Swimming with Dolphins, Bay of Islands
By Amelia Norman
Eleven pairs of eyes scan the ocean in baited silence.
“Even if you think you see one, call out. We’d rather stop for a piece of driftwood or seaweed than miss a dolphin,” says our Dolphin Adventure skipper Tammy.
We’re well out in amongst the Bay of Islands now. It’s early morning and the wind is brisk. The sun is lurking behind a screen of white cloud, peeking playfully out from time to time.
As we cruise, searching for dolphins, the dark choppy waves play tricks on my eyes. There: a fin? No, just a wave. Is that a tail? No, another wave. Something just moved over there! Oh wait, it’s a bottle, bobbing in the current.
Hopes aren’t high: six of my fellow passengers were here yesterday and didn’t see a thing. Today they’ve returned for the free trip offered by Fullers Bay of Islands to any of its Dolphin Adventure customers that don’t get to see a dolphin.
“There have been reports of Orca in the area in the past few days,” explains Tammy. “This usually means the dolphins will disappear until the Orca are well gone.”
With glum faces we wrap our towels around us to ward off the increasing wind and growing goosebumps.
But then Tammy’s radio fizzles to life: “We’ve seen some,” comes the voice of a friendly nearby skipper. Tammy powers up the engine, executes a quick U-turn and we speed off towards the other boat. Suddenly everyone’s sitting upright, towels abandoned and goosebumps forgotten. We’re craning our necks, flicking expectant faces from side to side. The air is alive with anticipation. We slow to a bubbling crawl and circle the area…
We wait…
We look…
Nothing.
Shoulders slump.
“It’s ok,” Tammy reassures us. “They’re in the area, but might just be a bit timid because of those Orca.
“We’ll keep looking.”
I suddenly realise that with my eyes glued to the rippling water I’m missing the spectacular scenery all around us. The glorious Bay of Islands is now bathed in sparkling morning sunshine. We cruise past tiny islands: clusters of green bush rising out of the sea beneath circles of soaring birds.
Sitting cross-legged at the bow of the speeding boat I get a prime view of our surroundings. The freezing wind screams past my face. We suddenly change direction and I look back to see Tammy speaking into her radio again. We roar past golden-headed cormorants bobbing on the sea.
Our boat – Tutunui (Maori for ‘big play’) – is purpose built for cruising amongst dolphins and other marine life. The jet-propelled vessel has no propeller, meaning dolphins or birds (or, indeed, people) coming close to the boat aren’t in danger of being harmed.
A small sailing boat comes into view and as we get nearer I see the smiling skipper. He looks at us and points to the glassy green water.
“There! Dolphins!” cries someone from our boat. We stampede to the bow. A pod of sleek bottlenose dolphins are playfully following the smaller ship, diving and frolicking just below the ocean’s clear surface.
They zoom through the water, playing a teasing game of hide and seek with us. Even over our racket we can hear them squeaking and clicking in their strangely familiar dolphin language.
Tammy leans over the railings and calls to them – a series of high-pitched whistles and squeals. She claps her hands and clicks her tongue and calls to her favourite: Bad Jelly, who promptly appears alongside the boat. Speeding through the water she looks up at Tammy with one small round eye. Bad Jelly’s so close I can see the scratches and scars on her sleek grey body. I can see the movement of her muscles as she propels herself along with her strong tail. She zooms away and in her place comes a long, grey mother dolphin, suckling her baby as they career through the ocean at top speed.
Before long, other boats arrive. The dolphins revel in the attention, giving somersaults and splashes to the noisiest spectators. Tammy spots another pod and we speed off towards them.
Lying on the bow we push our heads beneath the boat’s front railings and hang over the water, calling and whistling to the dolphins below. Suddenly, one appears directly below me. He swims along on his side, keeping pace with the boat and peering up at me intently with his dark, round eye. We stare at each other, both whistling and clicking in an attempt to communicate. I laugh and he spins around, rises up out of the water and sprays my face with his glistening blowhole before darting out of sight.
“Alright guys, suit up!” calls Tammy. Madly we all dash about, fitting wetsuits and flippers, goggles and snorkels. We perch on the back of the boat, waiting for Tammy’s instruction….
“Go! Go! Go!” she cries. We slide clumsily, one by one into the deep choppy water. Heads down, eyes wide, we splash through the ocean towards the dolphins. They come hurtling towards us – slicing easily, elegantly through the water. For a second I’m surrounded – one dolphin on either side and one far below me. They’re so close I could reach out and touch their long grey bodies. They eye me beadily as they shoot by. Then they’re gone.
I pop my head up, looking frantically around, and see a field of fluorescent snorkels from which flies a hubbub of high-pitched squeals: my fellow passengers trying to coax the dolphins with their best ‘dolphin speak’. Plunging my face back into the cold water I spot the dolphins far, far away.
Tammy calls us back and we clamber awkwardly on board. Before long we’re jumping in again, splashing madly over to the dolphins before they disappear once more.
On board the cold wind rushes through our ocean-soaked hair and wetsuits but nobody notices. The excitement is palpable as we share dolphin encounter stories, photos and exclamations.
A stop on Urupukapuka Island – the largest island in the area – provides warm showers, a hot drink and a seat in the sun before we zoom back to Paihia, warm and happy.
Amelia experienced the Dolphin Adventure – Swim with the Dolphins cruise courtesy of Intercity Group (NZ) Ltd.
