chaotic mortal

The Brownsville Story: II - The One Who Loves Dolphins

April 21st, 2008. Published under Traveling, True Life. No Comments.

continued…

On the lower coast of Texas, where South Padre Island was, there was a dolphin watcher. Her name was Marg (not really). She loved the dolphins in the Gulf of Mexico, and her husband ran a dolphin-watching business.

We went dolphin watching with her for an entire day during my Brownsville spring break vacation.

This is her story, along with mine.

———-

<< The Brownsville Story: I - The One Who Loves Dolphins

I looked shocked for a moment, before Marg broke into laughter. When she saw the terrified looks on our faces, she apologized. “I was just joking.” It seemed everyone down here was like Derik.

We moved along as Marg began telling yet another story.

- - - -

It was Marg’s anniversary, and she was excited. Her husband asked her what she would like for her birthday.

“I want no soluble item. I want you to come out on the ocean with me, just to look at the dolphins.”

“I do that everyday,” her husband exclaimed.

“Yes,” Marg replied, “but you do it for a job. A living. It’s a business. I want you to close up shop for today and come out with me.”

“Okay,” her husband replied.

For that day, she and her husband spent the day out on the ocean, hugging and playing with the dolphins. “The best day of my life,” repeated Marg over and over again, laughing.

The dolphins jumped up, understanding. They did a backflip, and Marg caught it on picture.

- - - -

Marg stopped the boat and handed me the net. “You see that clump of weedy looking stuff ahead? Scoop it up.”

She drove the boat forwards slowly while I had the net ready. I scooped it up cleanly. She stopped the boat and took the seaweed from me.

“This seaweed,” she said, looking at it with affection, “is crucial. Without it there would be no living life in the ocean.”

Some important seaweed.

She took a clump and set it on the floor.

Taking a glass jar, she scooped some sea water and put it in the middle of the deck.

Then she took the clump and shook it above the deck.

For a moment, she looked silly, spraying the water over herself.

Then little parasite-like creatures fell out of it. A tiny fish fell out. My cousin, being the clean-freak (not a bad thing) she is, tucked her legs up to the seat, but relaxed when she saw the little fish.

The “other” boy, who I shall call Timmy, understood. He grabbed the fish and put it into the jar of water.

Meanwhile, I took another clump of seaweed and shook it. Some tiny crabs shook out.

“Dolphins love these things,” Marg said, taking the crab gently by the back and dumping it into the jar, looking at them lovingly.

- - - -

It was a sad day for Marg.

She could not go out on the ocean. She could not see the dolphins.

So she sat. And cried.

Life was inbearable without the dolphins. She longed to see them. She longed to be able to touch them. Her memories drifted to those happy days.

This one, however, was not a happy one.

- - - -

It was the end of a long day, almost. Two o’clock in the afternoon. And we had not seen a single dolphin.

Still, Marg’s poor dog had his tail on end, looking for dolphins. He was a dolphin dog, especially trained to listen for dolphins.

At first, he had stood up high, looking for dolphins. Now, after hours, he finally climbed down, as if admitting defeat.

And then we stopped at a Shells gas station.

I gawked at it. A pump was located next to the water, and there were lanes. It was just like a car one, except you couldn’t stand on the water.

Marg hopped off the boat and took out her credit card, using it just like my dad would use a car gas pump.

Marg looked at us, just apparently realizing that we were staring at her. “What? It’s a gas pump.”

“Of course it is,” I said. “There’s a restroom, right?”

“Of course,” replied Marg. “What gas station doesn’t have a restroom?”

“One that I know about,” I replied, smirking, as I went into the shop.

“Kids,” my dad said to Marg.

“Yep. They’re pretty interested with dolphins, too. Did you know that I have this amazing way of telling dolphins apart? You look at the fin…”

Marg had broken into conversation with my dad again. I smiled. She really loved those dolphins.

I got back from the gas station.

“That took you long enough,” she said annoyingly, even though I had only been gone for a minute.

“Sorry, Brad,” my dad explained. “We just got a call from Marg’s husband. He reckons he saw some dolphins out in the South Padre Bay.”

“Jolly good,” I responded, and sat down in the front.

I watched Marg’s concentrated gaze on the ocean as she drove. I looked at the ocean and saw a great white egret fly by. It was like a big swan, shooting into the sky. How lovely.

As it happened, I might have dozed off or something because the next moment, I was looking at a totally different scape.

“Pretty, huh?” Marg’s voice rang out, but there was one thing that was different. She was sitting right next to me.

I might had well flung myself out of the boat being so scared. Who, or what, was controlling the boat? But Timmy was standing there, turning the steering wheel.

I gawked for a second, and made a comeback. “Let me drive!”

Marg replied, “Later after he’s done, ok— DOLPHINS!”

Marg’s dolphin dog was standing on the top of the boat edge quite precariously, one foot on my elbow. He was barking like crazy.

“I JUST SAW A DOLPHIN!” Marg shrieked as she pushed Timmy out of the way and began steering the boat.

The dolphin dog went to the other side of the boat, barking. We followed.

BARK! BARK! BARK!

I snorted. Like that would help.

Only it did. I saw a fin flash, and then a splash. Everyone on the boat screamed.

Another boat with “DOLPHIN WATCHING EXPRESS – ONLY $50” written on it zoomed over. “Ladies and gents, that you see there is there is a dolphin and I—”

He had stopped. Something had fell in the water.

We looked there, expecting a dolphin. It wasn’t. It was Marg’s dolphin watching dog. Apparently he had been leaning too close to the edge.

The other boat cheered as we scooped him up with a net. Everyone was laughing. “He does that every time, you old chum of a dog, don’t ‘chu?” Marg said, giggling.

As my dad took a towel and dried off the dog, he barked again and lept out of the towel. He stood once again on the top.

The dolphins were back.

They lept and the lept over the waves, as if recognizing Marg’s boat. Marg, apparently, had realized them too.

“HEY, CHUDLEY! YOU LITTLE CUTE DOLPHIN, COME ON, CHUDLEY!”

Marg seemed to loose all humanity and was talking with the dolphins like my mom used to talk to me when I was two.

“HALLO, LUMPY! HOW ARE YOU DOING, LITTLE WUMPY? AND WHERE IS BLOOP? AH, THERE HE IS. BLOOP, HOW DO YOU DO?”

I watched as the dolphins jumped once more.

We played with the dolphins for maybe half an hour. Finally, one by one, they left. When the last one left, Marg looked at me. “Time to call it a day?”

“Yea,” I said warily.

We drove back to her home, chatting along the way.

Marg parked her boat.

“You guys have fun?”

“Definitely,” I said, grinning.

“Good,” Marg said, grinning back.