A leap of faith, gratitude
Rescuers of a baby dolphin believe its mom's leap in the air was a sign of thanks.
By JAMAL THALJI
Published March 13, 2007
NEW PORT RICHEY -- After they rescued her baby, the mother dolphin traded one kind of blue for another.
She rocketed toward the sky, all eyes watching. The dolphin hung in midair, just off the bow. Gravity took over and she handled it gracefully, splitting the surface of the water.
Then mother and calf were gone, swimming off into the distance.
What had the dolphin tried to say? Had she tried to say something?
Fred Canalori sure thinks so. So do his 10-year-old twins, Chelsea and Rylea. So does Larry Lavin. They were all on the boat.
They were the rescuers.
"She was saying 'Thank you,' " Chelsea said.
And therein lies a really cool tale - if you believe.
Here's one of the perks of living along the canals in Gulf Harbors: You can stroll into the back yard, lower your 19-foot boat into the clear water, invite a neighbor to go fishing in the Gulf of Mexico and be back for the 3 p.m. NFC championship.
That's just what Canalori, a 38-year-old butcher at Publix, did.
He, his daughters and their friend Lavin were heading toward the gulf on Jan. 21 when they spotted two dolphins headed the same way.
Wait a second.
"The baby just wasn't acting right," Lavin said.
They pulled alongside and saw why: The calf was caught in monofilament fishing line.
It ran around the dorsal fin - the fin on the back - and strangled the rotting right tail fin.
The dolphin could barely swim or dive. It was trapped on the surface.
Mother swam alongside, helpless.
- - -
They tried to call for help: 911, the Marine Patrol, anybody.
Nope. They had to do the rescue themselves. But the calf had just enough life left to kick away from them.
They got their hands on a boat hook. Lavin snagged the fishing line, pulling the wounded dolphin alongside. The calf stopped fighting.
Lavin held the tail in his left hand and cradled his right underneath the belly. Canalori started cutting.
Warily, they watched the mother. And, they swear, she watched them.
She came within inches of them but did nothing save nudge her kid.
Finally, the calf was free. Mother disappeared below the surface.
Next thing they know, it's SeaWorld in Pasco County.
On the boat, silence.
Then, high fives.
"That was awesome," Chelsea told her sis.
"Wow," said Rylea.
Their father turned to Lavin.
"I think she just told us, 'Thank you,' " Canalori said.
- - -
So what this story needs are some scientists to say: Sure, dolphins can say thank you.
Except the St. Petersburg Times couldn't find those scientists.
We found these guys:
"My first question is, how do dolphins know that we like to see them jump?" said Billy Hurley, general manager of animal operations at Marineland near St. Augustine.
Humans misunderstand dolphin behavior all the time, he said. Flipper? Forget it.
So how does SeaWorld get dolphins to jump for all those tourists? Hurley says trainers there are simply reinforcing natural behaviors.
Humans can't imagine what dolphins are thinking. They live down there. We live up here.
"It's one of the most frustrating things for someone studying dolphin behavior," said Randy Wells, dolphin research program manager at Sarasota's Mote Marine Laboratory. "We'd like to think we know what they're thinking, but we don't."
Hurley put it in the most depressing manner possible:
"As a dog owner, can I tell you my dog loves me? Hell, yes," he said. "As a scientist, can I say my dog loves me? No, I can't."
- - -
Science, schmience, says Lavin. He's 64, a native Floridian. He has been around the water all his life, met a lot of dolphins. He knows what he saw that day.
So do the Canaloris.
They have just one thing to say, and it's not to the scientists:
You're welcome.
- Jamal Thalji can be reached at 727 869-6236 or thalji@sptimes.com.
Suggest an Encounter
Encounters is dedicated to small but meaningful stories. Sometimes they will play out far from the tumult of the daily news; sometimes they may be part of the news. To comment or suggest an idea for a story, please contact editor Mike Wilson at mike@sptimes.com or (727)892-2924.
To help
To report any stranded or entangled marine mammals, call the Florida Fish and Wildlife Conservation Commission toll-free at 1-888-404-3922.