If you're not careful, that video could be rated X.
Alan Huff of the state marine lab in St. Petersburg says there are no reliable statistics about "negative incidents" at the dolphin parks, but adds: "We do know that older male dolphins become less trainable and exhibit behavior that is undesirable for a swim program." This includes physical aggression as well as sexual overtures.
A Miami legal secretary who was recently accosted said trainers had warned her of the possibility. In the dolphin mating ritual, it's known as an "erection roll." The male flips the female over and … well, you can guess the rest.
Soon after entering the water, the secretary noticed that one of the dolphins was rubbing against her in an unmistakably amorous way. "He liked me a lot," she recalled. Suddenly the animal spun her in the water and swam across her back.
"The guy's yelling, 'Roll with it! Roll with it!' I'm going, 'What the hell's going on? Get him away from me!' I was really scared." It's not easy to say no to 700 pounds of tumescent porpoise.
The swim shows in the Keys forbid customers from grabbing or bothering the dolphins, but sometimes the animals get ideas of their own. They can be aloof, or extremely sociable.
Some animal rights advocates say the mammals are being exploited, which is nothing new. Porpoise shows have been a staple of Florida tourism for decades. Is swimming with a tourist any worse than jumping through a Hula Hoop for a hunk of dead mullet? Probably not.
What's more, doctors have reported great progress among disabled and retarded children who've been allowed to interact with the Keys porpoises.
Getting in the water with these magnificent animals is a thrill, but usually more for the humans than the dolphins. If you were to jump into Biscayne Bay near a wild school, it would most likely head for Bimini. Porpoises remain far less fascinated by us than we are by them.
While there are only four dolphin swim attractions in the country, some experts fear they will proliferate because of the money. Imagine the disaster if every tacky oceanside motel decided to buy a Flipper and invite tourists in for $50 a dip. Fortunately, regulations on the capture and display of marine mammals are fairly strict.
Within a few weeks, the U.S. government will decide what to do about the swim programs. Many feel the DNR's position is too harsh.
For example, Dr. Gregory Bossart, a veterinary pathologist at the Miami Seaquarium, says there is no evidence that diseases can be easily transmitted between dolphins and humans. But he also believes that swim programs must be rigidly controlled and each dolphin carefully selected for participation.
"Some are real friendly, some aren't," he says. "Personally, I would be hesitant about getting in the water with some of the male dolphins I know."
Will we end up swallowing this new tax?
April 2, 1990
Everything you need to know about the latest version of Metro's proposed 2 percent food-and-beverage tax:
Q. Where does the money go?
A. The estimated $3.5 million in annual revenue will go to tourism.
Q. Wait a second. Wasn't part of the tax supposed to pay for a new drug treatment center, and economic redevelopment in the black community?
A. You're thinking of the old tax, the one they screwed up last time. The new tax is just for the tourism industry.
Q. Why do we need a tax to promote that?
A. The Greater Miami Convention and Visitors Bureau says the money is necessary to finance a national advertising campaign to attract more tourists to South Florida ...
Q. Wait a second. The convention bureau—isn't that the same bunch who spent $^00,000 moving into lavish new offices?
A. Well, yeah—
Q. The same bunch who spent $270,000 on a fish-tank display at a travel convention in Budapest?
A. Hey, it was a very impressive fish tank—
Q. The same bunch who was literally going broke this time last year, borrowing $ i million to cover their red ink? And the top guy, George Kirkland—wasn't he the one who charged the bureau for $i,ooo-a-night hotel rooms in Europe?
A. Yeah, but—
Q. Well, no wonder they need the dough.
A. Hold on, now. Mr. Kirkland recently left to take another job ...
Q. What—gone already? Boy, he really fell head-over-heels in love with Miami, huh?
A. The point is, it's a new day with bold new leadership. The tourism people say we need this tax money to promote South Florida in a competitive national market.
Q. What's the big problem with our image?
A. Oh, the usual. Crime, drugs, poverty, corruption, chronic racial and ethnic tensions. Noth/ng that a catchy new slogan won't obscure.
Q. Other big cities such as New York and Chicago have similar social problems. How do these places attract so many tourists?
A. One word: sophistication. For example, in other major cities, civic leaders rarely have their semiautomatic assault rifles stolen from their bedrooms. Also, they tend not to name public streets after cocaine dealers. In Dade County, such recurring incidents have created an undesirable kind of national publicity.
Q. Say the tax passes. What if they waste the money on some really goofy advertising campaign, like: "Come to Miami! Sun, Surf—and DEA on Every Corner!"
A. Hey, that's not half-bad. Let me get a pencil.
Q. Seriously, how do we know they aren't going to spend the $3.5 million on more fish tanks in Budapest?
A. Don't worry. They'd never take a great idea like that and beat it into the ground.
Q. So, how does this new food tax differ from all the others that were proposed?
A. Apparently somebody's actually read this one.
Q. What businesses will be affected by the tax?
A. The new tax should apply only to hotels and motels, though you can never be sure. Last time we were told that only large restaurants would be affected, when in fact all establishments with liquor licenses would have been taxed.
Q. How did such a monumental fiasco happen?
A. No one seems to know. The Metro commissioners say they were never told precisely what the food tax would do. The lobbyists who were paid big bucks to push for the tax said they were too darn busy to examine it closely. Meanwhile the county attorney swears that he knew what it said all along, but no one ever asked him to explain—
Q. Whoa, back up. Do you mean to say that these geniuses were going to vote on a tax they didn't even understand?
A. That's about the size of it.
Q. So, how do we know they aren't pulling the same stunt again?
A. Hmmmm. That's a good question.
Q.Well?
A. I'm thinking, I'm thinking.
Santeria ritual not quite to tourists' tastes
April 5, 1991
On a recent drug raid in Northwest Dade, police discovered the messy remains of chickens, turtles and a headless goat. "I don't know what all this represents," mused a police spokesman, "but I know it's alarming."
A few days later, at the other end of the county, a policeman heard screams from a suburban house. He rushed inside to find a woman allegedly decapitating a chicken and drinking its blood.
In both cases, the cops had interrupted a Santeria ceremony in which live animals were being sacrificed to appease Afro-Cuban saints. Each saint is said to have its own preferred menu. Yemaya, for instance, favors ducks, turtles and goats. Ogun, a saint of iron, has a thing for red and white roosters. Oshun, the maiden of the river, prefers white hens.
By now, practically everyone in South Florida is aware of Santeria. The occasional dead chicken in a back yard canal scarcely merits a second glance. Not long ago, my son went fishing for peacock bass near the Miami airport. He caught no bass, but reeled in a hefty headless chicken wrapped in men's underwear, which he sportingly released to fight again another day.