WHY WOULD A POODLE PADDLE WITH A PORPOISE
It’s another scorching-hot, bone-dry summer day in Eilat, Israel. So hot, you can fry an omelet on the black asphalt and get your swimsuit completely dry while waiting for that egg to fry. No wonder everyone’s rushing into the cool blue waters of the Red Sea.
Everyone, including one small canine. Why did it jump in? Why was I there to photograph it? And what did the dolphin think about that hairy little guy?
42 degrees in the shade
Eilat lies at the southernmost tip of Israel, where the Red Sea ends, and the Great Rift Valley starts (or rather continues, if you are deeply particular about geographical accuracies). Geology aside, the resort town is a bit like Las Vegas. Not in the sense that it’s glitzy, glamorous, and packed full of slot machines. Rather Eilat, like Vegas, is both disconnected from the rest of Israel and an integral part of what defines it. Sort of “what goes in Eilat, stays in Eilat,” but without the major hangover and the noticeable, hard-to-explain, neck hickeys.
I’m here passing vacation time with my wife and kids, looking for attractions to ease the three little brats’ boredom and the load off my wallet. One of these attractions is called “Dolphin Reef”. It’s a horseshoe-shaped sea-pen where Bottlenose Dolphins swim inside the 12 meters-deep, 10,000sqm area. The aquatic mammals are not trained to perform, and there are no dolphin shows, but the aquatic mammals can interact freely with human visitors. The dolphins, known for their curiosity and friendliness, approach the observation posts and floating piers and swim alongside the people who snorkel and dive there.
Based short 4Km south of the city center, the Dolphin Reef seemed like the right thing to pass (in Hebrew, we say “to burn”) another hot day with the family. And it was, and then some.
“Some people call him the space cowboy”
So, we get into the car, drive south along the off-white shores of the deep-blue Red Sea. Yes, it is dark blue, not red. The “Red” comes from the rusty color of the mountains surrounding this speck of water. Taking some time to find a distant parking spot, we drag the kids outside and waddle our way to the entrance. The place is beautiful, well laid out, and full of shade. Below, the small bay is crisscrossed with wooden walkaways lined with small benches and pavilions. There’s also a small diving shop for those wanting to take their chances and dive deeper into the cool, refreshing (and surprisingly salty) waters.
However, the main attraction is the pack of untrained dolphins swimming around, popping to say hello every now and then, and clamoring more purposefully come Sardin feeding time. I never really understood what’s the big thing about feeding time as the pack can dine whenever they want on the local schools of fish swimming among the corals inside the large pen.
But then we found out the real attraction was not in the water. As a matter of fact, it was sitting just nearby, waiting for the right time to strike. Nobody noticed the small white dog, perched on the deck, well, who does? Probably belonged to one of the many visitors. But then it decided to start barking. A lot of unexpected things happened next.
White dogs can jump (and swim)
Was it angry about the dolphins? Dogs do like to bark at other mammals, don’t they? Only the Dolphins seemed not intimidated at all by that canine gesture- on the contrary. They all popped their head out of the water as if saying to the little dinky dog, “Go ahead, make our day.” And then he did – headfirst. I’ve seen some weird collection of things in my life. This blog you are reading celebrates many of them. I’m not sure a dog playing with sea mammals takes the gold, but it sure gets a podium! This was a complete novelty to me, and it seemed like everyone else around me agreed. I was one of the very fortunate to have my camera ready (these were the days where mobile phones still had buttons and were primarily used to call other people).
Snapping one picture after another – using actual film – I slowly realized I was a prisoner of my own preconception. This was not a case of a crazy, stupid, little dog taking on an aquatic Goliath. They were all playing together, having fun Dolphin/Dog-style. A few minutes later – and after collecting my jaw (it dropped on the floor) and putting it back in its place – the dog appeared to have had enough. It bid farewell to the Dolphins, swam back to the pier, climbed up, did a quick shake-up, and returned to do normal dog stuff, like licking its b**** and resting in the sun.
I later found out this was not a one-time fluke. This was Jocker, and it had a story like no other.
The dog who loved dolphins
One early day in 2003, a small white Terrier appeared at the Dolphin Reef Entrance. It was not admitted but managed to find its way inside. The next day it came back again, and again, and again. Waiting every morning at the entrance for the first employees to open up the place. Jocker didn’t look like a street dog, it was well fed and groomed. Something, known only to it, propelled Jocker to make the long journey from the city all the way down to the reef.
Finally, the employees caved in, and Jocker was admitted inside. It ran immediately to the pier to watch the attraction – just like any other visitor. It would do so for the next 10 years until it died – old aged – ten years later. Jocker gradually became a sort of a local celebrity. It often hitchhiked – believe it or not – its way from Eilat City and back to town at night. Locals would always stop to let it in.
How incredible is this? How many dogs have their images sold for $500 on Gettyimages?!
If you’d like to know more about Jocker and know Hebrew (or trust Google Translate), you can read his 2013 obituary here. I can only hope that way up there, Jocker is having fun with the big porpoises in the skies.
