Swimming and observing the dolphin on such a regular basis inevitably leads one down the road of behavioural psychology. Note his changing moods and traits over a period of time and patterns will emerge. Note the habits of some of the swimmers and there’s thesis material there too. But it does engage you in the rhythm of life, that ever changing cyclical nature of this world. Where infinite possibilities have a finite window within which to act out their miracle of existence. That is the beauty of it for me, the seasonal aspect to swimming with Fungie. Monitoring the nuances in his behaviour, seeing those initial signs of interest in autumn, the first full-on swim of the year. Then that mad month or so when every swim is exceptional, the intense fever of the experience all-consuming. Peak time and we’re dancing with a dolphin, renewing and building upon a bond of trust and friendship. Exaltation. And then the slowing down when different priorities are calling. When the fishing commands more of Fungie's time, when financial demands drive me to work. It is all seasonal and appeals to the pagan within me. In the Sea of Cortez every December, blue whales that have travelled thousands of miles come together with a multitude of other cetaceans. It is a time for mating, calving and social interaction, when whalesong reverberates through the ocean. When it is over there is a mass dispersal across the seas with many animals leading an otherwise solitary existence. I like the fact that Fungie begins to lose interest in us swimmers come January, that this complex creature doesn’t need us. I find that quite reassuring.
Nick Massett
Water time - 40 mins
Fungie time - 5 mins
Swimmers - OJ, Louise, Nick and Paul
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