During the cold holiday season, I find myself remembering trips to tropical waters and the species I’ve encountered there. I may write about sea turtles, reef sharks, octopus, or triggerfish in the future, but it’s the spinner dolphins (Stenella longirostris) that have been on my mind this past week.
Spinner Dolphins. Photo by jurvetson (flickr)
Jerry and I happened upon a pod two years ago while snorkeling in about 30 feet of water in Maui’s La Perouse Bay. There were fifty or so, including some mothers with calves beside them. The dolphins first swam beneath, then surfaced around us, dove back down and circled back for another pass. A few bold ones darted close by, sometimes spinning, flashing their bellies and hovering for a moment.
Our encounter lasted about thirty minutes. I’m still in awe of that experience but haven’t been able to speak or write of it without dripping superlatives and cliches. I also worry that we may have unwittingly dipped into the murky depths of dolphin harassment under the Marine Mammal Protection Act.
I doubt lone swimmers arming it from shore (for us — about a mile, round trip), noticing dolphins, and then waiting a respectful distance to see if they approach impact the animals as much as tour boats buzzing through pods and dumping folks by the dozens among them. And dolphins do often surprise snorkelers, kayakers and motor boats by appearing, and then following, those who try to maintain the 50 yard distance recommended by the Marine Mammal Protection Act (we’ve had that experience in kayaks; getting away from a curious dolphin is not as easy as the MMPA makes it sound). However, dolphin tourism, dolphin spirituality, and dolphin therapy are all becoming big industries increasing pressure for contact with these remarkable animals. Under these circumstances, any human attempt to get near dolphins could be the tipping point that drives a pod from a particular resting and feeding area.
In our tendency to anthropomorphize animals, we humans tend to think that wild dolphins approaching us are trying to play. Their mouths, evolved to grab individual fish, make them look like they’re always grinning. It’s hard for any dolphin, especially one that twirls, to look like it’s not playing. Yet spinner dolphins who surround humans may simply be checking out a disturbance to their daytime sleep.
Like so many other wilderness experiences, dolphin encounters will in the future probably be mediated by regulations, tour operators and fees. I see the necessity of that for the sake of dolphins, but it makes me sad.
Enough of those melancholy thoughts. I’m remembering spinner dolphins to forget my winter doldrums. Here’s a a video that captures the sensation and sounds of their daytime underwater activity. I discovered it while perusing Jurvetson’s photography on Flickr. He shot the video off the coast of Lana’i, not far from Maui.
Learn More About Spinner Dolphins:
Oregon State University and University of Hawaii Research on Dolphin Communication and Predation.
How dolphins in the Red Sea are benefiting from limitations on human contact.
NOAA information on swimming with wild dolphins
American Cetacean Society Fact Sheet
Hawaiian Marine Mammal Consortium
On the need to protect spinner dolphins from human disturbance (including swimmers)
Thank you for the trip to warm waters… My husband and I used to take trips to one island or another in the Carribean and snorkel…..sigh….I could use that with a cold Buffalo winter in full force here….Michelle
You’re welcome, Michelle. Yes, as much as I love winter, I also long for brief excursions to warm snorkeling places.