崔珉

因?yàn)榘l(fā)出聲音的頻率是52赫茲，它成了世界上最孤獨(dú)的鯨魚。

He is a lone voice crying out for love in the wilderness. For years he has roamed singing unrequited songs of yearning， searching for a soul to share his solitary world. His plaintive （悲傷的） love songs have been heard by many yet he has never been seen. He is the loneliest whale in the world.

The subject of a documentary currently being filmed， the lovelorn （單相思的） mammal has been tracked by scientists since 1989 as he migrates up and down the world's largest ocean along the Pacific north-west coast of North America.

He cries out in long， low moans， his musical mating calls ringing for hours through the darkness of the deepest seas. His strong voice carries for miles through the briny， broadcasting a wide repertory （保留劇目） of heartfelt tunes.

But although he swims in waters that are populated by thousands of other whales no female ever responds because his voice is unusually high for a whale—about 52 Hertz—which is what researchers have named him.

For many lovelorn humans 52 Hertz has come to symbolise the hopeless romantic in us all. “It's very sad that so many people identify with this whale，” says marine biologist Mary Ann Daher of the Woods Hole Oceanographic Institution in Massachusetts， who co-authored theoriginal research on the discovery of 52 Hertz.

“I receive letters， emails and poems— mostly from women—and it's heartbreaking to read some of the things they say. They identify with this animal who doesn't seem to fit in anywhere， doesn't make friends easily， feels alone and feels different from everybody.”

Though 52 Hertz has never been seen many have heard his watery love songs， recorded by scientists and US navy sonar detectors. The leviathan's voice， at 52 Hertz， would sound deep to a human， similar to the lowest note on a tuba， yet is extremely high-pitched compared with most large whales， like playing a piccolo （短笛） at a Harley-Davidson rally （集會(huì)）.

Regular blue and fin whales sing at about 15 to 20 Hertz： a bone-shaking low-bass rumble below the range of normal human hearing. Even if 52 Hertz is a firm-bodied， sizzlingly sexy macho male it is apparently hard to attract the opposite sex with a high-pitched voice.

Scientists are not even certain what type of whale he is or whether he might be an unknown species on a futile quest for an equally elusive mate. His calls are shorter but more frequent than other whales， as if he speaks a language that is all his own.

“We don't know whether he sounds that way because he's a hybrid （雜交動(dòng)物） of a blue whale and a finwhale or if he's a blue whale with a physical deformity that causes him to sing at 52 Hertz，” says Daher.