The other day, Dusty and I were Dyping (a beta version of Skype), when she had a brilliant idea. We chattered a bit about the summers days, and how they were more than than just lovely and temperate if not wild and mysterious as for real. And she was like, can’t you show me those last two videos?

At the end of July, this summer, on Inisheer a French film crew from ‘Mona Lisa’ shot a documentary of Dusty and me for TV station Arte under the direction of Stephane Granzotto. At this occasion Stephane gave me a selection of photos that he made on the Mediterranean Sea and granted me permission to share them on Dolphin Address.

There’s a new kid in town, that is, at Inisheer! And a kid indeed, estimated to be 6 years old, supposedly from France, definitely from England and lastly residing at County Cork. The very first question has to be asked yet: How on earth did they find each other?!

‘Sie ist so Suess, sooo Suess, so Sueees…’, with the elusive insisted upon in repetition, brimming over, summing up all the wonderfullies of the moment, beyond straight reasoning.

Though I fancy to describe myself as a passionate soul, it takes an ocean to cool me, I express my affection in tenderness rather than exhilaration.

I still find it hard to believe. A Facebook freediving friend of mine, Eric van Riet Paap, whom I only met once, last year in Doolin, has been harping on his mighty strings, resulting in taking my breath away with the crème de la crème, the state-of-the art, the flagship dancing dolphin in monofin waterscape, a genuine TRYGONS carbon fibre lightweight! For free!!

Through the years I’ve often been asked how you can attract the attention of the dolphin. To most people seeing her up close is enough. Dusty has little trust in people standing waist-deep in the water. Would you trust someone who doesn’t trust you?

The white 'Rose of Aran' is ploughing a sparkling wake under a patch of sunlight moving swiftly across the distant slope of the 'Slieve Elva'. I'm leaning comfy in my rock recline near the slipway of Inisheer. A few crows are checking the cracks for edible wash-ups.

As the blasting was announced for eight o'clock I hurried from a half-eaten plate of chips to Marteens shed, where I kept my gear, pre-wet by a generous splash of rain.

Initially I wasn't too happy about Dusty having moved to Inis Oírr, but the trips to and fro on the ferries have proven to be most enjoyable. The waterwing and the monofin serve as excellent tickets to conversation and when I'm not chatting away with my fellow travelers, the restless ocean is providing the feeling of freedom and adventure I so love from the meadow. And then there's always the fluke to see dolphins…

I have been self employed,  running courses in spiritual & personal development for 2 decades now. On the morning of an Abundance course I was running I received a cheque for £4000 completely 'out the blue'. (My techniques obviously work! ;-))

From the 'end of the pier' I see a surfer at the Crab wipe-out in a roaring breath of outrageous foam, towering over the ocean's silvery blue.

(This is part two. For part one go to the 'Dutch Edition' of nr. 3, which is also in English. Sorry for the inconvenience.) Clare's think tank has yielded abundant results, but Dusty's perspective has not been taken into account, yet. So we managed to scoop an all exclusive interview from right under the nose of the Tuesday Independent.

The last was a daytime storm and I so much finally wanted to see the live violence that before mostly had been under cover of the night. But internet pics of blown over trucks made me hesitate and so did the tiles that rattled on my roof.

When the sun shines, waves like tapestries are unrolling into blinding foam gardens. Froth flakes whirl up from saturated gatherings, flights of marine butterflies, dancing.