Hurricane Alley
#2 of Lost at Sea prt.2- Good Tidings
**Chapter 1- Hurricane Alley
#1, date 8/22/08**
"Gregory?"
Dolphins are the oddest animals. You could consider a platypus or deep-sea krill equally as odd, but they are not; they're just different. Everything seems natural to them but almost alien to people because, technically, it all is. A dolphin, on the other hand, holds too many resemblances to man. They have intelligence unseen in the animal kingdom, as well as strong needs for social interaction. Like man, they also kill and rape over a single contrast. Many believe the three super mammals- humans, apes and dolphins- all originated from the same ancestor. And with the similarities, it's hard to argue otherwise. But even if dolphins could be man's oldest ancestor, they continue to awe us with their differences.
The main variation between man and the dolphins is they use coitus as a tool in communication. Swim belly to belly, and two friends or pod-mates will show their bond's strength through gentle or playful mating. Chase and swoop, and you'll know these dolphins are friends in an orgy or trying to show dominance. Though the most common reason behind cetacean sex is- well, it feels great! In any given pod, spanning oceans and sea-parks, you might find a young dolphin-a calf- mating with its mother. You wouldn't be surprised to find two males docking sheaths, their tail holes too small for entry. It's possible even to see anywhere from four to eighteen male dolphins taking turns on a single female.
Many are shocked to learn this. How is the most good-natured, intelligent, family-friendly animal icon really a sex-crazed pervert? Is it still possible to go to Sea World without strange thoughts? Did they ever have to rescue Sandy when Flipper got too randy? If these questions weren't so silly, there might be an answer available.
"Gregory."
Weird questions. Real questions from normal, sincere people. This proves that when it comes to curiosity, both species are equally unbiased about it. Simply put, humans and dolphins are both relentless when it comes to getting their questions answered. Scientists affirm that the dolphin brain is not only larger than but also equally as complex as a human's is. Yet, any dolphin will go ballistic when it finds a shiny object on the seabed. The reason? The object is new. While humans have a vast collection of theories and facts, dolphins can only guess over things their parents never taught.
"Gregory!"
Curiosity! It fuels knowledge, right? Wasn't that how the saying went?
"Hey, wake up!"
Maybe it was the one about cat killing. But that's just morbid. If they like fish too, they can't be all that bad.
SMACK!
"Huh?"
Oh, I was micro sleeping. I miss dreaming, but it is sort of nice to relax and have a philosophical trip.
The sea around me suddenly came into view. Before, it would look like a desert of opal blue. Now, thanks to a trained eye and super senses, there was almost too much to take in. Whales singing miles in the distance, sharks patrolling for prey, assorted species zipping between the weeds and rocks either in pursuit or in avoiding it- and those are just what you can see and hear. I can tell the water around me has extra brine, meaning either my mate or I had to relieve ourselves recently. The water feels warmer, much more than usual, and the wind above is churning up the sea. Yes, it is very much alive.
But there was only one creature alive that made me thankful it was so. And there she hovered in the current, her fleshy tail gyrating the water around her to keep still. When her tail came my direction, I could see a large, circular patch of white on her flank. I felt a twinge of guilt and looked elsewhere. Along her deep silver body I could see minute, black scars, marks from her younger years. I could see her underbelly as well, for it curved towards the seabed at a sharper angle than yesterday. Only two seasons left before she gave birth, six months too many.
"Good morning, Isthia"
The last I could remember, we were hunting several miles out from the shallows. The schools were easy to round up and shave off without a seabed getting in the way. I'd gotten my fill and rested, never actually sleeping without the risk of drowning. Before we'd found a suitable sized school, Isthia had mentioned something about approaching danger. Since I couldn't see or taste any blood in the water I figured sharks weren't it.
"Good morning, Gregory" Isthia responded, her voice and body language normal- but shady. "Feeling better? That chase must've worn you out."
We pumped our tails in unison, tilting port and starboard just right to cut through cross-currents. Swimming to dolphins was much like breathing to humans; while doing it we never gave it much thought, but consciously acknowledging it made our inner rhythm lose track- yeah, try it when you breathe. We never swam to anywhere in particular, mostly because there was too much space to cover. It was never about where to go, but how far before we were satisfied.
"A little bit, yeah. Damn fine fish, I gotta say, but they were acting awfully strange. Did you notice that?"
Isthia spun to her left, pushed by a current. I followed quickly. "No, I didn't. How strange?"
"Well, it was like they didn't even care we were after them. I know fish are stupid, but I didn't have to buzz a single one. They even balled up in just a few minutes."
That sort of behavior was odd. Understandably, a school will realize we're nearby and try to scatter, leaving the weak ones to be eaten. Today though, they moved inwards and kept in a tight ball. This made plucking the fattest fish off the edges far too easy.
Isthia didn't reply. My mate could be called many things, and vocal was one of them. To not hear a ready reply was indeed something to be concerned about.
"Love? A penny for your thoughts."
Whatever Isthia was about to say was caught before escaping. Dolphins don't have idioms, nor an equivalent, which is why I loved using them. Isthia despised knowing I could confuse her about something.
"I mean, tell me what you're thinking. You're obviously worried about something." Still, she swam silently, bumping me off course by accident in the strong undercurrent. That wind churned this sea up something fierce.
"Well..." she began, eliciting a twinge of fear within me. Be it crass, be it blunt, be it miles out of the blue, my mate always said what was on her mind without hesitation. That is, unless it was news that couldn't be broken easily.
"Well? Well what! Give!"
She shot a glare; a glare of annoyance. "Gregory, this is very serious. You've seen how bad the wind is at the surface, and its starting to mix up these-" once again she bumped into me, pushing me into an impromptu barrel roll. "-currents. Yeah, you see? And the water is much warmer than usual. I haven't been alive very long, love, but lately I've noticed these signs occur more frequently. Two years ago it was almost constant."
I rolled my eyes around some, trying to regain equilibrium. "Ok, Isthia, I think I see where you're going."
"Exactly. Only this time, it's much worse. MUCH worse, Gregory. Years ago, the signs weren't this strong. But I have a bad feeling about this one, love. A HORRIBLE feeling."
I tilted my head vertically as my tail hit a downbeat, propelling my body upwards. As I felt the tip of my dorsal fin break the surface, I cocked my tail up and arched my back. Forcing all the air out of my lungs, I quickly opened my blowhole and let the sea breeze push itself into my body before the waves blocked the sun's scorching rays from my back. The blowhole slammed shut and I whipped my tail down, propelling myself back to Isthia's level. "Ouch. Its so hard to get near the surface for air. Maybe we're near the equator."
"Sigh... We're still in the gulf. Only a hundred and eighty miles from the shore. That's why I'm worried."
Denying it wouldn't solve a thing. She knew humans could figure out hurricanes before they happen (funky magic', the word she learned on the same radio this information came from) and I knew it too. There was no doubt this was the right weather to spawn a hurricane. And to know in addition that the ones that form in the Caribbean were awful, this one would be catastrophic.
"Gregory..." Shutting my left eye, I could see Isthia best out of the one closest to her. I knew she demanded my full attention. "It's about our daughter."
Ocean? What ocean? Suddenly I could only see and hear Isthia. "What about her? Love, what's wrong with her?"
"No no. There's nothing wrong with her." I was able to see a small flash of a smile in her eyes, which threw me slightly off guard. "It's the Gulf. These storms are coming quicker and stronger with each season. I've seen plenty of them, but hurricanes are different when you're actually in the water. That's why I'm worried. She wouldn't be able to rough out storms as bad as these; even the oldest dolphins end up getting beached in the process. This area simply isn't safe if things continue the way they are."
Both eyes closed. What terrible thoughts ran through my mind shouldn't be dictated. It was a smorgasbord of images, both from the lives of past and present. I saw my wife Aimee sobbing to herself in the recovering room rather than the maternity ward, after hearing the news our child didn't take their first breath. I could see the child's toys and clothes being given, not sold, to friends while she looked on in gloom. How hard we'd both worked to have a well-adjusted attitude to childbirth, only to have it blow up in our face. I knew Aimee would've cared for our child as well as any mother would; my regret was not being able to hold my son or daughter, and I would've done anything to do so. Oh, and my unborn daughter! What precious reward would be lost if I didn't get her out of safety? Any male dolphin would scoff (or in their case, chuff) at such an idea as caring for the calf, but I didn't see her as a threat- she is the new life I'd missed out on before! Oh, and to see a sinister sky painted over a wind-churned sea, my poor daughter swimming only to keep herself in place...and her tail locks up, the wind and waves swooping her into a surge that batters the harbor city streets-
"Gregory? Gregory! Are you alright?"
Isthia...she'd saved the imagination of my old life from scrambling my current brain again.
"What? What's wrong?"
She'd circled back around and was now at my other side, her underbelly tilted my way only a margin. Her pectoral fin brushed my flank numerous times, lowering my pulse. "That's what I'm asking you. Why were you whimpering like that?"
"I...just too many old memories. And some future memories." I picked my words carefully, not daring to let on exactly what I'd been envisioning. Isthia had an uncanny knack for that.
She slowly released a bit of air. I watched the bubbles rise to the surface. "You're worried about her too, then? I thought so...honestly, she was the only thing resting uneasy on my mind. If we remove the Gulf, we remove the danger."
There was that knack, God bless her. Even if she knew what I was thinking she dragged it out of me until I could only help but acknowledge it.
"Okay, Isthia...you win. I mean, you're right. Our daughter shouldn't have to grow up in these conditions. Hurricane Alley, that's what the Gulf's become. She deserves to grow up out in the open sea, facing problems she can learn to avoid and defeat." Sharks are far less frightening as a hurricane, at least in our ways.
Isthia began to slow her pace. While before she'd been trying to pull the main idea by giving me the cold stare, her stony face suddenly filled with respite and relief that looked absolutely stunning. I would suffer through hours, even days, of her icy stare if I knew she'd be just as gorgeous as before once I'd accredited her idea. It was the driving force behind my childish ignorance.
"That's great, Gregory, but the question is- where do we go? We can't go south; the storms would only be worse there. If we go west we'd never escape the gulf and hold a higher chance of becoming beached. Our only option is east."
Oh boy, another argument. Better get some ice with your drink, Greggy.
"East? That's where the old pod went. No offense to your family, but I'd rather not see any of them again. Except Spinner, but you know how strong her herd mentality' is. No, we should go north along the US coast."
Isthia sighed, reaching her limit and surfacing to catch a breath. I waited patiently for her to sink the few meters to me.
"Derryl came from the northeastern coast. The few times I asked him- or, rather, Otis- about the area he said the sharks were just as bad, the storms had higher surges, and the only difference was the temperature. You don't have enough body fat to stand the water."
To dolphins, being called skinny was an insult. "Now, just a minute-"
"No, only a second. Time's up. Now, anyway, the northeast wouldn't be our best option."
I chuffed, forgetting I was below the surface. After rushing up to get rid of the water and catch some air, I spiraled down to Isthia's level.
"Well then, what's your plan? We have to go somewhere, but none of these ideas work."
"Hmm...I've got it. We sit here and scan the water around us. There's got to be a current along here."
So, we sat. I moved closer to Isthia, resting my melon (head) upside down on top of her cape (area of back between blowhole and dorsal fin). She started to scan first, then I cut in. The ocean appeared to light up around us. It was water before, but now we could see every miniscule plankton and every whirlpool created by the churning of the sea. It went on for miles, the water a simple black and all objects within our line of sight as grayish, high definition blurbs. We scanned for what felt like hours, until I let out an annoyed click and grunted, "What good is THIS going to do, Isthia? We're probably too far away from the-"
"Oh! Oh! I found it!"
"Hah! I knew it! Where's it at?"
Isthia swam in small, tight circles squealing at top pitch, an almost embarrassing caricature for happy dolphins. "It's to the north! We can catch that and take it down along Florida, then southeast to open, safer waters! Oh Gregory! We're going to make it out this time!"
While she cheered, I'd been searching in vain for the current. It was then that something killed whatever enthusiasm I'd had before.
"Uh...Isthia...how far away is the current?"
"Oh, probably fifty miles at the closest part. That's the best part!"
"And which way is the Florida tip?"
"You brine-stained fish! Why does that matter?"
"Well...if you can find the tip of the Florida coast, face about ten degrees south. You'll see."
She didn't protest much, just tilted on her side and waved her fins, in disregard of dignity while under the influence of joy. Her echolocation came to an abrupt stop, cut off like a drunkard's fingers in shop class. "Oh...that's not good."
"Not good? That's a hurricane. I hope it's not, but the water in that area doesn't match the rest of the sea....here, I'll check at the surface."
I tilted completely vertical and began my ascent, spiraling to cut through the water with less resistance. Once at the surface, I let my head fall forward without moving my body. I took no notice of the relentless sunbeams pelting my back. Sure enough, out in the distance almost too far to fathom, a faint wall of grey stood out like a bruise against the slightly cloudy sky. I heard a chuff next to me and saw my mate spy-hopping (the maneuver I just told you about) next to me. Her eyes deepened in fear.
"Gregory...that's right in our way! What are we going to do??"
I closed my eyes slowly. "We're going to go. What else can we do? If we wait, it'll still get to us. We're better off trying to find shelter when it gets too bad..."
She listened, but never once did I see her pupil face my way. They were deadlocked on the disturbing clouds out in the distance. I turned her way and flicked my tail lightly, just enough to push my rostrum up and over hers. I pressed slightly, feeling no resistance from her own bottle-nose. My backup (i.e., my pec fin) began to caress along her side and underbelly beneath the surface. She shivered only slightly, her eyes closing somewhat. To see her scared filled me with utter hopelessness, but I knew she needed a little push before she could take leadership of the expedition.
"Isthia, I know you're scared. Believe me, I'm frightened. But you know as well as I do that staying here will only make it worse. Right now you're carrying the very reason we're migrating in the first place, and neither of us can let her down. No matter what happens on this trip, my life will always be moments away from being taken just so you and her can live. The storm will be rough to swim through, but we're better to stay close to land and hope that will steer it away from our path. Our only chance is now, to get into the current as quickly as possible. I love you, and I know you love me, and we both love our daughter...that's why we need to be brave and get this long journey started as soon as possible. Alright?"
I never stopped stroking Isthia's body. As my words became more encouraging, her flippers fluttered a little under the water. Whatever convincing she'd needed, I must've succeeded in that task. We pulled our head down below the waves, pausing to bask in the refreshing chill of the saltwater. Isthia touched her rostrum to mine and buzzed me, causing my mind to scatter in ecstasy.
"Gregory, I'll see to it that your life is never threatened as bad that calls for sacrifice. We'll only make it if we stay together, and I mean CLOSE together, or any shark or surge will separate us in some way. But once we're in the clear, open sea...we'll know it was worth it. Won't we?"
I opened my rostrum and pressed my tongue to Isthia's rostrum tip. She twittered pleasantly, the sound that never failed to make my bones turn to mush.
"Yes, my mate, we will. And our daughter will never know the life she missed out on having. Better not to let her know, maybe. Let her only know the life we've given to her. We ought to start leaving, though. That last wave nearly rolled me over."
Isthia gave a click for agreement. We used our echolocation, buzzing all surrounding areas, until we found the remnants of the gulf current. It would pass us along all the southern US states, and down the inner coast of Florida. If we were lucky, the hurricane would curve past us once it hit the Florida peninsula. We didn't count on it, but it was the only thing that gave us a sense of security.
Isthia, my personal GPS, was the first to find the current. She hesitated for a moment, then darted off in what looked like any random direction. I watched her tail rise and fall as she swam, seeing her pregnancy-diagnosed underbelly sway in the current. She had to call me before I could even think of swimming after her.
END OF CHAPTER 1