In the Wake of Beluga

     So, we had survived Gloria unscathed.  But then we lingered a long while in Beaufort, N.C. getting a new mainsail and windvane steering.  Then we got our butt kicked by an early winter norther on our departure southbound – which led to six months in the boatyard at Canaveral.

     Having gone as far north as I cared for, my cruising ground became Florida, the Florida Keys, and the Bahamas.  In the Bahamas I met Katmandu, a family of good people living a real life who became excellent friends.  Michael and Cathy fell in love, had children, and now they were getting married in the Turks and Caicos Islands.  I followed them there, where I met the dolphin known as Jojo.

  

     January 1989.  Beluga motored close to the beach along the north shore of Provo toward the Leeward Going Through.  Mary, Dean, Peter, and I were aboard.  Tim trailed astern on a hundred foot line, climbing the line then dropping back, diving and surfacing, rolling and somersaulting, obviously having a wonderful time.  Jojo the bottlenose dolphin darted around him, beside, ahead, beneath, behind, matching Tim’s moves and adding his own.  I was amazed, delighted, perhaps a bit dazed as I listened to Dean tell of the friendship he and Tim had been cultivating with this dolphin.  We had just spent an hour with him off the Club Med beach and were now leading him toward a gathering of yesterday’s wedding party.

     This was my first visit to Provo.  I’d come for the wedding of my friends Michael and Cathy of Katmandu.  Through them I’d met Tim and Mary aboard Beluga, and through them, Jojo.

     To the best of anyone’s knowledge, Jojo is entirely wild and is one of very few wild dolphins to choose human companionship.  One theory is that he is an outcast.  Another is that he was released from captivity.  In any event, Jojo is a phenomenon.  He is often found hanging out with swimmers, occasionally trips water-skiers, joins scuba classes, and follows dive boats and party boats.  Without question he is an attraction.  But he can be a problem, too.  He has been known to butt swimmers, often for cause, sometimes causing injury.

     After entertaining the wedding party on that marvelous first encounter, he followed us to our anchorage and stayed well into the night.

     That had been the big Jojo encounter of my first Provo visit though I’d kept an eye for him during subsequent sails aboard my own boat Ambia.  My allotted 60 days ran out and I returned to the Bahamas.  The photos I’d taken came out poorly, but the memories remained clear.  What I’d been party to had made lifetime memories for perhaps two-dozen people, myself included.

     Six months later my Bahamas cruising permit expired and Ambia and I returned to Provo.  It was a hard passage and Ambia was in need of minor repairs.  Further, Tim was temporarily out of the country.  So, it was a while before I saw the dolphin again.

     But what a rush when I did!  Tim had some friends visiting from the Florida Keys, Jane, Lena, and Rick.  I joined them aboard Beluga and we sailed off to find the dolphin.  He deserted a crowd he’d gathered on the beach as soon as he recognized Beluga’s approach.  We anchored long enough for everyone to introduce themselves then dropped a line astern with a board on the end (the board, fashioned in the shape of a dolphin’s caudal fin, enhances our underwater maneuvering considerably).  Tim did the first tow, then Lena.  Then a second line was deployed so two of us could cavort separately, with Jojo darting back and forth between us.  Even without a dolphin swimming in close formation, it is among the most fun things I’ve done.  Jane took a turn, then Rick.  Then we anchored and all went in.  Jojo was back and forth and round and about entertaining us as we entertained him. When Tim finally left for a time, Jojo went into a rest mode I’d been told of, slowly circling near Beluga in one direction for an hour or so then in the other direction for a similar time.  He made no reaction when I swam with him, other than to drift away any time I got within half a body length.  Jane had been fixing dinner between her own bouts in the water.  We ate and faded into the oblivion of happy exhaustion.

     And so, roughly, went the days.  There were other things to be done – provisioning, boat work, several sails with Beluga and Ambia in company, helping friends rescue a tender that had run afoul of the surf and such – but the focus of each day was several hours of interaction (as the dolphin people call it) with Jojo.  Sometimes we found the dolphin, other times he found us.  As soon as he showed up someone went in the water.  If we were underway, we’d tow at least one snorkeler.

     The swim board allowed us to maneuver, dive, and contour fly the sand bottom, patch coral, and reef (watch out for that coral head coming up!).  Jojo flew in close formation, inches away, occasionally touching.  Sometimes the two of us would corkscrew around each other.  One of his games is swimming out of sight ahead then coming down the towline flat out – I’m glad he’s good at it because his beak can kill a shark.  Often, we towed two, sometimes three snorkelers.  Jojo flits between us, favoring whoever is being the most creative.  On slower tows, three or four knots, he seems hardly to move.  On fast tows, when one must be careful not to have their mask torn off and the drag of the water makes you feel like you’re hanging by your arms (and swim suits not secure are quickly swept away), Jojo lopes.  Even with several swimmers working in rotation there was no sign of him tiring.  The destination of our tows varied: to clear water for photography, a rendezvous with other Jojo fans, to the beach to share him with swimmers, to various places for various reasons, sometimes to nowhere in particular just for the pleasure of towing with him, and finally to an anchorage for the night.  One day we were in Jojo’s company with at least one of us always in the water for eleven consecutive hours.  Several times, when any of the many of us who entertain him had the energy to continue, interactions went well into the night.

     26 October.  I sailed aboard Beluga yesterday and today.  The winds have been fluky for a week or so and a big swell has been rolling in making north shore anchorages untenable (even for the large trimaran, Tao, now in the Pond) and dinghy landing through the surf was out of the question.  Also aboard Beluga were Horace Dobbs, Gloria, Mike, and yesterday Doug Perrine, Dean, and Andy.  They all swam to the boat while I ferried gear handed out through the surf in Beluga’s rowing dinghy, Jolly Dumper.  The water was quite cloudy.  Both yesterday and today Beluga was joined by Jojo off Club Med, I towed with him a bit before we anchored, and we played with the dolphin while everything and everyone were being put aboard.  Then (both days) we motored to the first clear water we found, extending from Leeward channel to near the Conch Farm egg preserve.  Yesterday I did most of the tow from Club Med to the spot, today I did the entire tow. Once there, I mostly stayed aboard while everyone else did their thing with the dolphin.  Also common to both days, after several hours of enthusiastic interaction Jojo departed, we motored back in the sloppy seas, offloaded passengers and equipment through the surf the same way they had been loaded, and motored to the Pond for the night, arriving around sunset.  As for the differences in the two days, yesterday Jojo entertained us with a nurse shark about his length for well over an hour.  When he finally let the shark slip off, everyone came out of the water.  When he brought it back again, I went in and was joined by Dean.

Today’s tow, roughly two miles, blew me away.  Most of it was in murky water with visibility seldom better than 10 or 15 feet, but Jojo was real happy and so was I.  I knew from the outset I had to pace myself for so long a tow, but still managed quite a bit of maneuvering, the two of us diving, surfacing, often wheeling around each other.  Due to the surface conditions, Beluga went a bit slower than usual allowing much head movement without losing my mask and allowing me to watch the dolphin (who generally does his tight formation work with his head behind mine) more than usual.  Much time was also spent eye to eye, and it seemed each of us was trying to convey how pleased he was.  It gave me a sense that I had finally graduated to the level of a respected friend.  Visibility improved dramatically after crossing the bar west of Leeward Channel making it even more fun.  Then, as if Jojo suddenly realized we were making for the same place we’d all had so much fun yesterday, he went wild, flashing around me at great speed, leaping for breaths, rushing at and past me from all directions, squeaking, working his mouth and releasing bursts of bubbles from his blow hole.  He made several opposing passes with us both rolling and releasing air bubbles.

     Then we swam the anchor and chain to the bottom (as is his custom) and swam together a few minutes longer.  Finally, with the others coming into the water, I climbed aboard in elated exhaustion.

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     Countless hours have been spent by Dean and Tim (and by Andy, Leslie, David, Mikel, Stan, I and others) learning to be the dolphin’s friend and cultivating his trust.  The shortcut is to learn what the dolphin’s idea of good manners is from those who know – which has little to do with what amusement park dolphins have been conditioned to put up with – and to learn what Jojo, as an individual likes.  We cannot expect Jojo to act in accordance with human etiquette, not in his world.  Still, some manners are universal.  One who sticks a finger in his blowhole (it has happened) should expect an equivalent response to sticking a finger in the nose of a 260-pound man.  Jojo’s end may be at the hand of man.  We are a careless and vengeful lot.  That is the epitaph of many wild dolphins who choose to deal with us.  Or maybe not….

        [Twenty-five years later, Jojo is still swimming the waters of the Caicos Islands.]

The Islands Sun, May 1990