A rather outstanding characteristic of the dolphin is the up and down movement of the fluke. This is facilitated by the shape of the tailstock, which is narrow and therefore of limited resistance. The muscles that power the fluke are stacked. The dolphin uses the sideway effect of its flanks for steering together with the agile navigation of the pectoral fins.
In swimming the pecs hardly contribute to the forward motion. This in contradiction to the thrust I produce by pushing, tilting and heaving the waterwing. But as I cannot bend my legs sideways, steering in the horizontal plane is limited to the wing.
By the way, the surface of both my legs going up and down has a lot of resistance. I have considered possibilities to reduce this by
- holding a vertical surface between my legs inside a one legged 'trouser',
- by placing the foot pockets of my monofin above instead of beside each other or
- by inserting my right foot in the left foot pocket and vice versa.
All of these variations are clumsy, too laborious and awkward, but no harm to know.
Therefore beside propulsion together with the mono, I also use the wing for steering. While pushing, tilting and heaving it, I direct the wing sideways, simultaneously moving it at an angle, which bends me into the direction of the lower tip. Much like 'playing airplane' when you were a kid.
As Dusty has the habit of approaching from behind or, in the deep, from the most improbable and unexpected angles, I often revolve around my own vertical axis in order to spot her. Also often I ascend in a spiral, as she can be above or below me as well.
To turn around my own vertical axis I hold the wing with one hand in the middle and the other towards the tip. Thus I can exert leverage for the pushing and heaving, and so turn myself around.
This is a good way to get a feel of the magic of a waterwing and it already works with a plank (±120x12x3cm), particularly when the leading edge is rounded and the surfaces taper towards the trailing edge.
Manoeuvring I do by combining the thrust surfaces of the mono and the wing as steering surfaces. This I do for keeping up with Dusty's manoeuvres and for other abrupt changes in my trajectory. With these two relatively large control surfaces, the combined effects are infinite and I'm ever discovering new manoeuvres, inspired by the dolphin. As an expert swimmer she recognises my possibilities and likes to put me to new challenges. These are mostly hard to describe as they are within the verbal incognito of the third dimension.
Within water every action has a counter-result as well. Think of a ship, not only going forward, but also pushing water backwards at the same time. As I am not in a fixed position myself I can push the wing off of my body or push my body off of the wing in several wing angles resulting in many different movements. There are, however, a number of specific manoeuvres that are easier to imagine.
When I want to turn on my back in horizontal swimming I leave the wing in its glide and turn myself around with my hands.
When Dusty swims besides me, I hold one hand at the tip of the wing so as not to startle her. Sometimes she moves up so closer that I swim with the wing parallel to my body.
When I want to stay at the bottom for some time and there is nothing to hang on to, I position the wing with the trailing edge askew in the sand and 'anchor' myself by swimming against it.
Another way of holding down on the wing is by pushing it into a crevice and turning it stuck.
To turn back on my travel direction I move the wing into a vertical position and pull myself around from its resistance, as if it were an immobile pole.
Apart from using the wing for forward propulsion I can also use it as a breaking device. This can be pretty vital when I let myself wash up at the sloped slabs. Thus I not only prevent myself from a drastic landing, I also turn my body towards safer depths.
When swimming with the waves I can use the energy of the same wave twice. First by pushing myself off of it by the mono, then, when it has almost overtaken my body, by digging in the waterwing.
For diving down there are two basic ways. From speed, steering down, mainly propelled by the mono and by pulling myself down from the waterwing. The former speaks for itself. With the latter technique I start by holding the wing in my forward-stretched hands. Then I swing, still with stretched arms, the wing backwards past underneath me. In this I hold the wing with the trailing edge (then leading) at such an angle that I slightly lift my head and shoulders. Then I swing the wing forward under a similar, slightly steeper angle and, helped by the extra weight from the lifting, pull myself down by scooping the wing forward.
Sometimes Dusty wants to be stroked or brushed with seaweed. Then she brings it to me, but more often she leaves it into my line of swimming and is my face suddenly draped in seaweed. She likes to play 'hard to get' by moving between the limit of my touch and the stretch of my reach. Then I push myself closer by waving the wing with my other hand.
Apart from being inquisitive and playful, Dusty also likes to surprise and challenge. Humans are often quick to praise the intelligence of the dolphin and next ignore or simply fail to recognise it. For a long time I thought the flybys she often gives me were random and of no particular significance. But if you depart from the understanding that she is as smart as yourself and on top of that has the advantage of marine expertise, then you may come to see that she does nothing 'just like that', but that she lives in reason to every little thing.