DIVING WITH DOLPHINS, SWIMMING WITH SHARKS - A FLORIDA ADVENTURE.

Byline: Roger Bloom Orange County Register

Rays of sunlight dance eerily through the murky water as I float on the surface, straining to see beneath me.

Peering through my mask, I take a quick, sharp inhalation through my snorkel. Was that a movement over there on the right? I'm not sure.

A large faint shadow passes under me like a torpedo - big and fast, right at the edge of visibility. But where did it go?

I scan back to my right and discover with a start that I'm no longer alone. The first thing I see is the bulk of the animal, and the dorsal fin, about four feet away. My heart jumps. Then I see the eye, gazing confidently at me, unblinking.

Then the amused smile.

The dolphin scoots off and disappears into the murk.

When my wife, Vicki, and I took a dive trip to Florida and the Bahamas, we saw brightly colored corals and fans, beautiful fish by the thousands, lobsters, eels, rays and stars, a turtle and hundreds of fearsome-looking barracuda.

But what will remain in our memories forever are the spiritual high of cavorting with playful dolphins and the primal fear of being eye-to-coldly-staring-eye with sharks.

``They're the men-in-gray-flannel-suits of the ocean,'' said divemaster Paul Christman on the way out to Shark Alley, a sandy-bottomed strip between two reef formations off New Providence Island in the Bahamas. ``The other fish, they're pretty and just hang around the reefs and seem to be taking it pretty easy. But the sharks, they're all business.''

And we were getting ready to join them for a power lunch.

Six of us would be making the dive today.

``They're not interested in us as food,'' Christman said, explaining that people are big enough to discourage the reef sharks. He advised us, however, not to point or wave our hands, as the sharks might mistake one for a fish. His last tip: ``Don't try to pet the sharks.''

A short time later, there we were, six divers on our knees, arms folded tightly across our chests, as Mark Lessard, shoulders and arms protected by chain mail, opened a bucket filled with fish and inserted a 6-foot spear.

At least two dozen sharks, which had begun gathering when the dive boat first dropped anchor, swarmed around us, almost brushing my elbow.

And there I was: no cage, no chain mail, not even a spear. My heart was pounding. I could see their muscles ripple as they swam past, each tail slowly swishing like that of a cat stalking a bird. I looked in their eyes and saw cold blackness - completely without emotion, uncaring.

I was so glad they didn't think of us as food. Because food didn't stand a chance. They gulped down the fish pieces greedily, lunging for them as soon as they came out of the bucket.

After a while, I did get an urge to pet one as they swam by. But it was an easily resisted urge.

Then two sharks went for the same piece of fish, which came off the spear, and they contested it as they swam - right toward us, jaws working frantically to grab and hold the prize. One finally got control of the food and quickly swallowed it about three feet from our masks, then veered up and over our heads.

Back on the boat, Vicki turned to me and said, ``I can't believe we did that.''

Our first dolphin swim - at the Dolphin Research Center on Grassy Key - was serendipity. The center comprises several fenced-in lagoons that are home to about 20 dolphins. When two swimmers failed to show up for a reserved dolphin encounter, we took their places, swimming with dolphins A.J. and Teresa as a trainer put them through their paces. They came to us for petting, delivering fishy kisses on our cheeks, rising from the water and presenting their flippers for us to ``shake.''

This, I thought, is very cool.

The trainer told me to swim to the middle of the lagoon and watch my right. When the dolphin swims by, she said, grab the dorsal fin.

But when I got away from the small dock, not one but both dolphins came up to give me a tow. So, with a dolphin in each hand, I went for a thrilling circuit of the lagoon, water rushing over my shoulders and back, hand-to-fin with two powerful but benign creatures.

The next morning, we went to Dolphins Plus in Key Largo for another dolphin dive. There the dolphins, and the rules, were different. Although Dolphins Plus is home to several trained dolphins - mostly ``retired'' performers - the dolphins we'd be swimming with, six female adults and a male calf, were untrained, essentially wild. We were not to try to touch them, not to swim after them, just slowly swim around the lagoon and wait for them to come to us.

Visibility was poor in the lagoon, which is on an inland canal, and the dolphins were shy. I could hear the dolphins' rapid sonar clicks, like a fingernail running along the teeth of a comb. Figuring I'd show them I just wanted to play, I dived to the bottom about 10 feet down and did rolls and somersaults. I caught glimpses of them, but none approached.

Then one of the handlers gave Vicki and me a plywood board about two feet square and told us to take turns swimming while holding it up in front of us.

``They like wakes,'' he said.

It worked. As I swam across the lagoon - working hard to push the board and create a good wake - dolphins would crisscross in front of me.

After that, they became more playful. Soon, my underwater camera ran out of film, and the camera began to automatically rewind. As it whirred and clicked, I suddenly was surrounded by all seven dolphins, jostling each other for a look, just inches away from me. And I was out of film!

When the rewinding was done, the dolphins backed off again - except one, who I later found out was Nicki. She stayed right in front of me, eye-to-eye about two feet away, for a couple of minutes that seemed like hours.

My heart was pounding with the adrenalin born of exhilaration. We looked at each other for a long time. I saw in her eye - what? Not intelligence, which was what I was looking for, so much as interest and an overriding sense of calm. She was comfortable in her element, confident enough to welcome and inspect this human who had come into her space but seemed to be behaving himself.

As we left the lagoon, the dolphins followed us along the edge as we walked back toward the main building. We waved goodbye sadly.

``I'm so glad we did that!'' Vicki said exuberantly.

We were smiling - like dolphins - for days.

On Location

Want to swim with the fishes? Here are dive companies that'll take you underwater:

Dive Dive Dive, Nassau, Bahamas; [phone]. Shark-diving trips leave Wednesdays and Saturdays at 8:30 a.m. Two dives per trip, a wall dive and a feeding dive. $100 per person, tanks included. Camera rental $45, includes a roll of film. Video of your dive, $55.

Stuart Cove's, Nassau, Bahamas; [phone]. Shark-diving trips can be any day, depending on sign-ups. Two dives per trip, a wall dive and a feeding dive. $110.

Dolphins Plus, Key Largo, Fla.; [phone]. Orientation lecture and in-water encounter. $75 for a half-hour in the water; $125 for an hour. (Go for the hour; the dolphins just begin to get friendly after a half-hour.) Those younger than 18 must be accompanied in the water by a parent or guardian. No one younger than 10 allowed in the water. You'll need fins, a mask and a snorkel.

Dolphin Research Center, Marathon Shores, Fla.; [phone]. Orientation video and lecture, tour of facility and in-water encounter $90. Children 5-12 must be accompanied by a paying adult. Reservations required.

Is a dolphin dive for you? Yes, if you're a good swimmer. No, if ``Flipper'' scares you. Yes, if you're interested in interspecies communication. No, if you like to be the smartest one in the lagoon.

Is a shark dive for you? Yes, if you're a certified diver. No, if you don't like being surrounded by large, hungry, merciless wild animals with very sharp teeth. Yes, if you like bungee jumping, sky diving or freeway driving. No, if you'd rather not think of yourself as fish food.

CAPTION(S):

Photo, Box

Photo: (color) A denizen of waters off the Bahamas tak es a break from feeding to cast a cold eye at a photographer.

Roger Bloom/Orange County Register

Box: On Location (see text)