Captain Abby's Dolphins

In the flat strike of afternoon sun, we were escorted (first slowly, then not) into the bay by a rubber-boat captain named Abby. He promised dolphins. He told stories about strand feedings—dolphins who assaulted the muddy margins of low-tide creeks with gang slams against miniature fish. It happens nowhere in the world but here, he said, and he said, too, that only a privileged few have seen it. We wanted to see it. We did. Strand feedings of a violent magnitude—600 pound dolphins throwing