August 3rd
Yesterday, I was sitting at the helm, doodling in my notebook, glancing over to the table where Mark and Jenn were in the middle of yet another game of rummy with a side of entertaining commentary. I scanned the table where their hands were placed, then shifted my gaze to the horizon, and hollered “C’mon whales!” …
The previous night during Mark’s specialty clam-pasta dinner, Jenn had mentioned how she hopes we will see whales soon.
“We will,” I said, “they’re coming tomorrow at 5.”
“They RSVP’d?” She responded.
“Yes.”
And surely enough, 10 minutes before 18:00, and seconds after deliberately “summoning” them… dolphins!!! Maybe dolphins, not whales, and of course they were fashionably late, but nonetheless…
Grey fins broke the surface and like torpedoes, about 20 bounded to our bow. We could make out their bodies deep below the surface, their white sides and bellies tinted a light teal, and visible from at least 50 yards from the boat. We noted the many white jellyfish that floated by… Dinner time! Shout out to the ocean for providing for our playful guests. And if you didn’t know dolphins were party animals… Well, that’s not the last we would see of them tonight.
Night fell notably earlier than the ones previous, marking the many miles we have sailed east and our silent approach to another time change. As the sun disappeared, a dark, electric blue consumed the world. I sat outside as my 6-8 watch came to an end and wished the world goodnight with gratitude for another day of calm seas and gentle, quiet sailing. The only sounds were the light splash of our breaking wake, followed by the hissing of foam, laced with a whisper, a reminder. The steady slow moving ocean, welcoming us to slow down and stay present as we near home and the hustle bustle of life on land. A reminder to enjoy the excitement, though it may tempt to overwhelm, of these special moments that we will soon look back on with endearment.
With a goodnight to Jenn, Mark, and the sea who remembers. I was soon cozied up in the v-berth, tucked underneath two down-blankets that I got back out not a week ago, I closed my eyes and waited for sleep to consume me. Right before I could drift off into my dream-realm, a high pitch squeak had me peeling my eyes open.
I listened for a few moments, and it didn't let up. With the forward hatch cracked open, I poked my head outside to check if it was the rigging, otherwise… Illuminated in the dark waves, fins once again broke the surface by One Ocean’s bow, this time glowing.
In a heart beat, I pulled myself out of the hatch, and like shooting stars, dolphins lit up the ocean. About 20 dolphins danced at our bow, bodies outlined in vivid detail by the twinkling of bioluminescence tracking their every movement. A momma and baby weaved their way in perfect unison through the pod, and some zig zagged back and forth leaving a jet-trail like luminance wake. I managed to break myself out of their trance for a few moments to inform Mark about our sparkling guests, grab a lifejacket, and encourage him to “Go get Jenn!”
I could have watched them forever, but eventually, they disappeared back into the darkness, and the squeaking petered out, only to be heard incrementally through OO’s hull for the duration of the night. Best surprise after-party ever.
Sometimes, as you are ready for the dream world to consume you, you wake up to the ocean reminding you that your dream world is right here. The ocean brings to life magic we could only hope to experience in our dream-realm.
- Tess