Dear Fellow Diver,
The call came at 7 p.m. The Dolphin Dream had been
steaming for hours. The sun was low, and two of the guests
had already cracked open beers, having given up on a dolphins
interaction that day. The rest of us assembled on
the dive deck, donned our fins, snorkels, and masks, ready
to make our giant stride. Six Atlantic spotted dolphins
swam off the stern, waiting for us to join them.
The water was a deep shade of blue, the sandy bottom
only 30 feet deep. As with most of our evening encounters,
the dolphins were more energetic and playful than they had
been during the morning. They chased and playfully nipped
at each other and at the fins of the free divers. Whenever
I thought they had left, one would suddenly zoom past me,
quickly followed by others. I was struck by how close they
came to me without making contact. Occasionally one would
burrow its beak into the sand, searching for a bottom
dweller, before returning to play. It was getting dark,
and from the bridge, Captain Scott indicated it was time
to for us to board. We had been in the water for more than
30 minutes.
The beer drinkers
should have had
more confidence in
the Captain's ability
to locate the
dolphins. Captain
Wayne 'Scott' Smith
has been leading dolphin
charters in the
Bahamas for more than
37 years. Although we
swam with bottlenose
dolphins, it was the
friendlier Atlantic
spotted dolphins
that we sought.
About 80 of them reside in 60 square miles of
the northwestern Great Bahama Bank. They can be
identified by the spotting patterns developed
as they age and by scars from shark attacks and
boat injuries. In a book he co-authored, "Dolphin
Tales, True Stories of the Atlantic Spotted
Dolphins," Captain Scott related his adventures
with those he has befriended over the years.
The silverback of Bahamian dolphin diving, Scott
indeed has a loyal following. Most of my fellow
guests -- six Americans, three Japanese, and a
German -- had been on his boat several times. One
woman who has been coming annually for 22 years
could only recall three days when Captain Scott
failed to deliver his customers to the dolphins.
Riory and Zack, young and friendly deckhands, and
Heidi, the chatty and skilled chef, completed the
crew.
I boarded the 12-passenger Dolphin Dream on a Saturday afternoon in June at
Riviera Beach Marina, just north of Palm Beach, Florida. After a perfunctory safety
briefing and dinner, we departed. Scott purchased the former shrimp trawler in
2005 to replace its smaller predecessor so he could operate year-round, mostly with
shark diving trips, but with some dolphin trips. It's 85-foot length and a 35-foot
width assured a smooth ride.
I was given one of the six small lower deck windowless double-bunk cabins, the
doorway covered only by a curtain. At 5'7", I could barely stand upright. Getting
into and out of my bunk gracefully required a level of dexterity I did not possess. Each bunk has a reading light, power sockets, and vent openings, a couple
of shelves for storage, and two towels per person. During the trip, the cabins
were not serviced. While there was a storage area in the hallway, one bag was left
blocking access to the emergency escape hatch -- not a wise idea. Two roomy communal
heads, each with a shower and a basin, were kept clean, and I rarely had to
wait to use one.
Opposite the galley, fitted into a wall counter, a fridge was stocked with
free beer and soft drinks, and there was an ice machine. Coffee and hot water were
available round the clock. The salon featured two L-shaped upholstered benches,
each set around a triangular table, as well as a TV, DVD, and stereo, which no one
bothered to turn on. A picnic table and a freezer top doubled as camera tables. Steps led down to the dive platform, almost at the water line, and a well-designed
ladder allowed easy ascent from the water even without removing fins. On the opposite
side of the stern deck, stairs led up to the large, partly covered sun deck.
Smokers used the small stern deck.
After breakfast on our second day at sea, we steamed from our anchored location,
soon encountering dolphins, seven of which lined up on the surface off the
stern, waiting for us. Four expert freedivers, one a former Japanese champion, executed
deep spins and loops, captivating the dolphins for minutes on a single breath
of air, lengthening our interactions. When necessary, Riory, aboard an underwater scooter, steered the dolphins back. He
would shoot down to the bottom, then spiral
upward, often drawing one or more dolphins
with him. When the dolphins swam too far to
follow, Scott maneuvered the boat toward us
and cut the engine so we could climb back.
Occasionally Riory used his scooter to ferry
an exhausted snorkeler back to the boat.
Once snorkelers were onboard, the Dolphin
Dream would catch up with the dolphins, and
we would jump in again to interact for a few
minutes to half an hour, depending upon the
dolphins' interest. Juveniles were more curious
and playful, so if they were present, the
encounters were longer. The morning encounters
tailed off by 11 a.m., when the dolphins would simply swim on. Like other cetaceans,
dolphins rest by shutting off half their brain while keeping one eye open as
they swim. This is their sleep time and lasts between mid-morning and early evening,
when they again displayed renewed interest in us.
Initially, I was content to surface snorkel and enjoy the action from above,
watching the experienced freedivers assist the scooter diver to entertain the dolphins.
As the week progressed, I started freediving, eventually reaching a depth of
30 feet, where I got a better perspective, and my swimming with the dolphins helped
keep them around.
Given the long, dolphinless afternoons, on three of our five days, the Captain
anchored at a reef, where after lunch we could scuba dive, using their BCs and regulators.
One day we steamed down to Bimini Road. This shallow site, named for large
flat stones that look like a road from above, sported soft brown coral and typical
Caribbean reef fish, including sergeant majors and a small school of pinfish. A
few lobsters hid under the stones. At a maximum 10-foot depth, it was a relaxing,
though unspectacular dive. Another day, we stopped at Eldorado Shoal, where I followed
Zack as he speared lionfish. The sight of seven lionfish skewered on Zack's
speargun emboldened a small reef shark that took a few bites. Three other sharks,
one significantly larger, kept an eye on us. Feeling exposed without a wetsuit and
concerned about the possible arrival of an even larger predator, I headed back to
the boat. Zack had the same idea and followed me with his fish kebab, the reef
sharks in pursuit.
Other than diving, afternoons meant socializing, napping, reading, or otherwise
entertaining oneself. A few customers practiced yoga on the sundeck. Given my awkward
mobility in the tight cabin, I should have joined them. While I could always
find a quiet spot, I enjoyed gabbing with the interesting guests, whose professional
and educational backgrounds were varied, but they were united by a passion for
dolphins. A large complement of women guests made for a polite and less competitive
atmosphere. "This feels like a friends-and-family trip," I commented to Captain
Scott. "That's not a bad thing, right?" he chuckled.
One night we motored to the deep straits west of the Great Bahama Bank, where
the dolphins hunt. The boat gently drifted, its powerful lights directed off the
stern attracting small crustaceans. Soon they were being hunted by flying fish and
squid. Sharks and dolphins followed. And we, too, joined the underwater melee,
watching the dolphins prove to be much more adept hunters than sharks.
What the boat lacked regarding creature comforts, it made up with the abundance
and quality of its galley offerings. After 7 a.m., we could help ourselves to cereals,
bakery items, yogurts, fresh fruit, eggs sunny-side-up, or scrambled, sausages,
delicious bacon rashers. Heidi once brewed me an espresso, but I found the filtered
coffee more than decent. For the Japanese guests, she boiled rice and offered six choices of seasoning. Lunch was once a variety of pasta and cold ramen noodles with
garnishes. Another day, she prepared sushi and sashimi using hogfish speared by
the deckhands. All meals were buffet, but she cheerfully customized dishes. Did I
want my quesadillas spicy or not? With chicken or with vegetables? With or without
refried beans? Avocado, cilantro, and olives were offered as garnishes.
For dinner one evening we had roast beef, crispy and caramelized on the outside,
pink and juicy on the inside, accompanied by deliciously seasoned roast vegetables.
Her barbecue pork ribs cooked in Coke were so tender that the meat fell
off the bone. Sirloins, perfectly broiled, came with fresh lobster tails. She also
prepared thyme-roasted chicken thighs and baked salmon. The vegetarians had a different
tofu-based course option every evening. For lunch or dinner, there were
a variety of salads and desserts including store-purchased key lime pie, Belgian
eclairs, chocolate cake, and ice cream. Between meals, there was a huge selection
of snacks, healthy and decidedly not, as well as lots of fresh fruit -- nectarines,
watermelon, oranges, or melons. A crudité platter with a dip made an appearance
every afternoon.
Heidi was a keen snorkeler, too. One evening, at the end of an intense dolphin
encounter, she was gushing, overwhelmed by her experience. "Put the snorkel back in
your mouth or else you will drown," quipped one of the regulars.
In my years of diving, I would sometimes I see dolphins swimming in the distance
during a safety stop. Other times I would jump into the water with my snorkel
if we happened upon them on the way back from a dive. Normally they would be in
their sleep state and swim on. Twice, off the Pacific islands of Mexico and Costa
Rica, I had memorable encounters with hunting dolphins, but many interactions on
this trip were longer and more intense. But, while we had morning and late afternoon
encounters every day, there was a lot of down time and lots of motoring.
There was no way of knowing how long the dolphins would hang around each time you
went in. It required determination and energy to repeatedly jump in, swim back,
climb aboard, and jump in again, let alone entertain the dolphins, because if they
weren't entertained they didn't stick around. "Many divers say it's too much work,"
said one of the regulars who once worked on the boat and now returns as a customer
every year. Nevertheless, he finds the dolphin charters more rewarding than the
shark trips. And I surely agree.
-- DTV
Our undercover diver's bio: DTV has been lucky to dive since 2001, mostly in the Indo-Pacific: Solomon Islands,
Indonesia, Philippines, Palau, Chuuk, and the Maldives. He has also dived at the Cocos and Malpelo Islands, the
Galapagos, French Polynesia, the Red Sea, the Mediterranean, the UK, and the Azores. He swam with humpback whales
in Rurutu and with Orcas in Norway. He doesn't bother with a camera, preferring to capture memories in his mind's eye.
Divers Compass: Six nights, $2195. www.dolphindreamteam.com. Dolphin Dream operates dolphin charters between May and August and
shark trips year-round. Not all trips are advertised on the website,
so inquire. . . . Captain Scott's answers to my emails were
delayed when he was out at sea. . . . .There is no additional cost
for scuba diving, and no charge for using a BC and regulator, and
Scott loaned me a wetsuit for the night dive. . . . .The Riviera
Beach Marina is a short taxi ride from the Mangonia Park Tri-Rail
Station, which offers connections to Miami International Airport,
Ft. Lauderdale Airport and Palm Beach. . . .Soft drinks, Coors Light/Budweiser
Light, and Yuengling were complimentary. For anything stronger -- or better beer
-- stock up in Walgreens or Publix before you set off. . . . We sometimes saw
another Bimini-based liveaboard occasionally dragging the customers on a rope off
the stern to view dolphins -- not the sort of interaction Captain Scott is likely
to offer.