muddy dolphins

What's the difference between the bottlenose dolphins that live in Georgia's estuaries and the bottlenose dolphins all over the world?

Our dolphins like to roll up on a muddy riverbank to snap up fish!

No other dolphins exhibit that behavior.

In the 3400 miles of shoreline formed by the marshy lands of the five Georgia rivers that empty into the Atlantic Ocean, these dolphins have learned how to maximize their eating efforts, and adapted their physiology as well.

It's amazing.

That's just one of the things I learned at The Dolphin Project's Research Training Workshop I attended this morning.

 

Taught by Peach Hubbard, one of the Skippers who lend their boats and their time to the monthly trips to the estuaries to gather data, I was impressed by all the information on these unique marine mammals living along Georgia's 100-mile coastline.

Wait, that math doesn't seem to add up... or does it?

Oh, it does, most definitely.

 

As the crow flies between South Caroline and Florida, Georgia does have a 100-mile coastline, but that's just part of the story. Taking a boat and riding that distance all along the many inlets and nooks, the turns and loops, that 100 miles becomes expanded more than three hundredfold.

Without The Dolphin Project's scientific work these past four decades, I have to wonder how many Tybee Beach visitors might have ever had the delight of seeing the dolphins swimming along the shore?

I have, and it's a marvel to me to know they play in the surf just as we do.

That doesn't mean they are tame creatures, though.

One look at that mouth full of sharp teeth and that muscular body is a reminder that these animals live in the wild and that we need to respect their lives.

No feeding the dolphins!

No swimming with the dolphins!

No contaminating of their environment!

That's all part of the Federal Marine Mammal Protection Act.

I'm glad I'm part of the One Hundred Mile advocacy program to fight for their rights.

I'm glad I was part of the STERI program in high school and learned about respecting the natural fauna and flora in our marshes and rivers and ocean.

I'm glad I signed up for this research training today.

What will I do now?

Twenty-seven years ago, when I was given a gift certificate by my husband to participate in this research training, I wanted to be part of the expeditions on the water.

Is that what I want now?

I don't know that answer yet, but I know this: I'm ready for a change.

i must go down to the sea again

I have fingernails.

Oh, really? How very nice for you. Next!

No, you don't understand, clearly. There are white-tipped nails at the ends of my fingers. There are white-tipped nails at the ends of ALL of my fingers. This is unusual. You're talking to someone who doesn't remember having to ever clip her fingernails.

What?! Everyone clips their nails! Oh, you mean a manicurist takes care of the nails.

No. No, that is not it at all. I've had the habit of biting my fingernails ever since I was young. On rare occasions, I'd take a break for a few days, throw some polish on them, make them look nice for some special event. Then, as soon as the event was done, the nails went, too. Not that I consciously bit my nails; if I was sitting still for any length of time, the nails were between my teeth, nibble, nibble.

Well, if you could stop for a special event, then you could have stopped any time. Why didn't you try some of those nasty tasting lotions to get you to stop for good?

Oh, I did try those "end nail biting forever" remedies, but you know what? They didn't work. I was never that serious about ending the habit, I would seek out the remedy to try to please someone else and end the nagging. Biting my nails was natural for me; stopping seemed perverse.

So, what's the deal now? Why have you stopped?

I don't know.

No, there must be some reason why you have deliberately stopped the habit after all these years. How long has it been now?

That's just it: I don't truly know. I recall noticing before my vacation that I had fingernails. Ever since - hm, March? April? - I had been applying some clear nail polish that I really liked. It's very shiny and looks perpetually wet and made me feel more "girly", even though I doubt anyone else took note. I even stopped picking on my cuticles so much, because I liked the way the polish looked and didn't want to detract from that shine at the ends of my fingers. Every couple of weeks, I'd notice a dull area between the base of the nails and the cuticles and would take a few minutes to remove the old polish and apply a fresh coat. I guess I didn't pay attention to what that gap in the shine meant.
I don't recall making a conscious decision to stop my nail biting. But perhaps my subconscious had made the decision for me and it simply has taken this long for me to stop and wonder about it.
Maybe the decision is a result of a new wave rising from the depths, a blip on my inner radar which could not be ignored, an image rousing me to take notice.
This change is good. Maybe a bit scary, too, but I'm going to see where this next adventure will take me.
After all, I have white-tipped fingernails now at the end of each of my fingers so a sea change has already begun...

sea change

This evening I had a moment of clarity. While in a karaoke club with new friends, listening to an old friend sing a Matchbox 20 favorite, I realized that maybe I was healing. I was back in my own skin again, at least for the moment.
I was finally living again, rather than going through the motions. THAT was a welcome feeling!
As you are well aware, I've been more and more aware of having been sleepwalking through the last decade. Part of it was due to Mama's death, no lie. But then having a part of me turned off became an addictive habit. I was definitely unwell.
The divorce was a shock to my system, jolting me back into this world. I wasn't quite awake yet, but I was starting to find signs of life and I reacted by bringing color into my environment, stripping wallpaper borders and painting Sunwashed Blue and Aged Mint and Valencia Violet, with some Jasmine Time. When I returned home in the evenings, the off-white walls were covered over with Maize Gold and Lifevest Orange, trimmed out with Surfboard Yellow. Warm, vibrant re-entry accompanied by cool ocean hues and a throwback to my childhood haven.
After four years of daily contact with my new colors of home, I seem to be me again.
After four years of immersing myself into different cultural experiences, absorbing knowledge in the form of film, theatre, music, art, I seem to be me again.
After four years of loss of old friends and gain of new companions, I seem to be me again.
What a long, strange trip it's been! I know it isn't over, not by a long shot, but at least I'm awake to enjoy the scenery.