This is not a romantic, life-changing tale of a mutual-admiration romp with adorable ceteceans.
It happened when I lived on Kangaroo Island. A kangaroo did indeed hop through the garden every morning on its way through to the school playing fields. I could hear from my living room the Fairy Penguin chicks calling raucously for their parents. And when I was washing the dishes in the evening, I had a marvellous view of the sunset over towards American River. Quite often, a pod of dolphins would be heading back from a day of fishing and I would see their dorsal fins rising from the darkening sea.
One day, I was on the shore when I saw in the distance the dolphins coming back. It was a warm day and I was in my swimming shorts so I lurched across the rocks and into the sea. I swam straight out so my path would intersect that of the dolphins when they passed. I remembered all of those stories about frolicking with these intelligent creatures and how a reciprocal bond of empathic beauty seemed to be made between Hominid and Delphinid.
I reached the place where the dolphins were going to pass. They passed. That was it. No fun-packed gambol, no glorious connection, no unforgettable experience.
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