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Anne Balfour travelled on one of our holidays in The Galapagos and submitted this entry to our writing competition.
Long-beaked Common Dolphins, Galapagos
I flew up from my seat. The seat in front of the bridge, overlooking the sea ahead of us, which I had dutifully occupied for the last three days during every crossing we’d made up the west coast of Isla Isabela. Juan, our guide, had told us that this was the best place in the Galapagos to see cetaceans. And with his 30 years of guiding experience and celebrity-like status in these islands I had no reason to doubt him. However, up until this moment I had seen nothing more than the distant splash of a Manta Ray re-entering the water with a crash, having leaped high into the air in an attempt to dislodge unwanted passengers. But here, now, on the horizon in front of us, I could see something. Something different. These weren’t splashes. They were blows. There were lots of them. And we were heading straight towards them.
I shouted. Then more shouts went out around the boat until our whole group was up on deck, laughing, gasping, whooping, pointing cameras, pointing binoculars. Just pointing. It didn’t take long for our boat to catch up with them. And I realised that this was a massive pod. A super pod. Pod upon pod of Bottle-nosed Dolphins, Common Dolphins and Short-Finned Pilot Whales. They were stretched out along the whole length of the coastline. Hundreds of animals. Incredible.
Then something utterly amazing happened. Something which I will never forget. The dolphins started to jump. I ran to the stern to get a better view and was met by Juan coming up the stairs. He had his guitar with him. The Captain had already slowed the boat as we were about to cross the equator and the plan was to have a party to celebrate. It seemed that the invitations had been extended far beyond our humble boat to the entire marine population of the Galapagos. And they were not just keen to join us. But to party hard.
Juan burst into song, Francisco handed out cocktails and the dolphins leaped for all they were worth. They jumped solo. They jumped in unison. They jumped forwards. They jumped backwards. They jumped low. They jumped high. They jumped higher and further than I ever thought possible. And I desperately wanted to join them. To be torpedoing through the water, accelerating towards the surface, breaking free and feeling the wind against my skin as I leaped high into the air, observing all around me, before descending and being enveloped by the sea once more. Scientists would argue that the dolphins are using this behaviour to communicate, get a better view of prey, demonstrate their strength and agility, clean their skin like the Mantas I’d seen previously. But maybe, just maybe we were watching nothing more than pure, unadulterated, shameless fun. My 4-year-old niece certainly thought so when I showed her my video a few days later. She ‘wheeeeed’ along with every leap. Her inner dolphin being released just as mine had been. Fun is infectious no matter what animal you are!
Read more about our holidays available in The Galapagos.