Dolphins

I am about to do something very daring in these strange, pandemic times: I am traveling to the tiny island of Bimini in the Bahamas for a week. I will double mask through the airports, on the plane to Ft. Lauderdale, and the charter to Bimini, and do my best to keep a six-foot distance from other travelers. Mostly, I’ll keep to myself, read a book and endure the journey until I meet up with my friend Sharon. who is joining me in Ft. Lauderdale.

But, it will be worth it to be at Wildquest again. I’ve been twice before, and it is truly a magical experience. I know that’s a cliche, but how else to describe a week on a sailboat in warm, clear, brilliant turquoise water, swimming with wild dolphins? The staff at Wildquest who captain the boat, teach the uninitiated to snorkel and dive, help those who are uneasy in the water, give massages, lead yoga, and provide wonderful meals are actually dolphins in people suits.

I am not a strong or confident swimmer; I am not a swimmer at all. I am a noodler. I can float clutching a noodle in a shallow swimming pool quite contentedly. Not for me the backstroke, the breast stroke, the high dive, the cannonball. I’ve taken many sets of swimming lessons, I’ve even worked with a hypnotist, and yet deep water (i.e., anything over five feet) terrifies me. When I first contemplated going to Bimini with a group of animal communicator friends, it seemed impossible. Swimming? Deep water? OPEN OCEAN? ME? But one of our group led a meditation with the dolphins and they said, very matter-of-factly to me, “Don’t worry, we’ll keep you safe.” I was filled with a sense of peace, calm and belief: of course the dolphins would keep me safe.

And in fact, they did. Imagine me, the non-swimmer, clutching my noodle in the clear turquoise (I’ll never stop being astonished by that color) ocean water, watching wild dolphins swim around me, snorkeling with them while a Wildquest staffer pulled me along by my noodle. Not once did I panic, cry, freak out or experience any feelings of terror. Compare that to the three minutes I was in the water on the Great Barrier Reef in my snorkel gear, completely wigging out (and confusing my poor husband, who thought I was fine) until a staffer on that boat recognized my flailing and hooting through the snorkel as panic, and helped me back onto the boat. Lovely, kind people on that boat, but not dolphins in people suits.

I can’t wait to share this experience with my friend. There are only ten of us on the trip this time, about half of whom haven’t been before. I expect we will bond quickly as a ‘pod’ and the week will unfold with surprises, magic, and bliss. I’m ready, and I know the dolphins will keep me safe.