Hello Whale Tales podcast listeners. My name is Emily Cunningham and I’m a marine biologist and ocean conservationist from England. I spent much of the last year working on board and expedition ship in Antarctica and South America. And today I’m going to share a dolphin tale with you all. And I share my adventures in marine science and conservation on Instagram @marinebiologylife. So please do come and say hi, they’re always keen to meet other whale and dolphin fans.
And my story begins deep in the bowels of the expedition ship I work on. And I was fully dressed in all of my gear, and waiting for the green light from the captain that we could launch our zodiacs. Zodiacs are a kind of inflatable boat that we use for our expedition and science activities. So I was down there, and my phone rang with a call from my colleague on the bridge. Emily, there are Commerson’s dolphins alongside the ship. And we just spent 13 days sailing down the Atlantic Ocean. During that time I had talked incessantly about Commrson’s Dolphins was a dolphin I had never seen before, and my crewmates all knew how much I wanted to see one. I was on standby to deploy a Zodiac. I was at work. And I looked across the big shell door in the side of the ship. It was firmly closed. And yet there were Commerson’s Dolphins just the other side of it completely hidden from me. I felt like this might be my only chance in my whole life that I might get to see them. What if they were gone by the time I quit my zodiac. I had to take the chance. “Back in two minutes” I announced to my crewmates before running for the stairwell. So we were in the Falkland Islands. And we were making a short stopover on our journey from Europe to Antarctica. And it was early spring and so I was dressed for cold temperature, wind and rain. So that means I was wearing thermal base layers, mid layers, warm layers, waterproof outer layers, huge rubber boots, and a life jacket. And I had decided to run up six flights of stairs hoping to see a dolphin.
Now I first heard about Commerson’s dolphins when I was a child. I was a dolphin mad child. I had one painted on my bedroom wall. I was already firmly set on becoming a marine biologist. And so I was completely overjoyed when I learned about the tiny black and white dolphins that they called the Sea Panda, the Commerson’s dolphins, and I had read in a book that I borrowed from the library that Commerson’s Dolphins were found in the waters around the southern tip of South America as well as the Kerguelen Islands. But I’d never ever dreamed that I’d get the chance to see them with my own eyes.
So back to me running up six flights of stairs in full expedition gear. By the time I reached deck five of the ship, I burst through the doors out into the open deck completely breathless and sweating buckets. Before me it was a sweeping view of Saunders Island, the fourth largest of the over 700 islands that make up the Falkland Islands archipelago. A rounded Greenhill dominated the skyline fringed by a spectacular white sandy beach and as your blue waters. But as if to remind me that I was over 50 degrees south of the equator, despite the tropical looking waters, a freezing wind whipped up off the Atlantic Ocean and stung my cheeks. As I caught my breath, I peered over the railings, my eyes darting from wave to wave in fruitless hope of seeing a dolphin. Wave, wave, wave, dolphin! Immediately below me, unmistakable black and white of a Commerson’s dolphin was coursing through the clear blue water like a bottle rocket. It zipped along the ship surfacing for a split second to breathe before disappearing from view.
Excitement cost through me like electricity. I cheered, jumped up and down and did a happy dance. And then a second one appeared. Then a third, a fourth, a fifth, a six. A seven. A bird’s eye view me on deck looking down. Seven Commerson’s dolphins zooming around the ship. Lucky me. Commerson’s dolphins have a rounded black fin, black head, black tail and a pure white body. They’re one of the smallest cetaceans in the world, and their unique black and white coloration gives them the nickname of sea panda. They’re stocky and short, more like a porpoise in their build, but they are indeed a dolphin. So I was totally lost in the moment enjoying my view of the dolphins when the shrill ring of my phone brought me back to reality. No more time to stand on the deck watching dolphins I had work to do, it’s time to go back down to deploy my zodiac.
So I ran back downstairs at a speed that would have given Usain Bolt a fair challenge, and jumped into a Zodiac being lowered into the water and prayed with all my mind that the dolphins would still be there. And as my colleagues and I headed to shore in our zodiac, me as a passenger, don’t worry, I wasn’t driving. I was scanning the waves constantly hoping for a close up view of those same Commerson’s dolphins. But all I saw was waves, waves, waves. Waves. At least I saw them from the ship, I reasoned with myself after 15 minutes of nothing but waves trying to sue the crushing disappointment grip in my heart. I turned around to focus on the view instead, trying to take in the white sands and turquoise waters. When of course, a little black fin broke the surface less than 20 meters in front of me. And immediately our boatload of seasoned marine scientists, naturalists and expedition guides, we all turned into giddy children. And we watched with oops, and squeals of unbridled joy as the same seven, maybe more, Commerson’s dolphins approached our zodiac, their little black faces turning towards us to check us out, a mutual curiosity. And that’s the thing I love most about cetaceans, that intrigue is mutual.
I’m incredibly lucky to have had many interactions with whales, dolphins, and porpoises all around the world. But the most magical of those interactions are where you make and maintain eye contact with them. It’s where a wild and free creature chooses to come and investigate you on their own terms. And then they stick around because they’re curious. It’s those moments of interspecies communication between me and a wild cetacean are extremely special. It’s when we scientists mask slips and when I let myself be a dolphin my eight year old wants more. I don’t know how long the Commerson’s dolphins stayed with us. Maybe two minutes, maybe 20. But the memories of the sea panders bow riding alongside our zodiac twisting and turning as they swam beneath us and their repeated approaches, heads tilted to check us out. They will stay with me forever.
-Emily
This post was adapted from a voice recording in episode 56 of the Whale Tales Podcast, listen here.
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