Once I cut an article out of Cosmopolitan
called “101 Things to do Before I Die,” and I decided to do as many of
the things on that list as I could. Just the ones that appealed to me,
of course. I was not interested in making love to someone in the bathroom
of an airplane, for instance. But I did fool around with my husband
in the private swimming pool of a villa in Puerto Vallarta and he picked
orchids from the side of the pool and put them in my hair afterward. I
did not want to skydive or hang glide or bungee jump because I would like
to be at my grandchildren’s weddings. But I did surprise my husband with
a ride in a red and green hot air balloon on our 30th anniversary. We drank
champagne up there and decided to stay married for another 30 years. I
did want to ride a camel in Egypt and see the pyramids and that’s on my
list of things still to do.
But two weeks ago I checked off another of
the things I had always wanted to do - I swam with dolphins. If you have
never done this, I urge you to find some dolphins somewhere and do it.
I was in Miami writing about the city for honeymooners for Modern Bride
magazine, and the Seaquarium there invited us to come and hang out with
their dolphins. It’s very safe. They give you a little talk first
about what to expect and how not to put your finger in their blowhole by
mistake. Then they give you wet suits to put on - I love them because they
pull your entire body up and keep it there. You jump into a lagoon with
the dolphins, their trainers and some tourists. The trainers are
all young women who obviously love their work and the dolphins are incredibly
sociable. They train the dolphins by rewards of fish noshes and pats on
the head. “If they misbehave, we give them a time out,” they explain.
That’s three seconds without attention and the dolphins are back in line.
Two-year-olds should be as easy to train.
We stood on a wooden platform at one end of the lagoon
and the dolphins came up close and we could pat them. They feel
like one of those rubber toys children play with in the bathtub,
and they look as if they’re smiling all the time. Don’t
tell me about anthropomorphism - I’m sure they really are smiling.
Then they told us to hold our left arm out straight and to grab
on to the dolphin’s fin when he swims past your body. I
did as I was told but wasn’t prepared for my dolphin to take off
at 65 miles an hour across the lagoon. I held on to the
fin for dear life and I was laughing so hard it’s a wonder I didn’t
fall off in the middle (you can’t drown, the wet suits keep you
up and the place is loaded with good swimmers). My dolphin stopped
at the other end at a signal from the trainer over there, and
I got up on the platform at that end. I was exhilarated and happy
and wanted more.
The next thing you do is float on your stomach,
your arms stretched out before you, and the dolphin comes up behind you
and pushes your feet, still traveling 65 miles an hour because they don’t
know how to do slow, back to the other side of the lagoon. By the
time you have done this a few times, you don’t flop over but sail smoothly
across the water and feel like you’re in one of the Flipper movies.
At the end, the trainer says, “Would you like to give him a hug?” Would
I! The dolphin comes and puts his head on your shoulder and you put
your arms around him and hug him goodbye. You feel like this dolphin
really doesn’t want you to go.
I have carried around the feeling of happiness
I got from those affectionate creatures ever since my trip down
there and will look for chances to do it again.
What’s still on my list of things to do?
Let’s see. I would love to be an extra in a movie. I would like to
rent an apartment on the Ile St. Louis and live there for two months. I
would like to allow myself to stay in bed all day when I’m not sick.
I’ve already walked in rain forests, ridden on the Orient Express,
lived in Kiev, taken a cable car to the top of Sugar Loaf Mountain in Rio
at sunset, and kayaked in Belize. Next month I’ll hike in the mountains
near Seattle with my grandchildren who just moved to Mercer Island.
I would love to read your list of Things
to Do Before You Die. I’m sure you’ll come up with imaginative, creative,
exciting adventures that I can add to my own list.
Move it or lose it, I always say.
Email Mary with your
list. We'd love to hear from you.