From the latest show by Serial to the tale of a UFO sighting in regional Queensland, four great new podcasts to get your ears around

It's smack in the middle of summer and with many long, hot days likely stretching ahead of us, it's important to have activities. 

Whether you're enduring the unrelenting heat by lying sloth-like under the air-conditioning with the blinds closed, or hitting the road with the windows down and the ocean on the horizon, a good podcast could be the perfect thing. 

Of course, you have the iconic Triple J Hottest 100 countdown to listen to. But once that's over, or once you're hour three into the drive and need a little more narrative to keep you awake, we've got some captivating new podcast options for you.

So sit (or lie) back and let these stories transport, tickle and tantalise you.

The Good Whale 

Serial Productions and New York Times Audio

The poster image of Free Willy soaring over the ocean wall is indelibly cemented in the brains of those of us who grew up in the 90s.

Willy was played by Keiko, whose stint on the big screen was a brief holiday from his home tank at Reino Aventura water park in Mexico City.

Plucked from the ocean near Iceland when he was very young, Keiko was a life-long entertainer, beloved by Mexican children country-wide, and by the devoted team looking after him in less-than-ideal surroundings.

Speaking to a range of people who were involved at the time, the podcast takes us to Mexico where Keiko has fallen sick upon his return — partly due to a tank that is too small and shallow. The rest of the world gets involved, determined not to let their favourite cetacean movie star die. Warner Bros is hounded to take action for the star that made them so much money, and animal rights activists and marine park lobbyists see their opportunity.

Warner Bros and the International Marine Mammal Project formed The Free Willy-Keiko Foundation in 1995, with wealthy whale fans footing a US$3 million bill to transport Keiko to a specially built tank, where he could recover and learn the skills he needs to return to the wild. This is overseen by an exhaustive list of global scientists.

The stakes feel high. If Keiko thrives, it would be a sign that nature can recover from humans' cruelty — that the damage we've wrought can be undone.

But how can you take an animal that's been living in captivity for 20 years and make it wild again? Is it possible? Is it harmful?

Without the ability to interview Keiko himself, it's impossible to know what was best for the whale. But this co-pro from Serial Productions and New York Times, delicately hosted by Daniel Alarcón, dives into the messy grey of it, forcing you to question what we owe Keiko and others like him — innocent creatures caught up in the cruel, human games of money, politics and power.

Because the Boss Belongs to Us 

I Heart Radio

Bruce Springsteen is the All-American everyman rock star, draped in leather and the star-spangled banner. Or, if you're podcast hosts Jesse Lawson and Holly Cassio, he's the quintessential queer icon.

The British duo are both die-hard Bruce fans: Cassio created the Me and Bruce zine series, and is releasing a graphic novel called Looking for Bruce; Lawson performs under the drag persona, Butch Springsteen. They see themselves in his poetic lyrics about being stifled by a community that doesn't understand you, in the wailing emotion of his voice, and his often flamboyant looks.

Over seven eps, the pair embark on a scientific study into what makes a queer icon, and whether The Boss fits into that category. One fascinating episode focuses entirely on his outfits; another assesses which Bruce song is best for your sex playlist. They also grapple with the discomfort of valorising a cis, straight billionaire, and query why the queer community loves creating heroes from mainstream culture. But, in the end, will a panel of their queer peers accept their findings?

This is a sweet, silly, tender and very gay pod that's perfect for Bruce stans and newbies alike. The diehards will probably get a lot out of the in-depth exploration of his music, and everyone else will come away with a new fave Springsteen song. Excuse me, just queuing up 'Dancing in the Dark'.

Uncropped 

Expanse, ABC iview

Tully — a town of 2,368 people in far north Queensland — is best known for being wet.

In fact, it proudly claims to be the wettest town in Australia (something fiercely contested by nearby Babinda), and has a Golden Gumboot standing at almost 8 metres tall in the town centre to illustrate the point.

But in 1966, tiny Tully briefly became known for something else: a UFO sighting.

As ABC reporter Danielle O'Neal tells us, a young banana farmer by the name of George Pedley spotted a large flying object in the sky that he couldn't explain, that haunted him. Later, reeds in a remote lagoon on the property were found to be woven into a large, perfectly round circle.

The media circus quickly enticed droves of eager visitors to the remote area. More saucer nests, as the locals and the media called them at the time, started to appear. Suddenly the farmer was plunged headfirst into the wildly turbulent global debate around UFOs.

O'Neal heads out to Tully and speaks with locals who were just children at the time of George's sighting, including a boy who lived on the property. She dives into Australian government UFO files to look at previous attitudes around UFOs, and how they're changing now. She even heads to the US Congress after their first hearing on UFOs in more than 50 years.

This isn't a whacky aliens-are-among-us story — or not just that, anyway. It's really about the way we consider truth, the way that uncertainty plagues people, and the way we react, and treat each other, in the face of things we can't explain.

Filled with the music of cicadas in dry paddocks and broad Australian accents, Expanse is a compelling, tenderly told story that is perfect for long drives through remote places.

Hang Up  

Radiotopia

Do you love dating shows but wish they were more silly, less mean, more queer, less obsessed with matrimony? That's where Hang Up comes in.

Hosted by the inimitable and immediately lovable Zakiya Gibbons, one "Star" goes through a series of phone dates with six prospective love interests. They never see each other, use cute pseudonyms and can't describe how they look right away. It's all about the chat, and listeners are privy to the flirty, awkward, sexy, funny, sweet mess of it.

It's a surprisingly captivating formula. The Stars of both seasons so far have been queer, and there have been callers of all genders putting their hearts on the lines. In one episode they each send the Star a box containing special personal items for a first date. In another they talk in detail about sex and what they're into. There are (sometimes painful) group dates, and the callers are assessed by a loved one of the Star. And each week, the Star chooses one person to hang up on and eliminate from the show.

Oh, and did I mention the twist? The final caller standing gets their own choice: take an all-expenses paid romantic holiday with the Star; or hang up and take home USD$1,000.

It's pretty standard dating-show stuff, but everyone is a sweet perfect angel who you fall in love with — even the ones you want to hang up on.

As a queer dating show, there are a lot of very in-depth conversations about gender identity, strained family relationships, trauma, previous loves and polyamory. There are also lots of giggles and cheek-blushing sweet moments.

Hang Up offers some unique perspectives on modern love; it's also a dating show that doesn't make you hate yourself.