From Kristina Curren
Jon Lien was an extraordinary man–a force of nature and larger than life–and I adored him. I remember him commenting that he’d probably seen more Sowerby’s Beaked Whales than any single individual alive or dead, and I remember running interference for him when one secretary or another called up to the Whale House in exasperation because Jon had skirted administrative rules one way or another for the hundredth time (that week). I remember how he delayed going to the hospital while having a heart attack because he didn’t want to disrupt the class he was teaching, and how he had me send up his binoculars and notebook so that he could observe and record the mating behaviour of the ducks in the pond he could see from his hospital bed. I remember coming back from days out in the zodiac covered in bruises because the water had been rough and (I swear) Jon had been doing his best to see if he could throw me out of the boat altogether.
Most of all, I remember a good-hearted, humorous, welcoming, everlastingly inquisitive, passionate, tireless, indomitable, and insanely knowledgeable man who took a chance on an unknown girl from Ontario with far more physics than biology in her background and allowed me to become his grad student. For some unknown reason, he believed in me, and he helped me to believe in myself.
Jon knew, better than anyone else I’ve ever met, how to fully experience joy in every moment and how to suck the marrow out of life. He did so much for fisherman, for the whales, for the entire province of Newfoundland and Labrador. He truly was a legend in his own time. I am honoured to have worked with and for him, and I treasure every memory I have of him.
His like will not pass our way again.
Godspeed, Jon, and rest ye well.
Kristina Curren
This post was submitted by Kristina Curren.