Good morning, can I interest you in a transcendent experience?
Turns out breakfast on the Andiamo was whatever you could rummage up by yourself, and I wrapped the sublime joy of waking up in a place like that around myself like a protective blanket during my breakfast of a white (white!) bread sandwich filled with 2 of those profane individually wrapped slices of that petroleum-product “American cheese”.
“Andiamo” means “let’s go!” in Italian, but we had redubbed her the Spettiamo (“we wait”) or the Princessa Sedentaria, and again, if I started to feel impatient with the lack of movement, I just had to remind myself of the color of the water, the shape of the palm trees, and the smiles of my shipmates.
I was playing cards with those shipmates when Jessica pointed over my shoulder and exclaimed “dolphins!”
2.6 seconds later I was in the water, swimming that way as quickly and softly as I could, although there is nothing like a dolphin to remind you of how clumsy humans really are in water. I had seen some dolphin fins outside the reef the day before, but didn’t think they’d come inside the lagoon. The water in there was surprisingly murky, and as I peered into the gloom, my mind saw all sorts of shapes about to emerge from the silt, but none of them quite did.
Then I heard it, the clicking sound of dolphin sonar.
Then I saw it, a shape of unimaginable grace and power, swimming straight towards me before curving and twisting downwards in a corkscrew to pursue a fish.
Good morning. I’m swimming with wild dolphins.