Hoping For Change // A Little Story Close To My Heart

This is usually a blog of mostly superficial things, I'll be the first to admit that. Today I want to talk about something that I feel much more deeply about though. I really hope you'll spare just two minutes to read this story.

When I was around six years old I visited Sea World for the first time. I was captivated by the beautiful sea creatures and I remember watching the orca and dolphin shows, mesmerised by the tricks they could do. My parents let me choose a souvenir, I opted for a key chain filled with water, a little white sand, a shell and a brightly coloured plastic coral background. And...inside that tiny fake ocean, swam two plastic dolphins. From that moment on, I have remained fascinated by dolphins; their beauty, the emotions they can feel (proven to be very complex); their intelligence levels, which are second only to humans - I find it all so intriguing and interesting to learn about. (If you don't know much about dolphin intelligence, this is a short but informative article and this is a seriously cute and interesting video news report)

I visited Sea World a couple of times subsequently, and several other aquariums around the world, always fascinated by the dolphins in particular.

Then in 2006, without a doubt, I had one of the greatest experiences of my life!

I was in Thailand, visiting my brother who was living out there for a short time. We took a trip to Koh Phi Phi and spent several days exploring the small island by foot. Our father brought us up to be adventurers, always encouraging us to wander off the beaten path. In doing just that we came across an undeveloped beach; only a small hut, made mostly of driftwood, sat there amongst the unspoilt natural scenery of palms and white sand. A man, with skin like leather from years under the baking sun, sold ice cold beers and sodas to anyone who did stray his way, and lent out snorkels to use in the bay. 

After a much needed refreshment, my brother and I abandoned our bags and towels and headed to see what wonders the ocean would be hiding. We spent well over an hour watching the fish, looking at the coral, all right beneath our feet. We gradually swam further out until we reached the edge of the reef, where the floor literally drops away and all you can see are streams of light disappearing into the deep blue. An incredible sight in itself.  

It was then that we spotted them; fins rising from the ocean, only about 50 feet away from us. And, as quickly as we'd spotted them, they were gone. 

Then, just as we turned to swim back, we spotted them again, returning. We quickly realised it was a pod of dolphins; and, even more amazingly, they seemed to be playing, swimming back and forth in front of the bay. Without thought or caution to what else could be out in the deep, my brother began swimming out towards them. I followed. I can't begin to put into words just how amazing what followed was, sometimes I think perhaps I dreamt it. As we got closer the dolphins moved further out; however, after remaining there for some time, treading water, they gradually came back closer and closer...and closer. They were curious. We watched them swim by us. We watched in pure, awe-struck wonder as some jumped clear of the water. We watched under the water through our masks. We watched as they glided up, down and around each other. And we swam, slowly, just a little closer as they passed alongside us, it became clear they knew we weren't a threat, they were now comfortable with our presence in their world. I watched them and I saw them watching me. It was ethereal. Surreal. Incredible. I can't ever explain to you how breathtaking it was to finally see these creatures in the wild, free and so, so close. 

I forget what else happened that day, whether it was them or us who departed first, although I'm sure it must have been them. I forget much of what happened on my trip and as the years pass I'll forget more.  But I will never, ever forget the crystal clear water, the azure blue of the sky that day, and the silvery Gray of their smooth skin. 

After that, I couldn't visit the dolphins in captivity that I once loved to watch. I couldn't see them captured and confined, just like the tiny dolphins in my key chain that I treasured for so many years. 

In 2009, I watched something heart wrenching and learnt about something I wish I hadn't learnt about. It was a movie called The Cove; a documentary focused on a small fishing town in Japan called Taiji. Each year, beginning this very week, schools of dolphins are ruthlessly herded into a small hidden cove and trapped there with nets. The best, most beautiful of them are selected for lives of captivity at places like Sea World and the rest, hundreds and hundreds of them, are slaughtered (inhumanely) for their meat. The ocean turns bright red with the blood of these beautiful, clever animals. Activists who've been in the water during this time in the last couple of years speak of being able to hear the distressed crying of the trapped dolphins panicking in their final moments.

As I said this doesn't fit the usual tone of my blog, and I considered whether or not I should write it. After all, what difference does one person make? Well, a lot if every one person who cares actually shares to a few more. Some people may have already heard of this, or seen the film and some may not care. But some people will, and it's raising awareness of cruel and unethical practises like this that helps to change things. So, I'm posting this, asking only that you consider watching The Cove if you haven't (trailer - HERE) or share the story or at the very least google 'Taiji Dolphins'. Then, next time you think of visiting a 'sea life' centre, please just consider where that animal really belongs, what happened to the others that weren't selected and whether you want to help continue financing of the cruel and unnecessary practises going on in Taiji, to such intelligent, beautiful and amazing animals.

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