
Feb 25th, 2019

After some time of watching them come,
we're at the back, ready to slide in with them, mask and snorkel on, my camera
in hand.
I should have looked after Mr E and Dad
but I didn't. I lost myself in dolphins. They swam by, clicks and squeals and
squeaks. Huge and small. The largest ones nearest to me, watching, ready to
protect their pod.
And me, not even thinking of my pod,
just off on my own, revelling in the experience. Then our time is up. Back to
the boat. Dad and Mr E don't look good, both pale, breathing hard, looking
unwell. Fuck. I should have cared, stayed with them. I help Dad up, get his
gear, ply him with water. Watch him cough and hack. More fresh water. Mr E
looks on, stoic, not wanting water, not all that happy.
The next group are in and I take some
shots, I try my best to care but I've already shown my true colours.
An opportunity to go in again. I'm there. I'm in again. Before I do, on the back, I see the couple with the small boy. The boy has not swum but his parents have. And I understand them. I feel some camaraderie.
Then I notice the lady, standing with a
beautific smile, hands cradling her stomach, a small bulge that the sun-smart
shirt sticks to. I wonder if she's pregnant but it's not something I can ask a
stranger. I ask if she's okay, if she enjoyed it. She beams. Beautific becomes
luminous. "My baby became active when the dolphins swam past." Oh, my
heart almost melted. We spoke of it, of them, of the experience, the joy.

We go in again, and again. Again and
again. Maybe 6 times. Each time is different, exciting, incredible. I talk, I
roll, I swim, I follow, I twist and turn, kick and crawl, but there is no way
to keep up with them. I watch them glide past, tails pulsing, as I lumber
almost unmoving compared with them.
In an interlude I spot fish, inquisitive
fellows who came swimming right up to me, posing for my shot. I snap weed and
jellyfish, patterns in the sand, the boat and the boat's movement.


They're huge. Solid, big, grey, some
stick to shadows, lurking at the edges of the pod. Once I looked closely, a
shark or a dolphin? But I felt no fear, just a burning curiosity and a feeling
of belonging...and not belonging at all.
When it was time to go, we took off
with some speed and the dolphins were there, they knew, it was playtime. They
rode the waves, leaping from the water, joyous, exuberant, showing off their
skills. It was the most incredible way to end the trip. A buoyant, exuberance
for all.
A deeply moving day, because of the incredible experience the lady with her baby shared with us. The joy of seeing her face, her
hands cradling the new life inside, the care of her little boy.

I don't think I'll ever forget this
experience.
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