Girl on a Dolphin

A native New Jerseyite, Denise Creedon is moving west by stages. First she spent a couple of years in Austin, attending the University of Texas; then, in 1972, she went to California on vacation—and stayed there, settling down in the town of Agoura, where she designs custom wall decors. But whenever she gets a chance, she heads even farther into the setting sun—to Hawaii, where she frolics with her friends the dolphins. It all began when Denise, who has a master diver's certificate, started studying to earn scuba instructor's credentials. She met some people who were interested in saving whales; they all started making a film and—well, we'll let Denise tell about it in her own words.

There are people who believe that dolphins are our equivalent in the ocean. Such scientists as Dr. John Lilly believe that the cetaceans—dolphins and their cousins the whales—have evolved parallel to us, with large, complex brains that contain an intelligence comparable to our own but of a very alien nature. After all, dolphins having evolved separately in such different elements for 50,000,000 years, one wouldn't expect them to have minds similar to ours.

My first contact with dolphins was back in 1976, during the early days of the filming of the still-unreleased movie FLO, a wildlife fantasy about the plight of the humpback whale. Sculptor/film maker John Perry and I were in Hawaii filming whales when John persuaded some local fishermen to lead us to the dolphins. These fishermen depend on the dolphin to lead them to schools of tuna. Fishing in the traditional way with rod and line, they catch the fish but do not harm the dolphins, unlike the modern purse seiners, who use nets to catch the fish and drown so many dolphins—who, like us, are air breathers—in the process.

I was spellbound as we entered the water and found ourselves surrounded by dolphins. For the first time, in the 100-foot visibility of the clear Pacific, I became fully conscious of their three-dimensional freedom. Only birds in flight experience the same freedom of movement. But dolphins have an advantage: In water, they are so buoyant they're virtually weightless and can suspend themselves effortlessly in hydrospace.

Accompanying us was our underwater photographer, Jim Hudnall, who is deeply involved in establishing a sanctuary in the Hawaiian Islands for the few remaining humpback whales. The films he shot were among the first ever taken of free dolphins swimming with people.

Reluctantly leaving the dolphins, we returned to the mainland to start a publicity campaign with FLO, our 100-foot-long hot-air balloon, shaped like a humpback whale, which we conceived of to draw attention to the plight of the whales and the dolphins.

I eagerly returned to Hawaii the following summer, 1977, to re-establish contact with the dolphins. We were delighted to find the same ones—even to recognize individuals from the previous year. This time, we experimented with various forms of underwater communication. We tried underwater bells, flutes and harmonicas, which seemed to emit sounds close to the high-frequency squeaks and whistles with which dolphins communicate. We also showed them underwater kites made of shimmering Mylar, but our most extravagant gesture involved playing a grand piano to them from the deck of the schooner Sea Runner, through an underwater speaker. Singer/songwriter Jon Buckley even came over to try out a new number, Love Swim, on the dolphins.

To be truthful, all these activities seemed to entertain us more than they did the dolphins. Certainly, they were curious and would come over to check out our latest antics, but their curiosity was soon satisfied and they would drift off to their own pleasures.

We spent endless days swimming and playing with them, observing their activities and social interaction. I fell in love with the easy grace of their existence. Dolphins are the ultimate hedonists. They seem to spend little time hunting fish. When they do hunt, they are so organized and swift that it is soon over, leaving them a great deal of time for play and sexual activity.

During that time of first real contact, I often wondered how the dolphins must have reacted to the unprecedented human attention. Gradually, I developed the impression that if communication were possible, it would happen on a different level. Watching them closely and seeing how coordinated their movements were underwater reminded me of the sort of communion that exists between good lovers or longtime dance partners. (concluded on page 223) Dolphin Girl (continued from page 124) The whole school seemed to be in harmony, while smaller groups seemed to establish an even closer empathy. It made me begin to believe in telepathy among dolphins. Since water is nearly 1000 times as dense as air, perhaps some vibrations—too thin for air to carry—can be transmitted through water.

So I started just swimming along with them, hoping they would come to accept me and reveal some of their secrets. I was rewarded by being admitted to the center of the herd; I was literally in a cloud of dolphins. One seemed particularly friendly; I named him Notchback and concentrated my attention on him. We had several long swims, swimming in unison and surfacing for air together.

It was during that summer that I met Steve Sipman and Ken LaVasseur, who had just released two dolphins, Puka and Kea, from a research establishment. Steve and Ken had been assistant researchers for two years, living within 15 feet of the dolphins. Puka and Kea, who had been the subjects of research experiments for as much as 13 years, were kept in separate tanks in isolation from each other and their kind. Steve and Ken were so in tune with these dolphins that they knew they were depressed and suffering, so under the veil of night, they carefully returned them to the ocean.

Ironically, Steve and Ken exchanged their freedom for the freedom of the dolphins; they were given six-month prison sentences for grand theft. But, as Steve told me, "It was worth it; nothing they can do to us would be as bad as what was coming down on those dolphins. I would do it again."

That convinced me more than ever of the need to demonstrate the possibility of working with dolphins in the open ocean. The efforts of many researchers with captive dolphins have undeniably laid a valuable foundation for their study, but I personally can see no justification for continuing to keep them in captivity for research purposes. Whether dolphins are as "intelligent" as we are has not been proved, but my experience convinces me that they are superior animals worthy of special respect and that anyone wishing to study them should do so in their own environment.

Last spring, I returned for the third time to the dolphins' domain. It took us many days under the hot sun to reestablish contact. They seemed withdrawn, elusive. Our activities during the previous years had drawn attention to their presence and accessibility, and many other people had been visiting them. Deep down, I was worried that they would not accept me this time. My feelings must have projected to the dolphins. Suddenly, they were there, all around the boat, as if inviting me in. I slipped into the clear, cool water with a rush of anticipation and immediately began to recognize old friends. There was a newborn baby in the group, no more than three feet long, swimming close to its mother, like a shadow. I noticed a pure-white adult dolphin I had never seen before, which made me wonder how their tribes intermix. Then I saw Notchback. I was surprised at how glad I felt to see him again. As before, he nearly always stayed close to me and I concentrated my attention on him.

As we got closer than ever before, I was startled to realize how large he really was. He was about eight feet long and I suppose would weigh about 300 pounds. Being that close, I could see the muscles rippling and flexing beneath his tight silvery skin. His body markings, shades of gray and silver, were beautiful, and his dark sensitive eyes watched continuously. We were so close that I could feel the currents created by his undulating movements. Finally, he was within arm's length and I experienced a sensation I'll never forget. As I reached out, I felt him quiver at my touch.

"My feelings must have projected to the dolphins. Suddenly, they were all around the boat."