A day at sea and once again we encounter an abundance of life. In the distance there are birds soaring, swooping, and diving into the water. With a slight change of course and a growing closeness we all begin to see shining dark shapes hurl themselves from the sea, momentarily suspended in the air before splashing into a white foam. Dolphins! Dolphins chasing fish. Birds chasing dolphins, knowing there were fish. We pass flocks of shearwaters, heavy with food, unable or unwilling to take to the air; instead they skitter across the calm surface of the sea.
The dolphins must have smiled when they heard us approach for they broke off from their hunt, in pairs and packs, to play a new game, "ride the wave." Even the sleekest of vessels does not "cut the water", rather it pushes its way through the sea and it's this push that the dolphins so enjoy. Under our bow they glide beneath the water with little effort, jump and plunge, twist and turn. Sometimes they ride their side and look up at us; they look with one eye and with what, curiosity, invitation? How smart and strong and competent these creatures appear, even without thumbs or chins, arms or legs -- so different from fish.
There was more than one species: common dolphin, dusky dolphin, and perhaps others. They play together, they hunt together. What else do they do? We can only guess and watch until they grow tired of the game and move away, so close, yet so far away.
