Dolphin Island

Despite occasional arguments and quarrels, the boys were now firm friends and were seldom far apart. Mick was, indeed, the first really close friend that Johnny had ever made. There was good reason for this, though he did not know it. After losing both his parents, at such an early age, he had been afraid to risk his affections elsewhere, but now the break with his past was so complete that it had lost much of its power over him.

Besides, Mick was someone whom anybody could admire. Like most of the islanders, he had a splendid physique; generations of sea-battling forefathers had made sure of that. He was alert and intelligent and full of information about things of which Johnny had never heard. His faults were minor ones—rashness, exaggeration, and a fondness for practical jokes, which sometimes got him into trouble.

Toward Johnny he felt protective, almost fatherly, as a big man can often be toward a much smaller one. And perhaps the warmhearted island boy, with his four brothers, three sisters, and scores of aunts, uncles, cousins, nephews, and nieces, felt the inner loneliness of this runaway orphan from the other side of the world.

Ever since he had mastered the basic technique of diving, Johnny had been pestering Mick to take him exploring off the edge of the reef, where he could test his new skills in deep water and among big fish. But Mick had taken his time. Though he was impatient in small matters, he could be cautious in big ones. He knew that diving in a small, safe pool, or close to the jetty, was very different from operating in the open sea. So many things could go wrong: there were powerful currents, unexpected storms might spring up, sharks might make a nuisance of themselves—the sea was full of surprises, even for the most experienced diver. It was merciless to those who made mistakes and did not give them a second chance.

Johnny’s opportunity came in a way that he had not expected. Susie and Sputnik were responsible. Professor Kazan had decided that it was time they went out into the world to earn their own living. He never kept a pair of dolphins longer than a year, believing that it was not fair to do so. They were social creatures and needed to make contact with their own kind. Most of his subjects, when he released them, remained close to the island and could always be called through the underwater loud-speakers. He was quite sure that Susie and Sputnik would behave in the same way.

In fact, they simply refused to leave. When the gate of the pool was opened, they swam a little way down the channel leading into the sea, then darted back as if afraid that they would be shut outside.

“I know what’s wrong,” said Mick in disgust. “They’re so used to being fed by us that they’re too lazy to catch their own fish.”

There might have been some truth in that, but it was not the whole explanation. For when Professor Kazan asked Johnny to swim down the channel, they followed him out to sea. He did not even have to press any of the buttons on the communicator.

After that, there was no more swimming in the deserted pool, for which, though no one knew it, Professor Kazan now had other purposes in mind. Every morning, immediately after their first session at school, Mick and Johnny would meet the two dolphins and head out to the reef. Usually they took Mick’s surfboard with them, as a floating base on which they could load their gear and any fish that they caught.

Mick told a hair-raising tale of sitting on this same board while a tiger shark prowled around, trying to take a bite out of a thirty-pound barracuda he’d shot and foolishly left dangling in the water. “If you want to live a long time on the Great Barrier Reef,” he said, “get your speared fish out of the sea as quickly as you can. Australian sharks are the meanest in the world—they grab three or four divers every year.”

That was nice to know; Johnny wondered how long it would take a shark to chew through the two inches of foam-and-Fiberglas in Mick’s board, if it really tried…

But with Susie and Sputnik as escorts, there was no danger from sharks; indeed, they hardly ever saw one. The presence of the two dolphins gave them a wonderful sense of security, such as no diver in the open sea could ever have felt before. Sometimes Susie and Sputnik were joined by Einar and Peggy, and once a school of at least fifty dolphins accompanied them on one of their swims. This was too much of a good thing, for the water was so crowded that visibility was almost zero; but Johnny could not bring himself to hurt their feelings by pressing the GO button.