A brutal and cold breeze is chilling up the ripples at Doolin Harbour. It's the tireless oppression of the elements that marks the quandary to either stay snugly ashore or to take to the surprisingly clear water, knowing that later, for hours, you'll be presented the bitter shivers of the après-nage.
But then she appears and all doubts are covered up in neoprene and you go, just go. And when we meet, again someone has tossed her a bottle on a string. This time only one, which is more than the usual twins, as she has to be more inventive to 'handle' it. But she does, with amazing dexterity and grace.
Though capped the pressure of the deep has pushed out most of the air and she manoeuvres it by steering her rostrum into the dent. I twist off the cap to let in air and some water. Right so, at least now I can throw it a good bit away as that's what she wants me to.
By the way, the videos that are linked to this and future Dolphin Addresses are taken by a camera that is built into my diving mask, so it captures everything in my field of vision. Also it leaves my hands free to handle the waterwing. I try to keep this out of frame or edit it out, but it is part and parcel of my aquatic lifestyle, so it shows from time to time. Also, the camera is located somewhat above my eyes. Therefore it also records the sloshes upon my forehead. This is virtually in editable. Better take it as a reality effect.
As if it were a tiny sand eel she pinches the string between her very front lips and tows the bottle towards me. I take the bottle, but she won't let go of the string, even when I pull it. Only when I give up she thinks she's made her point: this is my bottle and you'd better forget that you are playing with me, because I'm the one who's calling the shots and the game's on my generosity.
Which she emphasises by evenly distributing her attention between George and me. So when one of us is entertaining Her Silvership, the other shows off elaborate larks and hijinks to win her favor back. George is wearing no weight belt and swims down against the massive buoyancy of his wetsuit. When on the seabed he lets go and slowing down his ascent by increasing his water resistance he buoys up as kind of like an inverted mushroom. See, that's how you attract the attention of a dolphin! (George Karbus is a brilliant photographer.)
Then I go down, turn on my back and slow-stroking graze the kelp. Sharply silhouetted against the sun-shed surface she comes towards me. But whomever of us she obliges, it's the bottle she gravitates to time and again.
She strolls beside me at her leisure. I try to steal the bottle by raking it away with a knob of the waterwing. She rolls on her side for a safety check, stays tuned and ignores my teasery. Only when I knock it off she lets go.
I take the bottle to the bottom and until the very end of my breath. The surface extends far above me like a ceiling. When I release the bottle Dusty comes after me and intercepts it. Now I really have to hurry up. In a fizz of bubblelettes I reach the air, a miniature version of a bubble-netting Humpback whale. Whoof, now how close to Heaven's door was that!
As tiny as I feel in the arms of gravity so massive it jumps upon me when I stagger out of the water. My heart beats upon the foresight of the afterview. Seldom I walked off with so much footage. Behind me the pier people are watching the dolphin heading out, looking for the next toy boy.
Photo: Niclas Ruediger