Just two days ago, we were camping on the Yorke Peninsula. We’d spent the morning setting up the tents, surrounded by kangaroos, emus and even one sneaky little brown snake and were in need of cooling off.
Half an hour later I was sitting on this reef in the middle of a stunning bay, alone in the lineup but for a couple of Canadian backpackers about 150m down the beach. Tiny swell, but a lone perfect 2-foot left-hander rolling through every 15 minutes, Mem and kids were playing on the sand.
All of a sudden a pod of around 10 dolphins cruised into the peak in front of me, three babies among them. They were just passing by, but I began tapping out a rhythm on my board and they all turned and swam right up and stopped in front of me. I could almost have reached out and touched them, they were so close.
One of the older dolphins lifted its head out of the water and nodded at me a couple of times, while the youngsters swam circles under and around me, watched closely by their parents. After about a minute they all swam off, down towards the Canadians. While their minds were getting blown, I paddled in to the beach to share the experience with my family.
The dolphins headed back up the beach, so Mem ran in and waded out to them, about 25m offshore. She swam with them for a couple of minutes until another set rolled in and the dolphins headed off to catch a couple. She returned to shore and we sat and digested what had just happened for a quiet moment, until we were brought back to reality by our 1yo son, who started to complain when the mouthful of sand he’d just inhaled didn’t taste as good as he’d expected.
The rest of the trip was a bit of a disaster, but that’s another story for another time. Roll on 2012. That’ll do for me.