Madeira sunset: Jose and the dolphins

Backblip

Friend H and I arrived at Funchal, Madeira, last night. We managed to go out to the old town for dinner (seafood paella) and get our bearings, which wasn't hard because I had stayed at the same hotel in April last year, with a different friend, GG. 

Today's first activity, after an excellent buffet  breakfast, was a planning session. Last year I'd worked out that activities and experiences, although offered by many companies, tend to get booked up very quickly, or to differ from what is offered in the leaflet. For example, "This walk does not exist" might be a standard response to a request for an advertised trip.

We worked out what we would like to do, separately and together, then went to reception to book it. Three hours later (the receptionist did answer a lot of calls in between) we had a completely different plan, including, on the fourth attempt, a sunset cruise from Funchal for myself. 

Unfortunately H is risk-averse and doesn't want to do anything involving boats or other craft; heights; tunnels; walks of more than a few km; walking along narrow streets without pavements. For her, danger lurks everywhere.  She doesn't really enjoy food either. For this reason, we will be following different daytime agendas, but she has consented to go out to dinner every night. 

After lunch for her (sardine sandwich) we went out to the seafront park, got ice cream (my lunch) and wandered around until we stumbled upon a giant stage where women and girls wearing elaborate floral costumes of every hue were doing dance displays for the annual Flower Festival. We watched for a while, checked out the marina from whence I'd be departing later, and returned to the hotel.

H started lapping the pool. I was probably still on a quest for knowledge. Packed up and left, went back to the marina for my boat trip. Was far too early, so watched some more dancing. The catamaran docked, and passengers got off. I noticed a crew member swilling the decks and mopping. 

The skipper's safety instructions were minimal. The only part I now remember was along the lines of,  "If you want to throw up, ask Jose for a bag. Jose has bags. After you finish, you throw out the bag. We do not want vomit on the boat. It is not pleasant to clean the vomit. You must have a very strong stomach to do this work".

We set off. I'd never been on a catamaran before. I was terribly afraid I might need to seek out Jose of the plastic bags. An idea had been planted.

 Nonetheless, I got used to the motion, and Jose busied himself astern with binoculars, scanning for dolphins, whales or turtles. After forty minutes and a few false starts, he instructed the skipper to cut the engine, and suddenly the pod of dolphins that he had seen feeding some distance away, left off feeding and came to surround the craft on either side,  turning, flipping, leaping and  definitely engaging with the vessel. I could easily see a dozen at one time.

Jose's body language had changed. He was leaning forward, conducting the dolphins like a slow orchestral movement, speaking soft words. They responded by staying to play, ignoring their feeding completely, until at last the skipper said that we had to move on. The dolphins raced alongside, trying to keep up when the engine was restarted. I saw Jose blow them a farewell kiss.

Later, I caught up with Jose in the galley and asked  him how he had learned to be a dolphin-whisperer. He said that such skills couldn't be taught, but he had had the privilege of working with two different communities in the Amazon, in Peru, and had learned how to give love, or energy, to living creatures. 'Dolphins need love, too' he said. 

We chatted some more, about the wildlife of the UK. Jose said he had lived in the UK for a long time, near Bath. 'That's funny' I said. 'I live near Bath too'. 

You can guess the rest....Jose lived not just near Bath, but in Stroud! Drank at the Woolpack, whose landlord was the brother of my former neighbour. Of all the cruise boats in all the world...clearly I was meant to be on the Atlantic Pearl, and no other craft, with Jose, formerly of Stroud, Gloucestershire; the man who can communicate with dolphins. 

The rest of the cruise was good too, by which I mean the sunset and views of remote villages, not the constant sale of drinks and the doof-doof of 'party music'. I'm an older person now, (and by the way, skipper, if you don't want vomit on your boat, maybe don't sell as much booze? )

Eventually we made it back to the marina, without incident, and disembarked. I walked back through the old town, soaking up the atmosphere of narrow cobbled streets packed with hole in the wall restaurants, tables spread across the street, all the Maitres and waiters touting for business.

Tonight's encounter with Jose and the dolphins has touched me deeply. I will not forget it. I'll try to post some (very bad) shots in Extras tomorrow, when the light is better.