I never get tired of seeing dolphins, even when it is almost a daily occurrence here on Dewees. We took our boat into town yesterday, and on the way back we were treated to a bit of breathtaking magic.
Along the ICW, just past the no wake sign headed north, we saw a fishing boat captain pull sharply left and come to a relative standstill, and we were glad to greet our old friend, fishing captain Ben Floyd, with clients. “A baby! Ben announced. “Playing!”
Right as he said that, a tiny dolphin leapt entirely out of the water, almost in slow motion. Others followed, and for half an hour or so, a whole pod played around us. The baby leaped, the adults pushed it from below, they frolicked and rolled over in the waves, shiny fins and blowing spume, watchful eyes and smiles, tails splashing, fins crashing… we were mesmerized. At one point, we looked up to see a huge yacht barreling towards us, the captain oblivious to the gift he was missing. “You okay?”, he asked, and he peered down at us from three stories above. We just gaped at him, and the dolphins were gone, deep under the surface. He moved further south, and just as suddenly, they reappeared in a rush of exhalation and splashes, and we felt special, chosen. It was incredible how slowly and deliberately they moved, nudging the baby into the air, pink belly flashing, glancing sideways, turning in circles, almost dancing.
Ben and his clients eventually move on, smiling. “You don’t see that every day!”, he calls, as he heads for the port. We wait a few more minutes, as the dolphins move almost away and then rush back again, along the side of the boat, moving too fast for the camera to focus, so close we could almost touch them. And then, calmly, they headed off toward a side creek, steadily surrounding the youngest, almost touching side-to-side.