(As told to Wade Doak) On 12 November 1976 I was out on charter boat Lady Jess from Tutukaka heading back from a day of fishing around the Poor Knights along with some friends. There were probably twelve or so people on board and most of them were either aft or on the bridge with the skipper. I was hanging out one of the cabin doors on the port side thinking of nothing in particular when the inside of my head seemed to come alive with high-pitched sounds and something my mind’s eye saw as multi-coloured dots zigzagging all over the place. If you’ve ever seen one of those electronic ping-pong games … It was like that, but in colour and multiplied by thousands, and the visual experience was connected with the auditory one. It wasn’t a very pleasant feeling because of its intensity but it only lasted a few seconds when BLAM!, out of the water right in front of me jumped a dolphin.
It was huge and I’ve never been that close to any creature of the sea before, but of all things I remember feeling, fear wasn’t among them … only a very intense awareness.
Its jump was a tight arc and when it reached the level of my face it seemed to hang in the air and look me straight in the eyes and then dive back in the water. It came up a short distance away one more time, and everyone on the boat ohhed and ahhed and then it disappeared. All in all I estimate the time involved to have been no more than sixty seconds.
The bouncing, multi-coloured dots were just as real as everything else. It seemed as if my perception had widened. The reality I had been experiencing a moment before was put into the background with this new overlay happening simultaneously — like a double exposure.
There was a hint of another dimension. The multi-coloured dots seemed to zip and zap all over the place, points of light moving infinitely away or close around without becoming larger or smaller, as if there were no up or down, or in or out, but a total 360-degree awareness.
There were more subtle movements too, slight changes in the colours and patterns of the “atmosphere” within which I seemed to be seeing the points of light. This atmosphere was crystal clear yet at the same time produced a sense of colour; a dimensional thing like layers of subtle, changing colours.
The discomfort was not caused by the intensity of the sound. It seemed I was not hearing in the usual sense but listening to sound registering in my head without coming through my ears. The sound was so beautiful, like some absolutely perfect electronic music. The discomfort came from trying to listen to it without hearing.
It would be like getting scared at going fast down a snow hill on a sled and dragging your feet and hands to slow yourself down. Then the thrill and excitement of going fast. Only I felt I was going downhill, afraid of taking off and going on forever. I felt that if I let myself hear and see then I’d disintegrate. It was not the sound or visual effects in themselves that produced discomfort and fear but my trying to handle them.
Both the sound experience and the visual seemed connected, just as the music and light at a rock concert can be connected, yet at the same time they were distinct and separate. Despite the intensity of the experience and discomfort, after it was over I felt as I would if someone I loved very much but hadn’t seen for some time had come into my life for a short visit. I felt relaxed … I felt comfortable … and I felt full of love for everyone.”
Close Encounters © Robert R. Feigel 2022 – All Rights Reserved
Pieces from a Puzzling Life 