Called Back to the Sea

I didn’t expect to return to Bimini so soon. After my first trip earlier this year, I thought the experience would carry me for a long while before I needed to come back.

But one Saturday morning in June, I woke up with tears streaming down my face. I had dreamed of the dolphins. My heart ached for their presence, for the way they made me feel: free, light, utterly here.

When I told my husband, he simply said, “Book another trip.” So I did.

And just like that, a few months later, I was back on the turquoise waters of Bimini, returning to the dolphins who had taught me how to breathe again.

This trip unfolded with its own rhythm. We met dolphins every single day, each encounter different and magical. On some days, they swam close for long stretches, circling and weaving among us. On others, they leapt high into the air again and again, more than twenty jumps in a row, reminding us that joy can be exuberant and wild.

One afternoon, we tried something new: tow lines trailing behind the boat. Holding on to the rings, I felt like a dolphin myself, flying just beneath the surface. They appeared suddenly beside and beneath me, eyes locking with mine in that unmistakable way. That is their gift: they show up when you least expect it, reminding you that magic cannot be planned, only received.

We also snorkelled above a sunken ship, drifting with stingrays, angelfish, and puffer fish. On another day, at a different spot, I even saw a barracuda gliding silently by. The sea was alive with colour and mystery, both vast and intimate.

Even the rain became part of the adventure. When a storm surrounded us, we crowded together inside the boat, drenched and laughing as we sped through smooth water. On our final day, two baby sharks swam past the bow, a final wink from the ocean.

As before, the people were as much a part of the journey as the dolphins. Strangers became companions. Meals stretched into conversations, and conversations deepened into mirrors that reflected back pieces of ourselves we sometimes forget. We shared stories, tears, and laughter. We listened, we witnessed, we celebrated each other. In this space, connection felt easy and natural, like another current running beneath the surface of everything.

On our final night, we gathered together and closed the week in a way that left each of us seen, honoured, and grateful. It was simple, tender, and unforgettable.

Two trips in one year might sound indulgent, but for me, it felt necessary. The first trip cracked me open. This one steadied me. It gave me more space to listen to my body, more mornings to write, more moments to simply be.

I came back because the dolphins called me. And they were right. I needed more time with them.

Here, I forget the rest of the world. I forget work and worry. I am simply present…breathing, laughing, floating, connected.

Bimini is medicine for my soul and for my mental health.

And the dolphins always know. 

Written by WildQuest guest, Dana Tillery, September 2025