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The Sydney Dolphin Cult

The weather turns cold and rainy as we head down the coast to Sydney.

Our tentacles of desire learn to swim in many forms; we grow eyes and lift a new level of knowing into visibility

A cold front is approaching with an expected wind shift to the south. We will put into Mooloolaba for shelter. The wind is blowing hard from the Northeast as we wear about and head between the long stone breakwaters protecting the harbor entrance. The massive rocks are piled so high we can't see over them. I roll in the headsail and get ready to come about and drop the main as soon as we enter the harbor proper.

The wind is directly on our ass, "Get ready," I call and stand by the mast. Freddy steers Moira around the end of the breakwaters into the harbor. "Shit! There's boats everywhere!" You can't put a sailboat into reverse when she's sailing downwind. There is no place to turn around.

"Do the best you can, head to starboard." I yell, release the halyard and claw down the main while Freddy steers us through the maze of boats.

The sail comes down, and we slow, snaking through to a reasonably clear place. We are in and it's flat calm and quiet.

As we pass a row of pilings, a man gestures us over. He turns out to be from the Harbor board. "Goodday, mate. Just find yourself a piling. No anchoring in here, ya see. Ya pay me five a night, payable in advance." He holds out his hand.

After we get Moira properly secured, we go ashore to see what Mooloolaba has to offer. There is a small village with tourist-style stores, the first McDonald's we've seen in nearly five years, and a long, broad, world class, white sand beach.

We stop in a magazine store and Freddy browses through their woman's magazines. I find myself staring at the cover of Simply Living Magazine. It shows a beautiful drawing of a pair of dolphins. Inside there are two fascinating articles; one about the evolution of man and the other about the mystical relationship between dolphins and man. There is a dolphin leaping over the Simply Living Logo. What more of a "sign" could I want?

As we go to pay for it, the girl at the check-out register says, "We just got in the latest issue of Simply Living," and digs one out of a box on the floor. It contains "part two" of the Dolphin story. I buy both magazines and we head for McDonald's for lunch.

We sit by the window looking out over the world class beach and munch a Big Mac and Fries. I look through the Simply Living magazines. The more I read, the further coincidence shrinks into the background. "This is really amazing," I mumble around a mouth full of french fries.

"Ummm? What is?" Freddy does not look up from her Cosmo magazine.

"Well, we've been feeling like we are being drawn to Sydney. I am in the process of writing a book about a mystical dolphin. And it turns out there is a veritable dolphin cult there. They believe dolphins communicate with certain people telepathically. They have a Guru named Peter who is in touch with the mind of the dolphins all the time and, in concert with them, is developing a philosophy around the teachings of the dolphin mind."

"That is amazing. Who would have imagined there'd be more nuts like you running around?" She glances at the pictures in the Simply Living and shakes her head.

I decide to write to the mysterious Peter via Simply Living and its editor Stewart Davis (who happens to be an intimate friend of Peter the Dolphin Guru). Freddy and I explore the rest of Mooloolaba but I am in a state of ecstacy and hardly notice the small resort village.

I have, for years, felt the thread of the dolphins and whales stitching my life together. I tried hard to work out the odd message I got during the mind contact with the whales in the Solomon Islands. I wrote three books pulling and tugging at the tangle of threads and now, as the third book is completing itself, right after the second powerful mind encounter with the dolphins and whales, I discover there is a group of people who have also heard the mind of Sea. They are waiting in Sydney, exactly where I have felt so powerfully drawn. It's all so mystical and spooky it's got to be real.

The moment we are back aboard Moira, I sit down and begin a letter to Davis. I make several drafts, but none of them sound right. Finally, I stop altogether. Maybe it's better to wait until I can talk to these people directly.


sydney sailin






At 1700 Hours Moira rounds the headland and enters Pittwater Bay, 15 miles north of Sydney. As we clear the point, the bay opens up to reveal thousands of sailboats milling about, most of them plodding around in a big circle.

"Christ," Freddy exclaims, "Look at all those boats! How the hell can we get in?"

It's obviously some kind of race. As we approach the ranks of sails I see the captains and crews. They are completely earnest about the whole project and ignore us as we roll up the sails and motor along the eastern edge of the bay. I drop the hook off a little village at 7 PM. We shut down the engine and watch the sailboats race back towards the head of the bay to their hidden finish line.

The trip is over. The book is done. We made it. Now, feeling really healthy and strong again, I am ready to find out what the Moirae have in store for us in Sydney. Or should I say, what the Dolphins have in store for us?

Freddy and I have a quick dinner and crash. We sleep late, eat a lazy breakfast, and go ashore to explore the village. There is a gift shop just behind the wharf, and in it I find a whole stack of Simply Living Magazines. They have almost all the back issues. It is a professionally done magazine. The layouts are good, the color printing excellent, many of the articles are quite interesting. There is nothing in the back issues about dolphins, however.

I notice the address for the offices of Simply Living are in Palm Beach. I believe Palm Beach is not too far from where we are now, so I ask the sales girl if she knows where I might find the offices of Simply Living.

"Sure, right behind the store. Up the dirt path, it's the house on your right. The brown one. But they'll be closed for lunch now."

I stand there looking at the girl with a stupid expression on my face. This is unbelievable. Last night, quite by chance, we anchored directly in front of an old house on the side of a hill in Pittwater Bay. This morning, we go ashore, I walk directly into this little store, and find out we have - completely by chance - arrived on the doorstep of the Offices of Simply Living Magazine. Hot stuff. The dolphins are really doing their thing.

I rush Freddy back out to the Moira and we gobble lunch. I get together some of my Moirascopes and kaleidoscope photographs. Maybe I can work something out with Simply Living for some articles and perhaps advertisements.

Up the steep path we find the old brown house cluttered with the paraphernalia of magazine printing. Stewart is not there but I talk with Tony Morgan, the art director for the magazine. He is responsible for the high quality layouts and the clean, artistic look of Simply Living. The man has talent. He likes my Kaleidoscope photos and adores the Moirascopes. We quickly agree to a couple of articles about kaleidoscopes.

"Can I use your phone?" I ask, as he sits glued to a Moirascope.

I call Cecille Weldon, the Earthwatch participant in PNG who understood my talks about synergy and megabeasts. She has bought several Moirascopes and told us to get in touch with her when we arrived in Sydney. Her mother answers the phone. Cecille is not home but she told her mother and father we might be coming to Sydney. In fact....this is too much to believe....Brian Rosborough, the President of Earthwatch, is there, in their house, for a brief visit.

Keven, Cecille's father, comes on the phone and tells me to sail to Sydney Harbor, go through the drawbridge on the north end of the harbor into Middle Harbor, keep to port until I find Quaker's Hat Bay. The bay is easily distinguished by a sand-stone boulder formed like a giant hat. When I enter the bay, if I look about a third of the way out from the head I should see a red float plane. Keven's mooring is in front of the plane and he will be happy to let us use it while we are in Sydney.

This is terrific news. I thank him profusely and tell him we will sail there today.

Tony asks, "Was it Keven Weldon you were talking to?"

"Why yes, do you know him?"

"Of course, he's one of the principle supporters of Simply Living." Tony comments.

I find Freddy looking through the gift shop and tell her we are leaving for Sydney right now.

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