Dolphin Address 32
December 1, 2004
Since our nasty landing (DEA 29) we have been looking for a safer place to enter and leave the water. We found a spot on the southern leg of Pollenawatch that, at least at the higher tides, is practically perfect. It is peculiarly sheltered from incoming waves and exits into immediate deep water. Between the rocks runs a rather hidden man-wide gully that dips into the ocean. There is sufficient support on either side to safely edge in or out of the wet world.
When I prepared to test the brand new waterwing I was met with unexpected curiosity. Dusty practically positioned her beak upon the ledge, leaving me no space to jump in. Carefully I sat down and lowered my monofin.
The water was very clear and I could see the rippled rock formations and scattered millstones on the seabed. She backed away just far enough to make me feel welcome and quietly I slid in. I felt myself in the arms of gravity again and under scrutiny of a dolphin studying my transition from human into aquamorph.
The waterwing felt in my hands like wielding a mighty sword, the robust rubber sailed stainless steel bow flashing ahead, slicing through the water. Its weight was virtually annihilated by the buoyancy and the elimination of gravity by the wings trajectory properties. Its mass, however, is easily set in motion and then takes the quality of a flywheel, keeping its momentum when its course is altered with the mere touch of a finger. Dusty's response was very inspiring.
It was as if she instinctively felt a new dimension was added to the good old waterwing. Time and again she invited me to join her vertically down and there we hung head down on the sea bed, looking each other in the eye and deciding what intricate spiral we would next compose on our way back to the surface.
Sometimes she swims ahead and lets me close in. She then rolls belly up and moves right under me. This time the tables were turned as she swam above me moving on my back. I felt her confidence in mine, minding my mind in the water.
No evaluation can exceed hers nor could any exuberance but mine. We shared our very own exultant ballet in the icy Irish water in warm blooded mammalian glee.
Usually, when I go out the water, Dusty hangs around me until less then knee deep water. Never before I so much felt like the child that has to go to bed. Only the promise that there are more waterwing days to come could finally make me leave.
Jan Ploeg, Killohill, December 1th 2004
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