughed hysterically at the thought of a nearsighted whale.

"No matter how cousin Ajax hopped and tugged at the line, it refused to break," the false Orca continued his story. "The fisherman's boat, the old traditional caïque, was extremely seaworthy but normally made modest eight to nine knots, now it was rushing forward at triple that speed, on average, because at times, cousin desperately tried to swim away from the old man in the boat behind. Ajax thought the fisherman would eventually chicken out and let go of the rod. No way! The old man would rather die than let go of his Shimano Triple Beastmaster rod with a reel that could handle a blue whale if the rod was properly anchored." The girls were doubled over each other with laughter at the mental images Odysseus painted.

"The ageing fisherman Santiago's and a giant marlin's battle in Ernest Hemingway's 'The Old Man and the Sea' pales compared to Ajax and his fisherman. Not that Hemingway did a poor job, but because Ajax and my cousin's adventure was extraordinary." Ajax was in his element and had discreetly received a handful of those delicious sardines.

"The old man screamed and cursed, damning the enormous fish before him. The Greek language is rich in rants, and the old man didn't forget any. 'Malakas' appeared in almost every curse. The journey proceeded at a furious pace across the Saronic Gulf, and the old man showed no signs of wanting to give up. He had tied himself to the steering console and wrapped a leather strap around the rod stuck in a holder on the deck. If the old man had had a heart attack at this point, the journey would still have continued until the line broke or the cousin gave up. Ajax was as stubborn as the old man, as stubborn as an old goat; he swam on, muttering and snorting to gather strength. But we false Orcas also produce more complex vocalisations, like screams and barks and can mimic the sounds of human voices. If someone hadn't heard a false orca scream' Malakas,' they got the chance now. Ajax couldn't help but mimic the old man's roar. It seemed effective, so he kept at it. 'Malakas!' rolled over the waves and reached distant shores. The Greek Orthodox Church has a penchant for building churches and monasteries in inaccessible places as if God preferred those places to stay away from people.

On the island of Sifnos, on a rugged cliff, outside a church dedicated to the Church of the Seven Martyrs, a priest stood with his entire worldview shaken. Below the cliff, an unbelievable scene sped past, a whale dragging an old man behind it, and both were roaring 'Malakas' in chorus. The man of God had dedicated his life to God in vain and decided to go to the tavern in the village a bit away and drown his doubts in a hefty dose of Raki." The girls screamed with laughter.

"Couldn't he just spit out the tuna?" asked the girl with the frayed white skirt after she calmed down.

"My cousin Ajax! You must be joking. He would rather see the world end and the seas evaporate. Ajax swam on in unknown waters, but we have since identified his odyssey. We whales have an inbuilt compass and navigate across the world's oceans without charts. If we've been to a place, the position is stored in our brains forever. After 72 nautical miles, calculated in human terms, Ajax and the old man reached the Sifnos island and switched seas to the Aegean Sea with its equally grumpy waters. They left a massive wake behind them as they went. In a small bay sheltered by the cliffs, a few old ladies were scrubbing rag rugs in the shallows.

"Wash away, you old hags, and we'll rinse," the fisherman yelled loudly. Both the women and the rugs were washed far ashore by the waves.

After three hours of bumpy travel, the cousin and the old man with his rod were in full vigour. The cousin veered slightly southward so that twenty nautical miles later, they passed the beautiful island of Folegandros at full speed. He and the fisherman had little time to enjoy the stunning views. Four hours had passed, and Ajax was living well on the tuna in his belly. The old man was managing, too. He had the bag his wife had packed for him, with coffee, sandwiches, and who knows what else. He usually had to throw most of it overboard so she wouldn't feel hurt. Today, the packed lunch came in handy. After another hundred nautical miles, they zoomed past the northern tip of Crete. The lighthouse keeper at Isodoras was forced into early retirement when he insisted that he had seen a harlequin-patterned whale towing a caique at twenty-five knots. They didn't have mobile cameras then, but a good binocular and bearing lines made the lighthouse keeper stand his ground. He could calculate and had measured twenty-five knots over five nautical miles. On that point, he wouldn't budge even half a knot."

"That's inhuman! They've been at it for seven hours. Poor your cousin. The old man has only himself to blame; he just needed to release the rod." The girl with the ripped jeans could do the math, too.

"Relax. We haven't even reached halfway," said the false Orca, swallowing yet another handful of sardines that the girl with the frayed skirt tossed to him.

"It's almost unbearable to listen to your story!" The girl in the frayed skirt stuffed potato salad into her mouth and washed it down with Cola Zero.

"I can be interrupted at any time," said the false Orca.

"Oh no!!" the girls shouted in unison.

"The old man screamed and raged, and the cousin learned many new words along the way." The false Orca imitated some of them, to the girls' delight.

"You damn sea beast, know that I am not made to be defeated," the old man roared. "I may be destroyed, but I will never be defeated, you Malakas!"

"Hope the poor cousin could shut his ears to avoid hearing all the bad words," said the girl with the frayed skirt.

"We can close one ear, but the cousin wanted to expand his vocabulary. From then on, there was nothing between Crete and Africa; there was just open sea and occasional ships. After nightfall, only the half-moon provided lighting. My cousin didn't care about that. His internal navigation system had full control; he was heading to a place he knew existed but had never been. Our family has an unbroken tradition of ancient destinations where ancestors swam. I found it directly when I came down from my distant star."

"That's how migratory birds find Hydra on their way to and from Africa in the south and Scandinavia in the north." The girl with the ripped jeans wanted to outdo her friend. "That's how many species keep track of breeding grounds, even if they are on the other side of the globe and can pass the information on to their offspring. It's fantastic because I've never learned to navigate without asking for directions or buying a map. Yes, nowadays, there's GPS."

"The eel finds its way to the Sargasso Sea, and my cousin, and I, for that matter, if it ever became relevant, would find our way to what you call Alexandria. Once upon a time, an ancestor was after that, a gigantic tower collapsed, creating one of the best fishing grounds in the Mediterranean, a paradise for everything from tiny plankton and other small creatures to larger fish. Everyone thrived in the collapsed giant tower's ecosystem, benefiting those living in the water."

"The Lighthouse of Pharos," said the girl in the frayed skirt, not wanting to be outdone by her friend. "One of the seven wonders of the world."

"My cousin's tactic was to wear out the old man; sooner or later, the human would have to give up. If not sooner than where the ancestors had been. According to the traditional description, Ajax would make a U-turn there, almost a skidding stop, and the old man would land with the boat and everything on the shore. Then, if not before, the cousin would get rid of the one holding onto the catch in his belly. But there were still many hours left of human time. Since rumours in the cosmos, like light, reach everyone who wants to hear them, the light from the star Earendel, where I live, has travelled 28 billion light-years before it reaches you on Earth. Therefore, I know a lot of what buzzes around in space, such as a first officer on a ship this night seeing on his radar how two smaller boats were chasing each other across the Mediterranean in the pitch-black night. Only a few ships could do 25 knots over open water, much less a small boat chasing another only slightly larger. The officer had called the captain to the bridge so that there were two who saw the oddity. The logbook described it as two UFO-like objects on the radar two hundred nautical miles from the nearest coast."

"Your story makes me think the fisherman must have committed some terrible crime and was punished by God, as priests threaten schoolchildren. And the punishments accordingly." The girl with the ripped jeans curled up as if she were the one to be punished.

"The old man screamed that it must be God who paired him with that damned fish. To sentence a poor fisherman to a punishment worse than keel hauling."

"What is that?" asked the girl with the holes in her jeans, having missed something.
"Between the mid-1600s and the mid-1800s, one of the worst punishments a sailor could receive was keel hauling. As the name suggests, it involved throwing someone over one side of the ship tied with ropes on one hand and one foot and dragging him underneath the ship to the other side. Most died from the punishment."

"Do the horrors never end?" asked the girl in the frayed skirt.

"Just about to, because nature takes its course," said the false Orca to keep the girls on edge a little longer.

"So, the old man gave up in the end," said the girl in the frayed skirt, confident in her assertion.

"Neither my cousin nor the old fisherman were involved; nature fixed it." The false Orca dragged out the ending even though he eagerly awaited his reward.

"So, say it then," said the girl in the frayed skirt, throwing him another handful of shrimp treats.

It had been just over twenty-one hours since the cousin had devoured the two tunas; his digestion had provided energy for the swim across the Mediterranean, but now the fuel was running out, and the carcass of the smaller tuna was almost disintegrated; only a piece of the neck and the head remained, mainly consisting of bones. At dawn, just outside the new library of Alexandria, the head separated from the rest of the body and shot backwards through the oesophagus and throat and out through the mouth that the cousin opened in sheer surprise. The fisherman's old boat abruptly stopped in a wave, and the rod sprang back and hit the wheelhouse with a thud. The old man reeled in the line with a half-dissolved fish head still on the hook.

The somewhat worn-out fisherman had kept his rod, and neither of the gentlemen had lost face. Now that the prestige was gone, the opponents, unlike Santiago and his shark-ravaged marlin, could meet as friends.

False orcas are so friendly that they've even been known to offer food to human divers, so why not a return ticket? Playful and social, these large dolphins enjoy hanging out with other species, including bottlenose dolphins and an old fisherman.

The old man had a fine rod and an American Express card. With its help, he ordered a fish meal to be brought down to the boat for himself and his new friend, Ajax, the False Orca. They ate their way through Alexandria's top fish restaurants for three days before the fisherman hitched a ride with my cousin back to Aegina, where they had met. This time, cousin Ajax slowed down somewhat, not much because the old man had gotten a taste for speed and bought Hydra's fastest fishing boat upon his return, but that's another story," said the false Orca and munched on his reward.

"A year ago on my water planet, the Old Fisherman and my cousin Ajax met for the first time since they parted ways off the coast of Aegina. As Time-travellers, they could converse with each other, and after a long life on Earth, they transformed into much wiser beings. They shared a couple of beers imported from Greece via a wormhole courier; my cousin nowadays is not as restrictive with alcohol. In the background was the gentle sound of waves, and they enjoyed their shared memories of this planet, which had only water, rocks, and sandy beaches but without humans, only aquatic animals," continued the false Orca after having devoured the delicacies and licking its lips.

"The Old Fisherman: (savouring his beer, his gaze filled with admiration and respect as he looks at the false Orca) I never thought I'd see the day I'd share a drink with my worthy opponent. You fought with a grace that I can only admire, my friend.

Ajax: (nodding gracefully, his deep voice resonating like the ocean) Thank you, old man. You, too, showed great skill and determination. I felt your respect with every pull of the line.

The Old Fisherman: (smiling wistfully) You were magnificent out there, dancing in the water. It was a battle for the ages, a dance of life and death. And what a trip you gave me. I felt a kinship with you, almost like you were a part of me.

Ajax: (looking out to the sea) The ocean binds us all, my dearest old fisherman. We are both creatures of its depths, driven by survival and the need to prove ourselves. I could feel your respect, struggle, and love for the sea.

The Old Fisherman: (nodding) the sea was everything to me. Fishing killed me but kept me alive. It gave and took. Every day out there was a gift, even when challenging. I've seen many fish, but none like you. You made me feel alive and tested me like no other.

Ajax: (smiling gently) I'm not a fish but a false orca, a creature that shares the beauty and power of the Orca but not its aggression. We gave each other a purpose. I swam with all my strength, not just to survive but to show you my spirit. I could sense your admiration, and it gave me strength.

The Old Fisherman: (taking another sip) It's strange, right? How we can respect and admire what we must ultimately want to destroy. It's the way of the world, I suppose. But it doesn't make it any easier.

Ajax: (nodding slowly) True. Our struggle had the honour, even if there was no clear winner. The ocean teaches fish and man that every moment is fleeting, and every victory and defeat is just a part of the cycle.

The Old Fisherman: (sighing) I've lost much but gained something, too. Understanding, maybe. A deeper connection to the sea and its creatures. You taught me that, old friend. You taught me that there is more to the sea than just its bounty; it is a world of its own, with its own rules and beauty.

Ajax: (gazing at the old fisherman) And you taught me that there is a profound dignity even in the face of death. Our battle was one of respect and mutual acknowledgement. We both gave everything we had and in the end, we emerged victorious.

The Old Fisherman: (raising his beer) To the sea! To the battles fought and the respect earned. To you, my brother of the sea.

Ajax: (raising a fin in a toast) To the sea, old fisherman. And to the unspoken bond between us, a bond forged in the ocean's depths, tested in the heat of battle and strengthened by our mutual respect. May it guide you in your journeys in eternity.

They clinked their drinks together, sharing a moment of silent understanding. The bright and blue sun dipped below the horizon, casting a silvery glow over the water, and for a moment, all was peaceful. The sea, their shared battlefield, seemed to hold its breath as if in reverence to the bond they had formed."

All good things come to an end, and so did the girls' delicacies, and it was time for the false killer whale to move on. Feeling sluggish from all the food, Ajax decided not to cause a commotion with any pirouettes in Hydra's harbour. Instead, he swam back to Aegina to be with his cousins. As mentioned, false killer whales are very family-oriented.

The False Killer Whale is a fast, agile swimmer, peak predator, and highly intelligent and social animal. Its name arises from the similarities between orcas and the False Killer Whale, often called False Orcas.

False Orcas are rare in Greek Seas. They are an Odontocete species that resembles dolphins but is much larger than the other dolphins that live in Greek waters. As their name suggests, they look like Killer whales.
One intriguing similarity between Killer whales and False Orcas is their predatory nature towards smaller marine mammals. However, the False Orca, despite its sharp teeth, relies less on them for hunting marine mammals like seals and dolphins. Its preferred food source is tuna fish.

False Orcas are predominantly found in the marine areas of Cyprus and Israel, making sightings of these majestic creatures in Greece sporadic and memorable.

One of the most noticeable differences between False Orcas and killer whales is their size. False Orcas are larger than killer whales, with males reaching lengths of up to 6 meters and weighing up to 1500 kilos. They can dive up to 1000 m and swim up to 45 km/h. Their IQ is equivalent to that of a 15—or 16-year-old human.

For the past 18 months, orcas have been attacking boats and yachts in the Mediterranean Sea near the Strait of Gibraltar. With three boats sunk and over 100 others damaged in Iberia, scientists think this behaviour may come from one such "grandmother" orca named White Gladis. The thought is that she may have survived a traumatic event earlier in life involving a boat and has since taught her pod how to attack them. It's also possible that these attacks are timed with Atlantic bluefin tuna (Thunnus thynnus) migrations, and the orcas perceive boats as competition for food.

Of course, humans are not necessarily innocent victims in these orca hit-and-runs, as boats cause noise pollution and other hazards for the creatures and other marine life. Regardless, how exactly did an orca in the North Sea learn this seemingly isolated behaviour from 2,000 miles away? Some scientists think that highly mobile pods could teach these boat-destroying tricks to individuals in other pods.

The thought is that she may have survived a traumatic event earlier in life involving a boat and has since taught her pod how to attack them. It's also possible that these attacks are timed with Atlantic bluefin tuna (Thunnus thynnus) migrations, and the orcas perceive boats as competition for food.

So, will Orcas always be on the hunt for boats and yachts of all shapes and sizes? Well, not necessarily. As seemingly effortless as it was for the orcas to pick up this hunting trick, it's possible that this "cultural evolution" will disappear just as rapidly.

In that context, we are naturally talking about naughty Killer Whales, not the much gentler False Orcas.