Adventure: The Big Blue

Chantae Reden flew to Hawaii to freedive with dolphins.

Destination: Hawaii

Location: Kona

Freediving with wild dolphins.

“Stop swimming. I think we should let them come to us,” said Steffen, my freediving partner.

A pod of at least 30 spinner dolphins entered Honaunau Bay in Kona, Hawaii. A group of snorkellers followed them, trying to catch a closer glimpse of the dolphins before they disappeared under the deep turquoise water. I halted my fins and let my body relax. The dolphins swam further away.

It’s against human instinct to stop chasing after what we want. What if the dolphins didn’t come back?

Honaunau Bay, part of the Pu’uhonua O Honaunau National Historical Park, is known as the City of Refuge to Hawaiians, as it once was a safe space for those who broke sacred laws, called kapu. Breaking kapu nearly always meant death — unless the criminal could escape to safety at a sacred site like Pu’uhonua O Honaunau. Here, every sin could be forgiven. Today, a temple housing the bones of former Hawaiian chiefs stands as a national monument symbolising a tumultuous past and a peaceful future.

The spinner dolphins that live along the coastal water of Hawaii find Honaunau Bay to be a refuge of their own. Nearly every morning, the pod enters the bay and swims laps around the black lava rock edge. The bay has depths of nearly 90 meters, and you can find the word “ALOHA” spelt out in concrete bricks on the sandy bottom, welcoming you there.

On my way to the middle of the bay, I saw schools of yellow tang amongst the coral reef, white-tip reef sharks, eels, sea turtles, and a handful of humuhumunukunukuapua’a (the Hawaiian state trigger fish).

Spinner dolphins get their name from the signature spins that they do. The dolphins dive deep, then swim toward the surface at a high speed and launch themselves into the air, completing up to five rotations. They are the ocean’s best acrobats.

Steffen and I tread water and watch the snorkellers swim to the outer edge of the bay and start to play an aquatic game of whack-a-mole. The dorsal fins popped up in one place, and the snorkellers scramble to get there. A few seconds later, the dorsal fins popped up elsewhere and the snorkellers dart back. After witnessing this, it was obvious that the dolphins had little interest in changing their course to satiate our desire of seeing them from closer perspective. I felt guilty for wanting to join the melee.

A freediver uses the rope so they don't lose their way.

A dolphin dives deep into the water.

A freediver gets close to a school of fish.

Unlike scuba divers, freedivers use only the air in their lungs to explore the deep.

“I think if we swim down to 15 metres and wait, the dolphins will be curious about us,” Steffen said before taking a deep breath and diving. His theory came from an experience the day before, where he’d reached a depth of 30 metres. On his ascent, three dolphins had corkscrewed around his body like a trio of ballet dancers. Now we wanted to investigate whether this was a once-in-a-lifetime encounter, or a strategy for truly connecting with the dolphins.

Steffen swam to five metres, then 10, then 15, and stopped. His body hung weightless in the blue. A pod of 15 dolphins passed underneath him, but seemed disinterested.

I submerged my face into the saltwater and took a few relaxing breaths through my snorkel. At ease, I descended.

At five metres, I saw the large pod of dolphins in the distance, barely close enough to distinguish their dark and light grey pattern. The dolphins’ clicks, hums, and whistles ricocheted around the bay.

At 10 metres, I felt the pressure of the sea surrounding me. My chest compressed as I reached neutral buoyancy. For freedivers, this is usually the depth where the sea stops shoving us back towards air and welcomes us deeper instead. I kept falling... At around 17 metres, my diaphragm started its series of contractions. Contractions are used as a freediver’s internal gauge of carbon dioxide build-up and oxygen levels. When they start, you pay close attention to what your body is telling you. The strength of my contractions signalled for me to turn back.

On my way up, five dolphins broke from the larger pod and came closer. About five metres away, their pace matched mine and we exhaled within nanoseconds of one another at the surface.

Freedivers often refer to the mammalian dive reflex, a set of reflexes that slow your heart rate and shunt blood to the core of your body. It’s thought of our greatest physiological connection to the sea — a switch that preserves our bodies even when we’re in an environment that humans abandoned from an evolutionary standpoint millions of years ago.

Freedivers believe that the lack of bubbles from a tank enables them to get closer to the marine life.

The calf matched my pace. When I broke through the water to take a breath, so did the calf"

Steffen and I took turns diving. On some dives, the dolphins came closer. On others, they reached depths of over 40 metres — beyond both Steffen’s and my limits. But on one dive, the dolphins swam so close to Steffen, they nearly skimmed the top of his head.

“They are like fighter jets doing a flyby,” Steffen laughed.

We often witnessed the dolphins swim in their signature spirals, twirling through the water. I sensed both their playfulness and intelligence. I finned to 10 metres and hung weightlessly as two adult dolphins and a calf swam by. When they passed me, I started spinning — completing two rotations before stopping and waiting to see their reaction.

The calf broke away from the pod and mimicked my twist. Our bellies faced each other and we swam a short ways towards opposite ends of the bay. Yin and yang.

I spun again on my way to the surface. The spinner calf matched my pace and twirled in harmony. When I broke through the water to take a breath, so did the calf. Then, the inquisitive calf rejoined the pod.

I felt exhilarated and thrilled by this mini aquatic interaction. As I readied myself to get back on to the boat, the old adage came to mind: “Good things come to those who wait”.

GETTING THERE: For more information on travelling to Hawaii email aLightfoot Travel Designer at info@lightfoottravel.com

ULTIMATE DIVES

Champion freediver Hanli Prinslooreveals her top five freediving spots

1. NIUE ISLAND, SOUTH PACIFIC

For humpback whales I would go to this small island called Niue in the South Pacific. I’ve never seen water that blue — it’s unbelievable. You’ll see dolphins, sea snakes, moray eels, huge Napolean wrasse, sharks… It’s really special. There are only 1,200 people on the island. So you have more animals than humans in your vicinity, which is my kind of place.

2. MADAGASCAR

We went to the northwestern tip of Madagascar last year and I can’t wait to go back. We swam with a friend of mine who is a whale shark researcher. Within the crystal blue water you’ll see whale sharks, turtles and dolphins. It’s the same place that they discovered the Omura’s whale, which was only found in 1995.

3. MOZAMBIQUE

I love to go to Southern Mozambique to swim with the dolphins. The dolphins that are resident to that stretch of coast are remarkably interactive. You never know what you are going to see in Southern Mozambique. Sometimes you find manta rays, or whales, or a tiger shark, anything in that wild ocean.

4. SEA OF CORTEZ, MEXICO

Jacques Cousteau called it the world’s aquarium. We go to the Sea of Cortez to swim in this marine reserve that has been protected for over 25 years called Cabo Pulmo. There are masses of giant schools of Jack fish. You just don’t see that biomass of life anymore, anywhere… It’s like going back in time.

5. BAHAMAS

I have a soft spot in my heart for the very misunderstood sharks. We keep going back to the Bahamas to see these creatures. Hammerhead sharks, reef sharks… It’s unbelievable diving around the Bahamas.

Speak to your Lightfoot Travel Designer to find out how you can dive with Hanli Prinsloo.

Photography: Kona Huna Divers, Hanli Prinsloo and Peter Marshall