Because they can

One of my favorite retirement pastimes is boogie boarding in Newport Beach. Fifteenth Street is perfect. There is a shower and a bathroom, each an essential for surfers who don’t much want to rough it. I’ve been frequenting this spot since I started teaching at teacher at Corona del Mar High School. From our home in Irvine I can be comfortably parked, attired in my wetsuit and in the water in 25 minutes. From Fifteenth Street, I could easily shower and arrive at my classroom on time for my 9:00am class.

In more recent years since my retirement in 2006, I have been able to spend more time at my favorite spot. There is a pod of dolphins that hangs around Newport, methodically patrolling the waters from the famous “Wedge” to the Santa Ana River jetty. They are out there almost every morning meticulously reducing the ranks of the local fish population. On occasion, they can be seen catching a wave, or even two.   

And so, on a recent morning at 6:00am, with the ocean smooth as glass and the wave gods bringing clean breaks and rolling shoulders, I lay on my boogie board during a lull and watched the pod of dolphins work the outside waters for breakfast. This pod sports darkly-colored coats; very unlike their tame, steel grey cousins who perform the amazing tricks and leaps at Sea World. As I looked outside, two dolphins leaped, their dark bodies entirely clearing the waterline in what looked like an expression of joy. This was something I had never seen before although I have watched them many times.

I didn’t have much time to reflect on their soaring delight because a set of waves appeared on the horizon and I kicked swiftly to reach the sweet spot of the first wave. I turned rapidly and dropped off the peak of the wave and down the shoulder. The result was a long and satisfying ride away from the breaking wave that carried me far to the right of my lineup point.

It required some strenuous effort to fight through the whitewater of the three subsequent waves of the set and it was awhile before I reached my lineup point. I was rewarded with the day’s biggest wave. Kicking and paddling hard I started to turn the board away from the break, but just in time I saw that there was no shoulder. The wave was going to break simultaneously all along the beachfront. To have continued my trajectory would have resulted in a trip “over the falls” of the ten foot wave face and to be tossed about in the spin cycle.

Just as I pulled up, barely escaping the majestic cascade, the flying body of a dark dolphin powered by me underwater at Mach 1. The animal was so close I could have almost put my hand out to touch it. The dolphin must have ridden the wave, I couldn’t see because it was below me. But then it emerged from the raging foam with a jump that brought it completely out of the water. I turned to see an even bigger wave outside of me, and as I furiously kicked to get under it the last thing I saw was another dolphin skimming across the wave’s steep face.

I had my only other close encounter with a dolphin many years ago. I was lined up for a wave and the animal came from below and knocked me off my board, scaring the hell out of me.  This happened in the days before I had a leash on my board and as I swam toward the board the dolphin hit it, but not me, yet again. At this point, I abandoned the board, and fortified by fear and adrenalin, sprinted for the safety of  the shore. It took awhile for my board to wash ashore, but I was patient.

When I first told this story, a few of my friends thought that perhaps the dolphin might actually be protecting me, perhaps from a shark. Maybe I was just interfering with the fishing.