Dolphin Island

This was far and away the largest animal that he had ever seen—it looked as big as a boat—and Snowy had suddenly shrunk to dolphin size by contrast. But she was the master—or mistress—of the situation, for as her huge mate patrolled slowly around the board, she circled on an inner orbit, always keeping between him and Johnny.

Once he stopped, reared his head a good six feet out of the water, and stared straight at Johnny across Snowy’s back. There was hunger, intelligence, and ferocity in those eyes—or so it seemed to Johnny’s heightened imagination —but no trace of friendliness. And all the time he was spiraling in toward the surfboard; in a very few minutes he would be squeezing Snowy against it.

Snowy, however, had other ideas. When her companion was only ten feet away and filling the whole of Johnny’s field of view, she suddenly turned on him and gave him a nudge amidships. Johnny could hear the “thump” clearly through the water; the impact would have been enough to stave in the side of a small boat.

The big whale took the gentle hint, and to Johnny’s vast relief began to move farther outward. Fifty feet away there was another slight disagreement, and another thump. That was the end of it. Within minutes, Snowy and her escort had vanished from sight, heading due north. As he watched them go, Johnny realized that he had just seen a ferocious monster converted into a henpecked husband, forbidden to take snacks between meals. The snack concerned was devoutly grateful.

For a long time, Johnny sat on the board, trying to regain control of his nerves. He had never been so scared in his life, and he was not ashamed of it, for he had had plenty to be scared about. But at last he stopped looking over his shoulder every few seconds to see what was coming up from behind, and began to get organized. The first order of business was: Where were Susie and Sputnik?

There had been no sign of them, and Johnny was not surprised. Undoubtedly, they had detected the killers and had wisely kept their distance. Even if they trusted Snowy, they would know better than to come near her mate.

Had they been scared completely away, or—horrible thought—had the killers already caught them? If they did not return, Johnny knew that he was finished, for he must still be at least forty miles from the Australian coast.

He was afraid to press the calling button a second time; it might bring back the killer whales, and he had no wish to go through that again, even if he could be sure that it would have the same happy ending. There was nothing he could do but sit and wait, scanning the sea around him for the first sign of a reasonable-sized dorsal fin, not more than a foot high.

Fifteen endless minutes later, Sputnik and Susie came swimming up out of the south. They probably had been waiting for the coast to clear. Johnny had never been so pleased to see any humans as he was to greet the two dolphins. As he slipped off the board to fix the harness, he gave them the little pats and caresses they enjoyed, and talked to them just as if they could understand him. As, indeed, they certainly did, for though they knew only a few words of English, they were very sensitive to his tone of voice. They could always tell when he was pleased or angry, and now they must surely share his own feeling of overwhelming relief.

He tightened the buckles of Sputnik’s harness, checked that blowhole and flippers were clear of the straps, and climbed back onto the board. As soon as he was lying flat and properly balanced, Sputnik started to move.

This time he did not continue westward toward Australia; instead, he headed south. “Hey!” said Johnny. “That’s the wrong direction!” Then he thought of the killer whales and realized that this was not such a bad idea after all. He would let Sputnik have his head and see what happened.

They were going faster than Johnny had ever traveled on the board before. Speed so close to the water was very deceptive, but he would not be surprised if they were doing fifteen knots. Sputnik kept it up for twenty minutes; then, as Johnny had hoped and expected, they turned west. With any luck now, it would be a clear run to Australia.

From time to time he glanced back to see if they were followed, but no tall dorsal fin broke the emptiness behind them. Once, a big manta ray leaped clear out of the sea a few hundred yards away, hung in the air for a second like an enormous black bat, then fell back with a crash that could have been heard for miles. It was the only sign of the ocean’s teeming life that he saw on the second lap of his journey.

Toward midmorning, Sputnik began to slacken, but continued to pull gamely. Johnny was anxious not to halt again until the coast was in sight; then he intended to switch back to Susie, who would have had a good rest by that time. If his guesses of speed were correct, Australia could not be much more than ten miles away, and should be appearing at any moment.