Once in a while one's karma or destiny lines one up for an experience of a lifetime. In this case we felt it was more like divine intervention than anything else.

Believe it or not in planning a trip to Tasmania and South Australia last year, I had heeded my daughter's pleas to swim with dolphins by forking out a large amount of money to have us all go out in a boat on a tour, be tethered to a rope, and hope that dolphins would approach us. No guarantees, but money up front; this was to be in Adelaide, after our Tasmanian interlude. It was perhaps the one single planned event that we looked forward to more than anything else. We made our momentous journey over three days, in three planes, and one ferry (great excitement for the kids) over to Tasmania, then to pick up a car and ride across the island to Hobart. Long, but delightful and, yes, I would do it again, frankly.

Meeting up with the cousins in Hobart was no less of an exciting moment that anything up until then. A few days into the holiday, kids mooching around one hot afternoon, my sister-in-law calls out loudly from her deck overlooking Blackman's Bay. Dolphins in the water. Sixty seconds later, cousins, kids were on the beach and wading into the surf. I followed sensing this was going to be something special.

I soon realised we were all slightly out of our depth. Two of the children: my Antonie and cousin Julia could swim less efficiently than the others. Sadly Julia was ahead of me and calling for assistance. Antonie, now behind, wanted my attention also. I knew he could swim towards me easily, and he was closer to shore, so I made for cousin Julia. As I reached her they got to us. At least three swam in and around our legs. I could feel them "brushing" against my skin, yet without touching me at all. The kids were shrieking and all I could think of doing was diving down below the surface to get a glimpse of one, and to perhaps touch one. They were not going to have that happen and their agility and speed simply astounded me, notwithstanding many dolphins shows and demonstrations since a child: nothing can prepare you for the force and power of their physical presence when so near you, and in the water.

Two sped past and around me, deftly ducking from my outstretched arms. They made straight for Antonie. One must have touched him, albeit gently, and he decided this was just too much. He cried out and made for the shore. My daughter Maria, more or less level with me, saw her brother was in mild distress and forfeited a possible closer encounter with her favourite creature and helped him to the beach. My excuse was to stick with Julia, but I must be honest in saying I was more intent on my own personal encounter with a dolphin than going to Antonie's rescue, my main justification being that he had just won his first gala at school that year. All was resolved as Antonie could relate his story to his mother on the beach as she nervously aimed the video camera at our shrieks.

Maria was rewarded by being able to return the our pod of humans, while the dolphins repeatedly visited the children by swimming in and around them. I had taken Maria's goggles from her before she swam to shore, and for those precious, brief few minutes I had been able to focus somewhat on the larger than imagined, highly agile bodies of the dolphins beneath the water surface.

It was breathtaking and humbling. I was constantly aware that these creatures are very much in control beneath the water. And that I was not. As the two that made for Antonie passed me so quickly, they both cocked their heads to check me out. I noticed them swim past him, towards the shoreline. In fact had they not turned when they did, they might have been washed onto the beach. Not likely. I have an indelible memory of their sleek bodies powerfully thrusting forward in order to accelerate madly into the rushing, crashing waves that flowed over them. A sight I shall not ever forget.

My wife stayed faithfully on the beach, until we came out of the water, the dolphins having swam back out to sea. I suggested she swim out and see what would happen. Amazingly, as I filmed her, five dolphins spotted, or sensed her lonely presence from more than five hundred metres out. Even now the sight of them rushing towards her to investigate, filmed from far away, is breathtaking in its sheer moment of excitement and anxiety. She kept her ground and for more than five minutes they swam around and beneath her, before giving a gymnastic display and then disappearing.