Slipping out of a harbor in Southern California, the large sailboat crawled across the flat surface of the ocean, its sails furled as a concession to the incredibly still morning. Were they hoisted they would have proven totally useless and inconvenient. The only sounds to be heard were the drone from the small engine below, the bark of some distant sea lions sun bathing on a channel buoy, the dull roar of traffic on a freeway, the screech from passing sea gulls and the voice of an occasional child frolicking on a sandy beach nearby. The “sailors” on board were mostly silent, enjoying being on the water, feeling the warmth from the sun upon their faces, but mostly in reverence to their mission – executing the final wish of a beloved ancestor, a US Navy retiree. She requested that her ashes be scattered upon this vast ocean in accordance with the timeless, universal tradition that spans civilizations, cultures and religions. It is a ceremony that has existed in one form or another for thousands of years, nearly as long as man has put upon the sea. The crew was feeling connected to this eternity, yet somehow alone out there, despite the fact that 6 million people in the city were busily going about their day on the other side of the beach they could now barely see. (PLEASE CLICK ON THE TITLE ABOVE TO CONTINUE READING.)
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These sailors left the safety of the harbor that morning like they had so many times before on southerly runs to Catalina Island, 30 miles away. On those crossings, it is common to see dolphins and, in the proper season, whales. On this morning, though, as the boat was steered on a course that had no direction other than what felt right, they beheld a sight never before seen – what must have been thousands of dolphins crossing just ahead of them - their graceful, jumping, silvery arcs cutting the calm of the surface, spouting small plumes of mist from their blowholes, all in a parade that lasted twenty minutes. The engine slowed and cameras clicked, but the photographers knew that no photo could possibly capture the uniqueness or the grandeur of what their eyes were witnessing. As the parade ended, with delighted smiles, they each knew that this was the right spot on this vast ocean to memorialize Aunt Mary. In accordance with custom, her ashes were respectfully dispersed by the captain while the boat made way in slow motion, more than 3 miles off the coast. The crew gently dropped flowers onto the sea alongside the ashes, the engine was cut and they all prayed, sitting there slowly rolling to the rhythmic sea. And it was now silent. With eyes closed, blessings and final wishes were lipped to Aunt Mary. Moments later, more dolphins appeared, or perhaps some returning from the earlier parade. The water stirred and the flowers, once thought to have been dropped haphazardly, now magically formed a circle on the water, some ashes still visibly floating. Our dearest friend, Diana, described with moistened eyes this entire experience as simply “weird… beautifully weird”. She said that the soul of Aunt Mary must be so blessed. And then she said that were she not there as a participant who witnessed it, she would find its retelling unbelievable. I held her hand and told her I knew the perfect audience for this incredible story, people who would readily accept its veracity, believe in it without question and admire its weird beauty. And, I trust you do. |