Leigh Calvez - The Breath of a Whale

DOLPHIN LESSONS

I swam through the warm, clear water out to the middle of Kealakekua Bay, on the leeward side of the Big Island of Hawaii. Filtered sunlight danced in rainbows on the rippled patterns in the sand below me. Dolphin sounds bounced around me, and I grew more excited as I swam farther out. I wanted something from them. I wanted to understand how it feels to be a dolphin, living in the sea. But I did not want to burden them with my human desires in the one place where they could rest peacefully. Would I interpret their actions correctly? And was this an appropriate time to be swimming with them? I found myself apologizing again for being human. We have caused them so many problems, from ensnaring them in fishing nets as bycatch, to depleting their food sources, to producing marine debris and pollutionboth toxic and noise pollution. I considered swimming back to the beach. And then, I saw them.

I dont remember how many were there; I remember only the mother and calftwo beautiful tricolored dolphins. The mother was slender in body, with a slate-gray cape coloring her top, from the tip of her long, narrow snout to her tail. A pale-gray stripe graced her side, from forehead to fluke, while her white belly gleamed. Across her eyes, a dark-gray mask colored her face from flipper to flipper. And she wore a gentle, enigmatic smile, like a Madonna of the sea. The calf, a miniature version of its mother, was still a little pudgy from baby fat. When the mother allowed the calf to swim between us, I felt certain she was not threatened by me.

As my distress shifted to wonder, the mother slowly moved closer to me, calf in tow. The rest of the pod had moved away, and I was alone with the pair. She looked me in the eye and began to circle me, her calf still between us. I moved slowly in the water, careful not to startle her, and turned to swim on my side to watch the mother and calf. You have a beautiful baby, I said silently, suppressing a smile to avoid filling my mask with seawater. Was she showing her calf to me, or was she showing me to him? I felt the tension that comes when it seems as if the heart can hold no more. I blinked away the tears filling my eyes.

I reminded myself to breathe. With deep inhalations and exhalations, my body calmed, and I floated alongside the dolphins suspended in the sea. My mind ceased its persistent thought, growing quiet, as if in meditation. Then I felt a voice in my heart say, Dont feel guilty for being human. You are the guardians.

Startled, I continued my deep breaths. This was not a thought I had ever had on my own. I sensed the warm ocean swells sweeping over my back. The mother continued her steady gaze while I remained transfixed by her gentle, knowing smile. It was as if she had every confidence that I would do the right thingas a steward. And in some primal space within, I allowed myself to accept my humanness and my place in the world.

Mother and calf circled me once more, and we swam along, side by side, while I watched the chubby calf fall into traveling position just behind the mothers flipper. Then as quickly as she had initiated contact, our encounter was over. I watched the pair vanish into the gray-blue mist of the sea.

Since that interaction, I have often wondered about the message You are the guardians. For years, Ive considered its meaning for myself and for other humans. At one point, I realized that as a scientist studying dolphins, I was their representative. I studied them to help protect them. As a steward, I felt a responsibility to share what I have learned about their lives and culture. But I never really considered the first part of the messageDont feel guilty for being humanuntil now.