The other day and by chance I was an earwitness to a conversation between a Canadian tourist and an Inisheer local. The Canadian asked: ‘What do you do on the island?’ The answer: ‘As little as possible’.
And that sums it up. Stress seems to be an alien concept here. No need to avoid something that doesn’t exist. Unless you make it yourself. Like when already in the water I couldn’t get my heel into the foot pocket of the monofin and simultaneously my weight belt was falling down, which took so much of my attention that the waterwing drifted away and I couldn’t find it back at my wits’ end. After a desperate half hour of neck stretching and pulling myself up from moored rowing boats I got a friendly boater to retrieve it.
Suddenly Dusty appeared in a sharp curve. Immediately I began in Emo lingo. That is based on Dutch, because in that by nature I can better express my emotions, but I also use tongue rolls and pneumatic acousticals, sometimes together with squeaking my mask rubber, producing cracking, creaking and other mystical sounds. And under water everything resonates altered, more voluminous, as from a better speaker.
Dolphins have lived here 50 million years before us and in tight social bonds. With their sonar they can observe each other as transparent which clues into their emotions. And that may well be one of the chief reasons for Dusty’s interest in humans. She doesn’t need us for food or security and neither are we any match for her in speed. But she is ever so curious, and she likes to be cuddled and to play. In this proximity she may well access our emotions.
Up until recently I used to stroke her with a featherlight fingertip touch. But since I trail my nails into her skin dust, like I scratch myself when itchy, she has rekindled her affection for me. We used to have 30 second cuddles, now it’s more like five minutes.
Dolphins continually shed their skin and areas that have clogged up are easy to locate by touch as they feel a bit rougher. Apparently in swimming the water does not rush as much between her pectoral fins as to brush the ‘dandruff’ off as she easily goes belly up to have her chest scratched.
Actually that became a bit of a problem. Dusty began cutting my swimming with a narrowing spiral in order to get groomed. Of course I would, lovingly, but not forever. And she wanted ever more. I had to devise ways to gently let her know when enough was enough. So after a while I would give her a few taps, or hold my hand still upon her. For years, when she swam by, I let my hand glide along her peduncle and switched side as a signature byebye. So now I swum towards her fluke to signal the end of the cuddle.
Diving down can result in wonderful tandem swims. Sometimes she’d come from underneath me, slowly heading for the surface and me accelerating above her to keep her under. She rolls on her side not to hit me with her dorsal fin, but I always lose in the end. We tease each other for fun.
But lately Dusty’s behaviour towards me has changed. I see her a lot swimming close to the bottom and just the last swim she did come near me, but avoided being touched at all. I thought she had been seriously abused again, but Trevor told me she was even more affectionate as ever with him. Would she have felt a trace of reluctance in me, had I offended her, would this be permanent or is she just playing hard to get? Feels as if she hung me off a cliff…