Dolphin Swim, Kaikoura

Easter. Celebrated with 300 dusky dolphins cavorting around me. 

The day I had anticipated for so long began with a brilliant red sunrise followed by a warm, sunny day.  Caleb and I boarded a large motorboat, the Dolphinae, with 12 other swimmers.  Within 10 minutes from shore, we were surrounded by dolphins.  Albatross glided inches above the water, while groups of four to five fins would emerge above the water.   Off in the distance, a single dolphin did a series of back flips.

The guide urged us to get on our gear and slip into the water behind the boat.  The water was a cool 14 degree celcius;  I was glad I had the 10mm of wetsuit on my core.  We had been outfitted with sleeveless wetsuits, a jacket, hoods that tucked inside the neckline of the jacket, booties, fins, snorkel and masks.  I had further outfitted myself with a hybrid camera that could take pictures underwater.

Heaps of dolphin all around

Dolphin swimming is regulated by the Department of Conservation.  There can be a maximum of 15 swimmers, no one is to touch or feed the dolphins.  In one outing, the maximum number of swims  is 5.    There can be no swimmers during feeding times, and there must be an hour and a half time without human contact between swims.  The dolphin activity with any particular person depends on the individual’s ability to entertain the dolphins.  What do dolphins find entertaining? Music, undulating swimmers, spinning, and eye contact.

No zoom.  She is just inches from me! Actually there are two of them...

Scar face...

 The dance of the sugar plum fairies was the theme of my first swim. I sang this repeatedly into my snorkel. I tried different tunes, but with seemingly less success.  Dolphins would appear under me and circle around.  By spinning around, and keeping eye contact, I found the dolphin would turn toward me.  I would try to follow by diving down, but I could not keep up.  Taking pictures meant I was less entertaining, and they tended not to stay as long.  If I stopped singing, they also would vanish.   My snorkel leaked slightly from the intake valve and I found singing, breathing combined with spinning a challenge.  I inhaled/swallowed my share of the Pacific at first.  Dolphins would occasionally come and swim beside me momentarily.

They are too fast for my camera! *and too close

On our first swim, I came up  to adjust my snorkel and felt a nibble on my wrist.  A brown, immature gull had attacked my wrist!  I tried to swim away, but it put its head down and came after me like a torpedo!  It tried to nibble on my fins several times.  I would escape, but the gull returned to my area repeatedly nibbling, interrupting my dolphin swim.   When the guide motioned that we were to board the boat as the dolphins were moving on, I was relieved to leave  the stalking gull…

  By the second drop, I had abandoned the snorkel as it limited my ability to spin, and reverted to singing, swimming in an undulating fashion,  and surfacing to breathe. What a joy. I dolphin kicked, undulating in the waves, and the dolphin seemed to stay with me longer. As I broke into butterfly, the dolphin responded and arched gracefully next to me.  I found if I swam more energetically, they would match my speed and effort.  If I dove, they too would dive, but inevitably swim beyond my vision.  If I turned belly up underwater, they would often mimic me.  I once saw a dolphin swim over me as I tried swimming below the surface.  All the while, I sang.  I wish I could say I heard or felt their reply, but I did not.  One dolphin with several hash marks behind her right eye returned several times.  How did they perceive me?  What kind of thought process is occurring in the dolphin as they swim with me?  I am aware of their intelligence.  I would like to understand the communication better.  For now, it is the experience, the dance that we share, a non-verbal communication.  I recognize that sometimes non-verbal communication is the most powerful form.  I wish I had more time to explore this with the dolphin.  I must have been with this one dolphin for 15 minutes.  Despite my activities, my hands were getting cold.  I looked up to see most of the swimmers already aboard the boat and the guide motioning folks back in.

Water is blue, but healthy with lots of plankton. I even saw phosphorescent sea slugs, but they did not come out on film...

After surfacing, we had the opportunity to observe all 300 of them, some mating, some back flipping, some spinning, others racing the boat. I was humbled to think I had been amongst them.  I learned plenty about the dusky dolphin that day.  Over 2000 resident dusky dolphin reside in the waters off Kaikoura.  They feed at night and rest the remaining time.  Because they must be conscious to breathe, they sleep one hemisphere of their brain at a time.  These dolphin also are one of the few other mammals that mate outside of the reproductive season.  A dolphin may mate as many as 5 times in a couple of minutes!  They have many types of dolphin in the waters around NZ.  The dusky dolphin are smaller than “Flipper” (bottlenosed dolphin), but larger than the Hector dolphin.  There are Orca (the largest dolphin) near Kaikoura, but only transients.  (While on Whidbey, I learned about the resident and transient Orcas. They differ significantly in terms of behavior and diet).

As we left, I was saddened to think of all the dangers man has brought to these lovely, intelligent mammals: pollution, radiation, loss of habitat, and indiscriminate fishing of sea mammals.  I recalled a visit to Florida where I was appalled at the degradation in health and diversity of the reefs in my life time.  As global warming continues, more will be lost…

What a privilege to have communicated in this way with the dolphin.  What a treat to have eye contact and dance this aquatic samba today.  This Easter, I celebrate the rich marine life that graces the earth.  Instead of chicks and bunnies, this Easter has been one of seals, dolphin, and the rhythm of the waves.   May I remember to support those who work to protect the oceans, marine life and conservation.

Easter in Kaikoura

Kaikoura

It is the second day of my vacation, Saturday before Easter.  Caleb and I arrived yesterday on this peninsula that juts into the Pacific.  Seals, dusky dolphins, albatross and whale call this area of the south island home.  In the summer, the rare blue penguin nest here.  I had planned to be here for New Years.  The delay means the water is colder; I have missed the penguin, and the companion I bring is my son.  This trip has had many permutations during the course of planning: traveling here alone, with Heidi, with Brandon, again alone, and finally, with Caleb.   As luck would have it, Caleb spent the eve before our departure in a tempest of fever-dreaming.  He has come down with what could be the flu: congestion and fever.  He is improving and hopes to be able to swim with the dolphins in the morning.  Can meaning be assigned to the bumps in the road?  

Seal on the side of the road...

I awoke this morning to find the snow capped mountains flirting with the clouds.  The tide was high as I ran along the coast toward the seal colony.  The first seal I came upon was sleeping on the asphalt on the side of the road.  It  lazily opened one eye and then the other, before reverting to its sleeping position.  Ahead, a woman from Australia insisted the seal had been hit.  She surmised this from a wet spot in the road.  The seal seemed completely unharmed to me. No blood.  In attempting to cover the seal with a blanket, the seal sat up and showed its sharp, yellowed teeth.  No, not dying… 

 View from Kaikoura Peninsula Track

Further up, the rocky coastline was dotted with seal, most sleeping and looking more dead than alive. Later, Caleb and I would return, walking this time.  The  lower tide allowed us to walk out to where some seal rested.  One or two would raise their heads to regard us.  This was the extent of our interaction with the seal.

Memorial Gardens in Kaikoura. Whale rib bones form the arches

This weekend, Easter, is a four day holiday. It marks the beginning of two weeks of school vacation, the first of their school year, which began in February (at the end of summer).  Good Friday and Easter Monday are both public holidays, so most everyone has a four day weekend.  Thus, Kaikoura is quite busy this fall weekend and the backpacker has no vacancies.  Monday is also ANZAC day, the celebration of the landing of the NZ and Australian armed forces on Gallipoli beach in 1915.   The goal was to control the Dardonnelles, the gateway of the Bosphorus and Black Sea. However, at the end of the campaign, it was still held by the Turks. One in four of the people that served on Gallipoli Penninsula were kiwi.  ANZAC Day is always celebrated on April 25th.  Like Armistice Day in England and our own Memorial Day, it is the time when the war dead are remembered.  It is interesting that this year ANZAC and Easter weekend coincide.  Both days of remembrance of life given in hopes of achieving a greater purpose, but each with much different meaning.

Although I spent some of my youth in South America and have experienced several autumnal Easters, it is the experience of parenting children during northern hemispheric Easters that I relate to most.  In creating our own traditions, I recall relating to my children that Easter was also the celebration of the arrival of spring, the renewal of the earth from the bleak winter months.  Easter, here marks the beginning of the cooler and wetter weather.  As such, I am feeling particularly culturally disconnected this weekend.

At the South Bay entry to the Kaikoura Peninsula track this Maori statue guards the entry

I hope to write several short blog entries this trip.  I will post them, and fit them with a full complement of pictures when I return home as I did not pack the cord to download photos from the camera and will have to rely on the phone’s camera.

Kaikoura Penninsula Track: from whence I spied the spinning dolphins!

Tomorrow I swim with dolphins.  My underwater camera was purchased expressly for this trip!!! Today I witnessed dolphins cavorting in the water, spinning, doing 360 degree aerial acrobatics through binoculars from the shore.  Tomorrow I hope to see them from a different perspective!

Earthquakes, Gifts and more photos (of course)

Piha Beach, west of Auckland. 2 April

Sunday night, the last of March, and I am stretched on the couch, tissue box at the ready as I am nursing a cold, considering all that has transpired since my last blog entry, “Swim for  Christchurch.”  In the intervening weeks, the tragedy of another earthquake underscored the distance between me and my sons.  The earthquake in Japan occurred on Caleb’s 23^rd birthday. It was a perfect evening, starlit and warm.  I had just finished watching a free movie in the park with Brandon on Auckland’s North Shore, when the announcement came over the loudspeaker that a major earthquake hit Japan and we should go home and turn on the TV.  Dread spread over me as I thought of my son, Caleb, in Ichinomiya, west of Tokyo.  I had no idea where the quake had hit, nor its magnitude.  Thankfully, I was able to use my phone to check the NY Times headlines.  Within minutes, I knew its location and the severity, but had no concept as to the degree of destruction.  Over the next few hours, I was to learn that  Nagoya and Ichinomiya were spared any major damage and surmised Caleb was safe.  It was to be several days before I was able to connect with him.

Effects of  jet lag and lunch on Caleb, day 2 in Auckland.  Mt. Eden Reserve.

I was given a gift that day.  After fearing the worst, I learned he was safe.  It was not the case for many others. In the moment that I learned of the quake and thought of the possibility of losing my son, I felt the pain and anguish of a nation of mothers. I was given the gift of relief, of freedom from grief & suffering.  I would watch, later, with horror at the devastation the tsunami wrought.  The earthquakes have provided me a window into communities and individuals in the face of devastation. In adversity, both in Christchurch and in Japan, people came together, bound by a common experience, to help each other in this time of crisis.  Here, thousands of fund raisers, from  schools to businesses, to music festivals have dedicated  money for Christchurch survivors.  Millions have been raised. Funds have provided food, shelter and  income for folks who have lost work and businesses.   In Tokyo, a city on scheduled blackouts, people are committed to staying in the city, devoted to their country and determined to not only survive but thrive.  Here in Auckland, Japanese families stand on street corners asking for donations, while in the US, Ichiro donates a small fortune.  It has been a gift to witness folks put down their differences and find their commonality, regain their strength, compassion and altruism.

                                                One of the Herne Bay swim beaches, this one with a community boathouse aka Marine Parade Reserve: my usual venue for a swim is a block from my house.  Now nearly free from glass (thanks Brandon).

The events surrounding the nuclear disaster at the Daichii nuclear plant concerned me, but I was mollified for a time.  When the third explosion occurred, the truth of the nuclear disaster was unveiled to the western world.  My fears mounted.  My sister, Kate, encouraged me to get Caleb out of Japan.  I called Caleb to beseech him to come home.  It was not until his father joined my appeal via Skype that Caleb said he would consider leaving Japan.  Three days later, he landed in Auckland, his right arm injured from an Australian rules football game, but otherwise intact.  (Later, I would find out he had fractured his radius.  Despite this injury, he managed to haul his suitcases through three airports on his way to Auckland).

View of Mt Eden's crater with east Auckland  in the distance taken with Caleb by my side.

Fractured femur, surgery, lengthy recovery, medical bills (Morgan), earthquake, tsunami, nuclear disaster and a fractured right radial head (Caleb),at times  I have felt my year in Auckland has been some kind of a trial by fire.   Mother to adult men with some of the most difficult times of their young lives.  Both men now in that wonderful, yet stressful time in their lives when they have so many options at their feet as they choose the next path to travel.  Odd, that in many ways, my life mirrors theirs.  Here I am in Auckland about to embark on the eighth month of this adventure. I am not yet sure of what this experiment will mean to NZ in the long run or how it will change my life.  I am reminded that happiness is not so much about where I am, but how I have chosen to participate in where I am.

Brandon on a bike ride in Silverdale, outside Auckland

As March drew to a close, Brandon’s kiwi adventure finished with a flight back to Christchurch, Sydney, LA and home, with one bag lost someplace between here and there. The following weekend, Caleb and I ventured to Mount Maunganui three hours south of Auckland.

Mt Maunganui still visible despite the rain.

I swam in another open water event there, while Caleb hiked to the top of the mount for which the town is named.  We then sought out Hobbiton, the set of the Hobbit movie, and took many pictures we have sworn not to publish on blogs etc.  It was my second trip, having visited in February with Brandon as well.  It was well worth both visits even for those who are only fans (“fanatics” has been redefined by some of the tales of visitors to Hobbiton. Ex: One couple: the English speaking gentleman translated the tour guides' shpeel for his non-English speaking partner, not into their native language, but  into elvish!!!).

The 118 swimmers for the 1k swim.  627 swimmers completed the 2.8k course later.  Note the brilliant surf life saving crew on surf boards (most of them are on these) an boats that support the swimmers and keep us safe.

The stress of the past month and the start of the flu season here in NZ has left me with a cold, fatigued, yet sleepless on the couch, contemplating another work week ahead.  Fortunate, though, to have two boys alive and well, supportive family and friends without whom I would not have weathered these challenges as well.  Heartfelt thanks.

White beach: secluded beach as seen from the headlands Te Waha. White's beach is named after Francis White, the blacksmith who purchased the land from Te Kawerau a Maki.

West Auckland Coastline: view on my walk  on 2April with Caleb  and Greg Garbarino (Whidbey Islander visiting NZ).