The Art of Bonding with the Ocean
- Jul 30, 2025
- 3 min read
There are encounters you never forget.
And even though I’ve had so many close encounters that I’ve lost count, there’s one that lives inside me as if it happened just yesterday.
It was a calm day in Ojo de Liebre Lagoon. The water was very still, the sun caressed my skin, and the sky was so clear it seemed eager to witness what was about to unfold. A single whale approached — a massive, gentle female. She circled our boat, greeting those who were with me. But then… she stopped in front of me.
She lifted her head. I lowered mine.
We looked at each other.
There were no words.
No unnecessary gestures.
Just presence.
And in that sacred instant, our foreheads touched gently. It was almost an embrace. Not a sudden move. Not a wish or a show. It simply happened — as if we both had known it was right at the time. As if the sea had given us permission.
I felt her energy pass through me like an invisible wave.
Everything else faded: the voices, the engine, time itself.
It was just she and I, beating as one. An eternal moment.
Yes, there was contact. But it wasn’t just me who reached out to her. We reached for each other and she reached into me.
And even though I touched her…She’s the one who touched my soul.
We humans are naturally curious. Our five senses are designed to explore, to learn, to connect. Touch, especially, tends to be our favorite way of showing affection — a caress, a hug, a kiss. From a young age, we’re taught that to touch is to love.
But… do all species feel the same way?
Do we really touch out of love… or out of desire?
I once dreamed of touching a shark. I had one right in front of me. So close. So perfect. But he didn’t want to be touched. And even though I wanted to, I knew the right thing to do was just to be there. To stay. To observe. To give thanks.
Not all marine animals perceive contact as positive. Some species can get sick, stressed, or even change their natural behavior when touched. Possible consequences could include:
Damaging their protective layer (in fish, octopuses, nudibranchs, etc.)
Causing abrasions or wounds on sensitive skin.
Transmitting human bacteria or chemical residues.
Disrupting social behavior or vital cycles.
And perhaps most importantly: Making them lose their natural fear of humans.
You might think, “But I would never harm them!” And that’s fair. But not everyone is the same.
As long as practices like illegal whale hunting, shark finning, and the trade of seahorses for decoration still exist, animals must be able to tell the difference between danger and respect.
It’s not about saying “never touch.” It’s about learning how to feel — with awareness.
Sometimes, the greatest act of love is simply to
be. To observe with intention. To listen. To share space humbly.
When we quiet our constant urge to touch, the other senses awaken. Our vision sharpens. Our hearing deepens. Our breath syncronizes with the rhythm of the sea.
And something magical happens: We touch — without touching.
Loving the sea also means protecting it in our daily lives.
Here are a few ways to show real affection for marine life:
Use reef-safe sunscreen
Don’t collect shells or snails (they’re home to living beings)
Avoid toxic household products that could reach the ocean
Always bring a bag to pick up trash on beach walks
Be mindful of your steps, your voice, your footprint
My golden rule for every group is:“Take only photographs, leave only footprints.”And yes — it applies in the water too.
So next time you find yourself by the sea, whether in front of a whale, a crab, a tiny fish or a starfish — take a moment.
Breathe. Feel the privilege of being there. Don’t rush your hands. Don’t respond to the automatic impulse to touch.
Observe. Listen. Connect.
And if contact happens — let it be with awareness. With permission. With respect. And most importantly, with love.
With salty skin and a mindful gaze,
Sirena
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