Marooned in Paradise

At 45, I could no longer take the pressure of Wall Street. I sold out and bought the Sail Fish, a one-masted cabin cruiser. After a year of sailing the Caribbean Sea, I had become a decent sailor. The time alone after the press of the crowd in New York City was a decadent luxury.

It was late afternoon, and the sea was calm. I was running about four knots against the wind when a fat old sea lion shot out of the sea on a wave and landed on the deck of the Sail Fish. A pod of angry Orca swam around the Sail Fish.

Two of the big ones started to ram the boat. I put on my life vest. Three hits, things started to get thrown around. Five hits, the framing started to creak and crack. Ten hits and the Sail Fish was coming apart. I called on the radio, as the GPS went dark. The vessel was sinking fast. The radio seemed dead, and I was unsure if it was working.

“Mayday, Mayday, Mayday. This is the Sail Fish! I am under attack by Orca. The boat is breaking up. I am abandoning ship and launching the emergency life raft. The boat is sinking fast, and I must leave now,” I said.

The life raft was hard to get into. The Orca kept swimming around me, and I felt uneasy. I could not believe it—I was in a rubber life raft. The Sail Fish was gone. I could hear an Orca. It got louder. Suddenly, everything went upside down, and supplies went everywhere. Once more, I was in the water. Then, an Orca tail hit me.

I don’t remember much after that. Somehow, I was put back in the raft. A pod of dolphins swam around the raft. I was very groggy and slipped in and out of consciousness. The dolphins were gathering my things and putting them in the life raft with me. For hours, the pod of dolphins kept the Orca and sharks away. When I woke up the next day, the sun was shining. I was surrounded by the loose supplies that had scattered when the Orca hit me. Some of my ribs were bruised, if not cracked. It hurt to breathe.

I took an inventory. All the ‘tronics were thrashed—nothing worked. I had a week’s worth of supplies. There was a solar still that would produce a small amount of water from seawater and the sun. That’s when I noticed I was moving. A dolphin was pulling the tow rope. After a while, the dolphin tired, and another took its place. The dolphins would rest every few hours. This went on for a day and a half, then I spied an island to which I seemed to be taken.

When I was brought into the lagoon, the dolphins made a big ruckus, and a pretty young woman of about 30 appeared. She made some squeaks to the dolphins, and the dolphin squeaked back. She did not seem happy.

I stood up, and she said, “Hello, I’m Vicky. Are you badly hurt?”

“No, couple bruised ribs,” I said. “I’m Glenn. Your friends brought me here.”

“They said a gang of mean Orca attacked you,” Vicky said. “They had to scare them off. It sounds like they were playing with you before they were going to eat you. Sometimes the Orca gangs are worse than the sharks.”

“Is there a way off the island?” I asked.

“Well, yes, but it takes eight more weeks,” Vicky said. “I’m marooned here by myself for twelve weeks with my pod of dolphins. It’s a challenge of sorts if I can prove that I can survive with only what my dolphin pod brings me. I’m trying to win a contract to do month-long isolated getaways at $10,000 a person with up to ten people. If I call in tomorrow and say you want to be rescued, they will send a ship. That will end this application this season. I will have to wait until next season, and somebody else could try to compete with me for a different type of experience. Say that you will stay marooned with me for the rest of the eight weeks when I call in in the morning.”

I said, “I don’t know what to think. You’re cute and all but eight weeks marooned on an island. There is the insurance claim for the boat, and what am I going to eat?”

“You can have the insurance filled out over the radio. The dolphins will bring us food from the sea. What do you like? You can be like one of my clients. I’ll care for you. Would you mind staying with me? Don’t ruin the test, please. This is my one big shot. I don’t have anything else to offer,” Vicky said.

“Let me see. A good evening meal and a decent night's sleep, and I’ll give you an answer in the morning,” I said.

Vicky said, “What would you like for dinner from the sea?”

I said, “Mahi Mahi.”

I wanted to see just how smart these dolphins were. Would I get just fish, or would it be Mahi? It seemed awfully convenient.

Vicky went to the lagoon, and in a few minutes, one of the dolphins came to her. She and it had a short exchange. Then she came back to me.

Vicky said, “You might want to come and watch this.”

She showed me a trail that snaked back and forth up the side of a rocky rise to a higher terrace. The company had put in a nice, finished patio for ten people to sit comfortably. There was a dumb waiter trolley that ran from the base of the trail where the main site was to the higher terrace. From the point, I could see a good area of the ocean. Vicky pointed out a sea pen below me. After about forty minutes, the three dolphins were off the point, swimming erratically toward the pen. Slowly they made their way to the stone enclosure. When suddenly, a Mahi Mahi made a death-defying leap into the pen. The dolphins swam around and jumped into the air, making squeals of delight.

Vicky said, “There is your dinner.”

“Impressive,” I said.

Vicky said, “I want a pod of at least ten. One dolphin for each client. I need to show that I can provide for each customer.”

“What if I had asked for shark fin soup?” I said.

Vicky said, “There are things not on the menu. Things I will not gather for a meal, sorry. Things like turtle soup. Calamari is harder. Lobster is pretty easy to do. Most fish are good. Bluefin tuna every once in a while, things like that. I need to show I can provide a luxury or two as a surprise.

I’ve just set up one of the client’s luxury tents with an octo-mega-bed. I took pictures to do a layout for a brochure. I have solar power, computers to process high-def video, many kinds of cameras and drones to do promotional videos with, but little else. There is no internet.”

I said, “I’m not much of a tech man. You seem to have a nice setup here. Do you own the island?”

“No, this is an island that the corporation owns. They want to make an isolated resort that offers luxury in a remote location. They are taking ideas and trying them out. They are going to fully fund five projects for two years in the next few months,” Vicky said. “They have several islands they might be interested in setting up something. To be funded for a three-month trial was a shot at big money to fund my own dolphin research.”

Vicky made her way to the sea pen below the point. I followed her. The path seemed solid and well worn.

Vicky said, “It was a change in thinking that allowed me to really communicate with the dolphin pod. Then the decision to change the environment to a fuller, richer one, with better subject matter, has really paid off.”

I said, “Are you the only one who can talk to the dolphins?”

“Yes,” said Vicky, “But what I have learned I can teach to anyone. It was a trick in the way the dolphins think. I changed from the concept of I, and it opened a whole new pathway. Dolphins think in terms of the pod. Never I—you must do we. Somehow, they know what they are going to do. They can read each other’s minds. They were going to teach me how to pod think, but I was not a pod. They said it took at least two to be a pod and learn to pod think. So, I’m afraid here you are. When I found out that they told the Orca to smash your boat, I did not know what to say. I had no idea that they could communicate to the Orca. You must believe me when I say I did not know they would do such a thing. It was their idea, their choice.”

I looked at a pair of dolphins that frolicked in the surf. I wondered what it would be like to be smart in a body with no hands. What else were they plotting?

Dinner was elegant. At the main site, the company had a robo-chef that knew and could cook thousands of recipes. She picked Smothered Sonoran Style fish. Grilled in butter and lime, the mahi was served in a mild enchilada smoked chipotle chili sauce. The preparation of the fish was delicious. The company also had a full computer bar that would make any drink perfectly.

Vicky said, “The company is experimenting with a solar refrigeration unit for the storing of luxury food in remote locations. We have a full larder.”

Later we watched the sunset from the terrace, the highest point on the island. I had a restful night’s sleep.

The next morning, I looked into her pleading blue eyes and said, “I’ll stay.”

“Oh, thank you,” she said. “You’re going to help me to win this contract. I won’t let you down. You are going to have the best eight-week vacation of your life.”

I called the insurance company and filed a claim for the Sail Fish. I was assured that I would get a check in the mail as soon as they did an investigation. I just wanted to get away from it all, and Vicky wanted to show the corporation she could provide for my every need. It was a bargain if I ever saw one.

Vicky and I settled into a routine. Mornings were filled with various activities. We started the day with breakfast, freshly prepared by the robo-chef, usually consisting of tropical fruits, freshly caught fish, and just made baked bread. Vicky would then spend some time communicating with her dolphin pod, which fascinated me more and more each day. She explained the intricate social structures within the pod and how they communicated in ways she was only beginning to understand.

Afternoons were for exploration. The island was a treasure trove of natural beauty. We hiked through lush, green forests, discovered hidden coves, and snorkeled in crystal-clear waters. The dolphins often joined us, playfully escorting us through the reefs. Vicky showed me how to forage for edible plants and even taught me some survival skills. Despite her initial focus on luxury, it was clear she had a deep respect for the natural environment and a remarkable knowledge of how to live off the land.

As the days melted by, I found myself growing more comfortable with island life. My ribs healed slowly, and Vicky’s expertise in makeshift medicine helped speed up the process. We spent evenings on the terrace, watching the sunset in a blaze of colors, sharing stories about our lives before the island. I learned that Vicky had a background in marine biology and had dedicated her life to studying dolphins. Her passion was infectious, and I found myself looking forward to our evening conversations as much as the spectacular views.

One evening, after another amazing dinner, Vicky brought up the concept of "pod thinking" again.

“I think it’s time you learned to communicate with the dolphins,” she said. “They’ve been asking about you. They want to know who you are and what you’re doing here.”

I was skeptical but intrigued. Vicky spent the next few days teaching me the basics of dolphin communication. It wasn’t about speaking their language but understanding their signals, their body language, and their unique way of viewing the world. She taught me to let go of my individualistic mindset and think in terms of the group—the pod.

The first time I successfully communicated with one of the dolphins was an experience I would never forget. It was like a door opening in my mind. I felt a connection, a sense of belonging that I had never experienced before. The dolphins were intelligent, curious, and surprisingly empathetic. They seemed to understand my situation better than I did.

One afternoon, while swimming with the pod, the dolphins made a series of sounds I had never heard before. Vicky looked at me with a knowing smile.

“They want to teach you to pod think,” she said. “This is going to be intense.”

The dolphins pushed Vicky and me close together back-to-back. There was a mighty blast of the group's sonar, and I felt Vicky’s mind. Our thoughts began to merge, and I could sense her emotions, her desires, and her thoughts as clearly as if they were my own. It was overwhelming and exhilarating.

As the dolphins continued their sonar blasts, the connection deepened. Our bodies moved in perfect harmony, guided by the shared consciousness of the pod. Every touch, every caress was magnified, amplified by the collective mind. Our desires intertwined, and our passion soared to heights I had never imagined.

We moved together with an intensity that left us both gasping, our bodies responding to each other with a primal, instinctual rhythm. The dolphins’ sonar guided us, enhancing our pleasure, and deepening our connection. Each touch brought out intense feedback that reinforced our desires, leading us to an explosive climax that left us both floating in a state of bliss.

The experience was unlike anything I had ever known. It was as if we had become one with the pod, our minds and bodies perfectly attuned to each other. The connection lingered, a warm, satisfying glow that stayed with us long after we left the water.

As the days of joy and bliss faded one in to another, our bond with the dolphins grew stronger. We continued to explore the island, enjoying each other's company and the incredible experiences the dolphins provided. Each day brought new discoveries, new adventures, and a deeper understanding of each other and the world around us.

After another satisfying day of exploring and learning, Vicky mentioned a phenomenon called the "Green Flash."

“If the conditions are right tonight, and the sun is in the correct position we might see something incredible,” she said. “It’s called the Green Flash. You can only see it from the terrace because you need to be high enough to see deep into the water as the sun sets.”

“From the terrace?” I asked, intrigued.

“Yes,” she nodded. “The sky has to be clear like it has been today, and the water needs to be deep and calm. It’s a rare event, but when it happens, it’s like nothing else.”

We climbed the familiar trail to the terrace, a high point on the island that offered a stunning view of the ocean. The sky was clear, and the sea below was deep and still, perfect conditions for the green flash. We settled into comfortable chairs, our eyes fixed on the horizon where the sun was slowly dipping into the water.

As the last rays of the sun touched the ocean, a strange stillness fell over the island. The dolphins gathered near the shore, their sleek bodies glistening in the fading light. There was a sense of anticipation in the air, a feeling that something extraordinary was about to happen.

Then, just as the sun disappeared below the horizon, it happened. A brilliant flash of green light burst from the depths of the ocean, illuminating the water and the sky in a breathtaking display of color. It was as if the sea itself had come alive, a shimmering veil of green that seemed to connect the ocean with the heavens.

In that moment, I felt a profound connection not just to Vicky and the Pod, but to the entire universe. It was as if the green flash had opened a door to another dimension, a place where time and space didn’t matter, where everything was connected in an eternal dance.

Vicky squeezed my hand. “It’s beautiful, isn’t it?”

“Yes,” I whispered, still in awe. “It’s incredible.”

We stayed on the terrace long after the flash had faded, talking about the mysteries of the sea, the dolphins, and our place in the world. The Green Flash had been a sign, a symbol of the bond we had formed and the extraordinary journey we had shared.

As the days blurred passed, our bond with the Pod grew stronger. We continued to explore the island, enjoying each other's company and the incredible experiences the Pod provided. Each day brought new discoveries, new adventures, and a deeper understanding of ourselves and the world around us.

The day dawned bright and promising as Vicky and I set out on another exploration of the island. This time, we had heard from the dolphins about a secluded lagoon deep within the heart of the island—a place where ancient ruins lay hidden, untouched by time.

Following the dolphins' playful guidance, we navigated through dense foliage and rugged terrain until we emerged into a breathtaking clearing. Before us stretched a tranquil lagoon, its waters crystal-clear and shimmering in the morning sunlight. Surrounding the lagoon were lush greenery and towering palm trees, creating a serene and isolated atmosphere.

“There it is,” Vicky whispered in awe, her eyes fixed on the far side of the lagoon. “The dolphins said the temple lies beyond that ridge.”

We approached the lagoon cautiously, marveling at its natural beauty and the sense of ancientness that seemed to hang in the air. The dolphins swam ahead of us, their clicks and whistles echoing off the surrounding cliffs.

As we rounded the ridge, we caught our first glimpse of the ancient temple—a magnificent structure partially submerged in the lagoon’s edge. Moss and vines adorned its weathered stone walls, and intricate carvings adorned every visible surface.

“It’s incredible,” I breathed, taking in the sight before me. “Do you think this was a temple?”

Vicky nodded, her excitement palpable. “Absolutely. Look at those carvings—they must be thousands of years old.”

We waded into the shallow waters, careful not to disturb the temple’s delicate surroundings. The dolphin pod swam gracefully around us, as if welcoming us to this sacred place.

Among the ruins, we discovered a large, carved rock standing at least seven feet tall. Its surface was adorned with intricate designs depicting sea creatures, waves, and celestial symbols. At the top of the rock, a majestic figure of a sea deity looked out over the lagoon, its expression serene and timeless.

“This must be the god they worshiped,” Vicky murmured, tracing the carvings with reverence. “Imagine the rituals and ceremonies that took place here.”

As we studied the carvings, the dolphins gathered around us in the lagoon, their curiosity piqued by our discovery. Vicky spoke to them in their own language, and they responded with gentle clicks and whistles, as if sharing in our wonder.

“They seem to know this place well,” I remarked, watching the Pod circle around the temple. “Do you think they’ve been guarding it all this time?”

Vicky smiled, her eyes shining with admiration for the intelligent creatures. “It’s possible. Dolphins have a deep connection to their surroundings and to each other. They might consider this temple a part of their home.”

We spent the rest of the day exploring the temple ruins, marveling at the craftsmanship of the ancient carvings and imagining the lives of those who had once worshiped here. The sun began to set, casting a golden glow over the lagoon and bathing the carved rock god in a warm light.

“It’s getting late,” Vicky finally said, tearing her gaze away from the temple. “We should head back to camp.”

Reluctantly, we left the ancient temple and its secrets behind, guided by the dolphins as we made our way through the lagoon back to shore. The dolphins swam alongside us, their playful clicks and whistles echoing through the evening air.

Back at our campsite, we sat by the fire, recounting the day’s adventure and reflecting on the mysteries of the island. The carved rock god had left a profound impression on both of us, sparking a curiosity about its history and the ancient rituals that had once taken place here.

As we drifted off to sleep that night, the image of the sea deity carved in stone lingered in my mind. I knew that our discovery was just the beginning of a deeper exploration into the island’s mysteries—and perhaps a deeper connection with its ancient inhabitants and their beliefs.

The lagoon and its hidden temple had revealed their secrets to us, inviting us to delve deeper into their history and embrace the wonder and mystery that lay beneath the island’s tranquil surface. And as always, the dolphins were there, guiding us with their wisdom and companionship, reminding us that we were not alone in our journey of discovery.

The tropical evening descended upon the island with a gentle caress of the trade winds, carrying with it the salty tang of the sea and the sweet aroma of exotic flowers. Vicky and I had prepared another evening meal on the terrace, overlooking the lagoon where the ancient temple stood sentinel in the fading light.

The terrace was set with a simple yet elegant table—a rustic wooden surface adorned with flickering candles in handmade lanterns, casting a warm glow over our surroundings. The soft breeze played with the edges of the tablecloth, teasing us with its cool touch as we settled into our seats.

Vicky had outdone herself once again with a feast fit for royalty, showcasing the bounty of the sea and the flavors of the island. On our plates, grilled Sea Bass glistened under a drizzle of citrus-infused mango salsa, accompanied by a side of coconut-infused rice and a medley of grilled vegetables.

As we savored each bite, the flavors exploded on our tongues—a symphony of tropical essence. The fresh fish melted in our mouths, tender and flavorful, complemented perfectly by the tangy sweetness of the salsa and the creamy texture of the coconut rice.

Above us, the sky transformed into a canvas of deepening hues—shades of indigo and violet blending seamlessly with the fiery remnants of the setting sun. A few wispy clouds drifted lazily across the heavens, tinged with hues of pink and gold as if painted by a master artist.

The lagoon shimmered below us, reflecting the colors of the twilight sky like a mirror of liquid silver. The occasional splash of a dolphin’s fin broke the surface, adding a playful rhythm to the tranquil evening.

“This is incredible,” I murmured, raising my glass of chilled tropical fruit punch and rum in a silent toast to Vicky. “You’ve truly created a paradise here.”

Vicky smiled warmly, her eyes sparkling with satisfaction. “It’s all thanks to the island and its gifts,” she replied, her voice carrying the soft cadence of contentment. “And of course, the company of good friends and the Dolphin Pod.”

We continued our meal in companionable silence, occasionally interrupted by the gentle laughter of the dolphins as they frolicked in the lagoon below. The evening wore on, enveloping us in a cocoon of serenity and culinary delight.

As darkness settled over the island, the stars emerged one by one, twinkling brightly in the clear tropical sky. The gentle murmur of the waves lapping against the shore added a soothing soundtrack to our dinner, creating a symphony of sights, sounds, and flavors that transported us to a realm of pure bliss.

With our plates finally empty and our hearts full, we leaned back in our chairs, savoring the lingering tastes of our meal and the beauty of the night around us. The breeze continued to play with our hair and clothes, whispering secrets of the sea and the island’s ancient past.

“This,” I said softly, breaking the peaceful silence, “is a night I’ll never forget.”

Vicky nodded, her expression serene and thoughtful. “Nor will I,” she replied, her gaze drifting out over the lagoon where the temple stood bathed in moonlight. “It’s nights like these that remind us of the magic that surrounds us.”

And so, under the canopy of stars and the watchful gaze of the carved rock god in the ancient temple, we lingered on the terrace, savoring the beauty of the island and the bond forged between us—a bond strengthened by the shared moments of culinary delight and the timeless allure of paradise.

The morning sun hung low on the horizon, casting a golden hue over the lagoon as Vicky and I geared up for our expedition to explore a shallow shipwreck nestled just beyond the reach of the island's shoreline. Excitement buzzed between us and the pod as they told us of the wreak. We adjusted our snorkeling gear, ensuring our masks were snug and our fins secure.

Guided by the dolphins who were familiar with the area, we waded into the clear, inviting waters of the lagoon. The shallow shipwreck was said to lie just a short swim away, its timeworn remains visible from the surface on clear days like this.

With a few powerful strokes, we submerged beneath the gentle waves, the cool water enveloping us in its embrace. The sun’s rays filtered through the water, casting shimmering patterns on the sandy seabed below.

As we swam closer to the shipwreck, its outline gradually came into view—a skeletal frame of wooden planks and rusted metal jutting out from the seabed. Barnacles and seaweed clung to its weathered surface, creating a haven for small fish darting in and out of the shadows.

Diving down, we explored the shipwreck’s shallow depths, mindful of our limited time underwater. The ship’s hull rose in front of us, its once majestic form now a haunting reminder of the forces of nature and time.

Within the ship’s interior, we discovered remnants of its cargo—a scattering of broken crates and barrels half-buried in the sand. The salty sea had claimed much of the ship’s treasures, leaving behind only fragments of a bygone era.

I pointed to a section where a wooden chest lay partially exposed, its lid slightly ajar. Vicky nodded, her eyes gleaming with curiosity as we approached cautiously. We had to work quickly, mindful of our breath and the need to surface before our lungs demanded air.

Opening the chest revealed a few artifacts—a tarnished compass, a handful of coins encrusted with salt, and a small brass key that gleamed faintly in the filtered sunlight. Despite our hopes, there was no glittering treasure, only the remnants of a forgotten voyage lost to time.

With a final glance at the shipwreck’s interior, we reluctantly began our ascent back to the surface, our lungs burning with the need for fresh air. The dolphins greeted us as we broke through the water’s surface, their clicks and whistles a cheerful welcome back to the world above.

Back on the shore, we sat in the warm sand, reflecting on our brief but thrilling adventure. The shallow shipwreck had revealed a glimpse into the island’s maritime history—a testament to the bravery of sailors who once navigated these treacherous waters.

“It’s amazing to think about the lives that were once tied to this ship,” Vicky remarked, her voice filled with awe. “They sailed these seas, facing unknown dangers and chasing dreams of discovery.”

I nodded in agreement, my thoughts drifting to the artifacts we had discovered and the stories they held. The shipwreck had left an indelible mark on us—a reminder of the island’s hidden treasures and the mysteries that lay just beneath the surface.

As the sun climbed higher in the sky, casting a warm glow over the lagoon and the dolphins’ playful antics, we knew that our exploration of the island’s secrets had only just begun. And as we watched the waves gently lap against the shore, we couldn’t help but wonder what other adventures awaited us in the depths of the sea and the heart of this tropical paradise.

One night, while we were stargazing, Vicky turned to me and said, “You’ve become a part of the pod, Glenn. They’ve accepted you. And so have I.”

Her words filled me with warmth. The island had become more than just a place of refuge; it had become home. The dolphins were no longer just creatures of the sea; they were friends, protectors, and teachers.

As the end of the eight weeks approached, I found myself dreading the thought of leaving. The island, Vicky, and the dolphin pod had become a part of me. I wasn’t sure if I was ready to return to the world I had left behind.

On the last day, Vicky made a call on the radio. The boat was scheduled to arrive the next morning to take me back to civilization. We spent our final evening together on the terrace, watching the sunset.

“I’m going to miss this place,” I said, looking out at the horizon.

“Me too,” Vicky replied. “But you know, you’re always welcome here. The pod will always welcome you back.”

The next morning, the boat arrived. As I boarded, I felt a pang of sadness. The dolphins swam around the boat, squeaking their farewells. Vicky stood on the shore, waving.

As the island grew smaller in the distance, I realized that my time there had changed me in ways I couldn’t yet fully understand. I had come seeking escape and found a new way of thinking, a new way of living.

I knew I would return someday. The island, Vicky, and the dolphin pod were a part of me now. And I was a part of them.