South Florida Sun-Sentinel (Sunday)
IRELAND’S MISSING DOLPHIN ‘GOES WITH THE TIDE’
Boats still going out to search rocky coast for beloved Fungie
DINGLE, Ireland— The summer visitors have gone, and the winter rains and wind have reclaimed CountyKerry, a remote and beautiful region in the southwest of Ireland. But the residents of Dingle, accustomed to all that, have an even biggerworry: Fungie, the resident male, bottlenose dolphin that helped transform it froma small fishing and farming community into a global tourist destination, has vanished after 37 years.
Twoweeks after the last confirmed sighting of Fungie, boats still go out every day— storms and ocean swell permitting— to search the rocky coast for signs of the missing dolphin. At the narrow mouth of the harbor, where he spent most of his time, people with binoculars scan thewaves for a glimpse of his dorsal fin. Yet hope is diminishing.
Kevin Flannery, a marine biologistwhobuilt a popular aquarium on the back of the Fungie phenomenon, said the dolphin had gone missing before but only ever for a day or two.
“That’swhy the tourist boats could afford to offer you yourmoney back if youwent out and didn’t see him,” he said.“Hewas very reliable. This doesn’t look good.”
“What’s happening here is a bereavement,” said
Caroline Boland, a spokeswomanfor the Dingle PeninsulaTourism Alliance. “People are devastated to think he might be gone. It’s like a member of the family dying. He brought magic, and he inspired us, this beautiful wild creaturewholived at the mouth of the harbor.”
Solitary dolphins— ones that live alone, and sometimes settle in one area, rather than range the seas in sociable pods— are not unusual. But Fungie, estimated to be over 40 years old, was remarkable both for his longevity— the median age of a bottle nose dolphin in the wild is believed to vary between 8 and 17 years— and his friendliness to swimmers and boats. Hewas first noticed in Dingle harbor in 1983, but itwas several years before he gained national fame in the Irish news media, and then his reputation spread abroad.
CountyKerrywas already a global tourist destination, thanks to its rolling green hills, barren mountains and rugged, wave-battered coast. But most visitors favored the southern stretches of the county, in particular the famous “Ring of Kerry” around Killarney andKenmare. InDingle, Fungie is widely credited with addingKerry’s northernmost peninsula to the mainstream tourismmap.
“WhenFungie came 37 years ago itwas a real back
water. Therewas nothing here but fishing and farming, and theywere both in decline,” said Boland of the tourism alliance, noting that emigrationwas high and jobs scarce.
“Back then, all the businesseswould close from Halloween to Easter. But then artists and creative people started coming here to settle,” she said. “National Geographic did a piece on him. Chefs came and opened good restaurants. The sustainable jobs came after him.”
Aswell as commerce, the dolphin also spawned legends. Not long after he came to national prominence, aDublin newspaper reported rumors that a rival Kerry villagewas attempting to lure him away by bribing him with fish. But, said Michael O’Neill of Dingle BoatTours, one of
two groups that operate dolphin-spotting trips in the harbor, Fungie always insisted on catching his own mackerel and pollock, whichmay have been his undoing.
“Hewas slowing down a bit lately, so maybe he couldn’t catch them any more,” O’Neill said. “But hewould never take a fish fromyou, not even a live one.”
Another popularmyth sought to account for Fungie’s remarkable longevity by insinuating that there have been three different dolphins, one after the other, with local businesses conspiring to maintain the Fungie brand.
But experts say that solitary dolphins show up infrequently and at random, and not all are so friendly. The people of Doolin, another scenic coastal resort up the coast in County Clare, were delightedwhen Dusty, a female dolphin, settled in the area over 20 years ago, but later had to put up warning signs when she began ramming and injuring swimmers.
Dingle’s lucrative dolphin-watching industry — a dozen boats charged up to 15 euros, or about $18, per adult and 8 euros, or about $9.50, per child for an hourlong trip towatchFungie play in thewater— will be the immediate victim if he is gone. But operators are trying to be philosophical.
“Of course, our income will be down, but that’s life,” saidMary O’Neill, also of Dingle BoatTours, whose father operated the very first Fungie-watching trips. “We always knew this daywould come, that he wouldn’t be around forever.
We’ll find some otherway.”
Despite the coronavirus lockdown, the darkening skies and the loss of its belovedmascot, there is still optimism in Dingle. Ona storm-lashed Saturday night, theReel Dingle fish and chips restaurant, one of the few businesses still open, though only for takeaway, was doing a brisk trade for local customers lured by high-end specialties like monkfish and calamari, fresh offthe boats.
“He’s been gone before, but there’s never been this muchhysteria,” said Colm ÓTreasaigh, bagging up orders for customerswaiting in the rain. “It’ll be hard on the boats, butwe’ll probably beOK.”
“He camewith the tide,” said a youngmanwhowas operating the deep fryer at the back of the store. “What comeswith the tide, goes with the tide.”
Fungie mayhave put Dingle on themap, but few local people expect the tourist trafficto fall off again whenhe’s gone. The peninsula today teems with local festivals and attractions.
Graham Coull, a Scot whocame to Dingle as master distiller at the town’snewwhiskey and gin distillery, said he believes the tourism infrastructure built on the Fungie phenomenon will survive him.
“He brought people to Dingle, and with us being a visitor attraction too, the Dingle Distillery benefited fromthe footfall,” he said. “But this is a resilient town, and they’ll bounce back.”