Unsolicited Testimony

In 2018, we traveled to Tanzania to do the northern circuit. After a multi-day safari, we spent a few days in Zanzibar. Stonetown was a beautiful town — I remember wandering through the market in the evening, watching kittens play in the stalls.

One of the things we decided to do, as decent swimmers, was to go find the wild dolphins. He arranged the trip and paid for transport. We got to the water and were walked out to a tiny johnboat — barely big enough for four people. Our boat driver spoke just enough English.

We headed out into the Indian Ocean. And we kept going. And going. For what felt like a full 45 minutes.

Then, in the middle of nowhere, he cut the motor.

“Okay jump.”

I was confused. What did he just say? He looked at us and said: “Look down.”

Beneath the boat was a pod of about 200 wild dolphins. I couldn’t get out of that boat fast enough.

You could hear them — their clicks and squeaks filled the water. You could tell the young ones apart, playful and darting, from the adults moving with quiet confidence. There were even tiny calves.

They didn’t seem afraid. More annoyed. All we had to do was float on the surface and let them move around us.

We got two more jumps after following them for a while. The last one was a mama and her baby, moving slowly together. She was in no hurry — clearly matched to the baby’s pace. It had to have been a newborn. It was the tiniest dolphin I had ever seen.

She let us observe her at a respectful distance and never seemed bothered by us.

Sometimes, it’s just time to jump.