Air Assault

The other day I was sitting on a boat. Dressed in a fashionable bright orange survival suit, I felt confident that I could handle anything that the Universe threw at me. There was a chill in the air as the winds started to pick up from the south. The nearest piece of land lying to the south being Antarctica, southerlies usually mean cold. And wet. So we (my friend Jody who asked me to come all this way and help with her masters project for three months, and I) were cautiously returning to our temporary research base and home at French Pass, a tiny settlement on the northern tip of the southern island of New Zealand. The day had not been terribly productive, as our two hours of boat survey had not spotted any dolphins.

As our 5 metre long semi-inflatable hopped along against the wind, I spotted some splashing off to port. Normally, this is caused by diving birds and sometimes betrays the presence of dolphins. The dusky dolphins in the area feed on schooling fish that they herd together as a group. The diving birds, mostly gannets (aka boobies), add to the assault from the sky. I immediatley point in the direction and Jody steers the little boat toward it. Soon, amongst the splashes, we see a few distinctly dolphin fins slicing through the water's surface. Finally, a group of animals that we've been searching for!

I take out a data sheet and start recording environmental conditions and location and such. Jody maneuvers the boat into position and turns off the engine. Were about 50 metres away from the action. She prepares the camera that we will use to take photo identification shots of the dolphins' fins.

Within a few moments, the situation starts to change.

Somewhere in the murky water below is a school of fish. They are being coralled toward the surface by about forty dolphins working as a team. Around 100 gannets, with a wingspan of one metre, are circling overhead. The same number of other smaller birds are paddling at the surface, sticking their heads down to see what's going on below.

All eyes are pointing down. And shifting in our direction.

It seems that the fish have moved closer to our boat.

Without warning, the attack begins. The first bombs are dropped within ten metres of the bow. Jody screams. I look up from my data sheets and manage to utter: “Omigod...”

The large gannets drop from orbit, sometimes 20 metres in the air. They fold their wings back, stretch out their necks, and give 'er. "Thwack!!" From a few metres away, the sound is like, well, a big bird diving into the water right beside you. First one. Then three. And then five at a time, they descend onto their submerged victims. I'm reminded of X-wings smashing into a liquid planet (I recently watched the new Star Wars). They hit with aweful force. The birds are going fast enough that they can dive down to over 50 metres (yes, they do swim a bit).

Jody screams again. The assault continues just off the bow. Now, the dolphins surface and dive again, right amongst the plunging birds. How they don't get harpooned by a beak, I don't know.

All of a sudden, the ocean begins to bubble. All around us, birds are being launched up and out of the water. Hang on. This is all too confusing. Dolphins coming up, birds going down. Dolphins going down, birds coming up. Once they've caught their fish, they head back to the surface and, being super buoyant, pop out looking as though nothing out of the ordinary has just happened.