Story Summary- When a young dolphin appears in the lagoon, the castaways formulate a rescue plan that involves training the creature to go and fetch help. But one certain castaway becomes emotionally attached to the animal, and soon finds himself with another 'little buddy'.

All GI characters are property of the one and only Sherwood Schwartz, who I hope is now sharing a laugh or two up there with Gilligan, Skipper and the Howells.


Flipper and The Skipper

Jonas Grumby would not describe himself as an unhappy man. He'd be the last to admit that he ever suffered from bouts of depression. But there were times when he became introspective, mournful, and keen to be alone for a little while, if only for an hour or so, to collect his thoughts.

The Maritime Board had concluded that the wrecking of the Minnow had not been his fault. If anything, the Coast Guard were guilty of gross negligence by giving out the wrong weather report. However, there were times when the Skipper would visit the spot on the beach where the Minnow had spent her final days and stand where the helm used to be, letting the sand sift through his fingers and blow away on the breeze, still feeling responsible for her fate.

My poor Minnow. Rest in peace, old girl.

Or should that be in pieces, he'd think, spying a chunk of her bow, or a plank from her stern, covered now with seaweed and small, scuttling crabs that had made what was left of her poor, broken body their home.

The Skipper sighed and looked out to sea. There was no doubting this was a beautiful island. The fresh, saltwater smell of the ocean as it dashed itself on the shore, the wheeling seabirds, the dazzling azure sky and the clouds that played above his head, changing shape constantly, chasing each other, melding together like long lost friends. The fine-grained sand, too hot to walk on with bare feet during the day, but cool and welcoming in the evening when the beach was perfect for sitting around a campfire and toasting chunks of coconut and pineapple. Sure, there were people in the big cities who'd pay premium rates for living on a paradise isle like this. Six months at home and six months here, the winter months maybe. The perfect life.

Wrongway Feldman wanted out of civilisation altogether, but the Skipper found he missed it. He missed the hustle and bustle of the marina. Talking to the other boat owners, idle chit-chat over a beer on deck as they watched the landlubbers go by.

Pretty girls. Lord, how he missed pretty girls! Thank goodness there were two of them here on the island, even if Mary Ann and Ginger had long ago ceased to be just a couple of pretty girls and had become firm and lasting friends, more like sisters now than anything else. Well, in Mary Ann's case maybe. The jury was still out on Ginger. Besides, his little buddy Gilligan had sort of claimed Mary Ann as his own, even if the boy would never admit it in a million years.

The Skipper smiled to himself. Gilligan would be highly indignant at the mere suggestion that he might just have himself a girlfriend here on the island, having tried very hard in the last couple of years to give the impression he was a man and not just a boy. Unfortunately, Gilligan's idea of being a man involved scoffing at romance and acting as though he were above it all. But it was obvious, at least to the Skipper. Gilligan liked Mary Ann and even though he acted as if he didn't care, the first mate had developed eyes in the back of his head where the young Kansas farm girl was concerned.

The Skipper sighed gustily, letting the last of the sand fall through his fingers. Why do I always end up thinking about Gilligan? I can't even think about pretty girls without an image of what Gilligan's reaction would be. How many times on a charter tour years ago had his little buddy fumbled a pretty girl's drink, or tripped over his own feet and ended up huddled below deck, stammering like a loon because a pretty girl had smiled at him? And now that a young woman genuinely liked him, he was too busy feigning disinterest in order to protect himself from heartache.

The Skipper grinned and shook his head, coming out of his dark mood. It was hard to stay gloomy thinking back over all the crazy things his little buddy had done over the years.

The Skipper ambled back along the beach to the start of the lagoon path and began wending his way inland. There were huge orange hibiscus flowers here, big as Mrs. Howell's teacup saucers, nodding their heads coquettishly. He brushed his fingertips across their fat stamens as he passed by, rubbing the yellow pollen between his fingers. Yes sir, it really was a beautiful island. He just wished sometimes there were more than seven people on it. And he smiled at that too- was he finally beginning to think of this place as his home?

The calm, stillwater lagoon was surprisingly big, and the path curved around it, hugging the shore. The Skipper walked along for a few minutes, enjoying the sights and sounds, admiring the vibrant tropical flowers. There was a time when that's all he would have called them. Flowers. But thanks to the Professor, the Skipper could now tell a cheerful hibiscus from a heliconia (which he always knew of as the slightly less romantic Lobster Claw) and bright red and yellow anthuriums shaped like a heart with a yellow doohickey sticking out of the middle. Okay, so his flower knowledge was still pretty basic, but he was proud of it nonetheless.

He was admiring a particularly bright yellow hibiscus, which even he knew to be the State flower of Hawaii, when he heard a distinct and wholly unfamiliar noise. He let go of the hibiscus and looked up, puzzled. The noise seemed to have come from the lagoon. He stopped and cocked his head towards the water. He waited, but heard nothing more. Finally he resumed walking. Must have been a bird flying by. A parrot, most likely. They can make the weirdest noises sometimes.

He began to think about lunch. Mary Ann will be preparing something to eat right about now. A few moments passed and just as the Skipper thought he must have been imagining things, suddenly he heard the strange noise again. This time it was louder. A chattering, whistling, staccato sound, almost like laughing. The Skipper stopped again, frowning to himself. Was it a monkey? He'd never heard a monkey whistle.

The Skipper's face twisted into a slightly annoyed grimace. Maybe it was Gilligan. Gilligan made some pretty weird noises himself. Was Gilligan hiding in the bushes, ready to play a trick on him? He couldn't tell exactly where the sound was coming from, so he went over to the nearest coconut tree and began shaking it.

"Gilligan!" he shouted irritably, "If you're up there, I want you to come down right this minute! That's an order!"

With that he clutched the tree trunk with both hands and gave it one hard shake, enough to rustle its branches high above. He was rewarded with a coconut, which plummeted down and landed squarely on his foot. He shouted in pain and began hopping up and down on the other foot, clutching his poor throbbing tootsies. As he hopped around, biting back a mouthful of choice sailor's oaths, he happened to look out towards the center of the lagoon and saw what had been making the noise.

It was a dolphin, and a young one at that. It was standing half out of the water on its tail, laughing and chattering with its mouth wide open, sunlight gleaming off its sleek, wet skin. The Skipper's mouth fell open in wonder. They had never seen a dolphin in the lagoon in all three and a half years they'd been shipwrecked. He was speechless. Flabbergasted. He moved to the edge of the path, his sore toes forgotten. He parted the bushes and got as close to the water's edge as he could. The dolphin disappeared smoothly beneath the water, leaving nothing but ripples behind. The Skipper looked around, not knowing where the creature had gone. Within moments, the dolphin reappeared right in front of him, breaking soundlessly through the surface and blowing a spray of water directly into the Skipper's face. It seemed to wink at him. Then it swam off, laughing its high pitched chattering laugh, cheekily flicking its tail.

"Why, you little!" the Skipper protested, but soon he was laughing as well, laughing and wiping the saltwater off his face with his big meaty hands. The dolphin carried on disappearing and reappearing, swimming in a circle, sending up sprays of water that dazzled with rainbows as the sunlight winked and glinted through the fine, almost invisible droplets.

The Skipper suddenly knew why Gilligan got so freakishly excited when he saw things in the lagoon. This was a monumental discovery! Dolphins were intelligent beings! They were friendly and approachable. Maybe this one could finally get them rescued off the island!

The Skipper turned away from the lagoon and broke into a lumbering run. "Gilligaaaaaaaan!" he cried, ignoring the fact that he was becoming breathless already. "Professsoooorrr! Gilligaaaaaan! Professssoooooorrrr!"

He barrelled along the path, hearing the dolphin's chattering laugh echoing behind him. There was no time to waste! It could swim away at any moment!

"Gilligaaaaan! Professooooorrr!"

The Skipper hurtled off the path and into the clearing to be greeted with the sight of Gilligan sitting at the table happily plowing his way through a huge platter of fruit. Lost in his own little world, the first mate shovelled grapes and melon chunks into his mouth as the Skipper appeared like a big blue whirlwind, stopping just short of knocking the whole table over. The big man stood there red-faced and panting heavily, his big, beefy arms spread wide and palms smacking down hard onto the table top. Gilligan jumped and dropped his grapes. He stared back, his eyes as wide as dinner plates, his lips glistening with fruit juice.

Resisting the urge to slap Gilligan with his cap and tell him that the food he was munching his way through was meant for everybody, the Skipper took a moment to get his breath back and then started gabbling about his discovery. Alerted by the noise, the Professor and Mary Ann appeared, and then Ginger drifted over, and finally the Howells, not wanting to be left out of whatever was causing the disturbance in case there was some good gossip to be found.

"Slow down, Skipper," said the Professor, his tanned and handsome forehead creased by a thoughtful frown. "We can't understand you!"

The Skipper was annoyed that it was taking him so long to breathe normally, especially with everyone staring at him as though he were crazy. "A d...a d...a d...a dol...a dolph..." he panted.

"Adolph?" said Gilligan, peering up at the Professor. "Who's Adolph?"

"It better not be who I'm thinking it is," muttered Mr. Howell.

"Really, Thurston," said Mrs. Howell, with a look of stern disapproval.

"I was joking, my dear," her husband replied, patting her arm.

The Skipper shook his head, waving a hand in the air. "Not Adolph," he said finally. "Dolphin. A dolphin! There's a dolphin in the lagoon!"

There were murmurs of 'a dolphin?' all around the gathered group of castaways, followed by curious looks and puzzled frowns. Then the Professor spoke up, stroking his chin at the same time.

"Do you mean delphinus delphis?"

"No, he means dolphin," Gilligan said helpfully.

"Yes, Professor," the Skipper agreed, "I mean dolphin. A real, live dolphin, out there in the lagoon!"

Gilligan grinned smugly at the Professor. Meanwhile the Professor was starting to look enthusiastic at last.

"Why, it must have gotten lost from the pod," he said.

Gilligan stopped looking smug. His eyebrows raised. "Pod?" he repeated. "Dolphins come from pods?" He looked at Mary Ann. "I thought only peas came in pods. And pod people."

Mary Ann muffled a giggle behind her hand as the Professor carried on talking.

"A collective of dolphins is called a pod, Gilligan. They're sociable animals, always swimming in large family groups. This one must have become separated from the group."

"The pod," said Gilligan.

"You mean it's lost?" said the Skipper.

"Yes," replied the Professor. "If it's swimming around in the lagoon then it's probably lost."

"Like us," Gilligan said. "We're lost."

"Well, not quite like us," the Professor smiled. "It can easily rejoin the ocean if it can find its way out of the lagoon. We'd just have to show it the way."

"Well, that's what I was thinking, Professor," the Skipper said excitedly, his pulse rate back to normal at last. "Maybe we could train it to go and fetch help!"

The girls became excited themselves. Mary Ann clapped her hands together and laughed while Ginger closed her eyes and smiled seductively, her head once more filled with thoughts of Hollywood and stardom.

"Yeah, maybe we could train it to swim up to the nearest boat and tell them where we are!" Gilligan nodded, keeping his eyes on the Professor and pointedly ignoring the Skipper's hard stare.

"Dolphins can't actually talk, Gilligan, but we could certainly try to train it to bring a boat to us," the Professor mused.

"Maybe it could carry a sign around its neck," Gilligan suggested. "Like, 'HELP!' or 'Sos'!"

"Gilligan, would you stop calling it 'Sos'?" the Skipper said, tersely. "I keep telling you. It's Ess Oh Ess!"

Gilligan picked sulkily at the grapes until finally the Skipper yanked the platter away from his grasping fingers, which sent grapes bouncing across the table and onto the sand.

"Well, I think we should all go down to the lagoon right now and see this dolphin for ourselves," the Professor said, asserting himself as their unofficial leader, as he always did when firm decisions needed to be made.

"I agree!" said Mary Ann, asserting herself as someone who agreed.

To the sound of murmured consent from the other castaways, the Man of Science motioned for everyone to follow him and off they went. The Professor, with Mary Ann and Ginger right behind him, then the Howells, and finally Gilligan and the Skipper, engaged in one of their little fluster fests until the Skipper finally got behind his little buddy and manhandled him bodily onto the path.


At the lagoon, the seven castaways piled onto the beach and immediately made for the shoreline. The surface of the lagoon was calm and flat, rippled only now and then by a gentle breeze. There was no sign of a dolphin, or anything else. The little waterfall trickled and splashed. Ginger and Mary Ann shielded their eyes from the sun and looked out across the shimmering surface, while Gilligan ran excitedly along the path to see if he could spot anything from the other side.

"Well, I must say this is very interesting," Mr. Howell muttered, sarcastically.

"What exactly are we looking for again?" asked Mrs. Howell, staring at the Skipper.

"A dolphin, Mrs. Howell," said the Skipper. "There was definitely a dolphin here!"

"And I'm Joan of Arc," the millionaire grumbled.

"I don't think I know what a dolphin looks like," Mrs. Howell admitted, fiddling with her pearls. She sounded a little distressed.

"Well, it looks like a big fish, Mrs. Howell. And it leaps up out of the water, like this." The Skipper arced his arm up and over and made a splashing sound with his voice. "And then it..." he stopped abruptly as every single castaway saw what happened next. The dolphin appeared in the middle of the lagoon and did exactly what the Skipper had just been describing. It leapt out of the water in a high arc and seemed to hover, frozen in midair, while the sun sparkled through the water that trailed from its sleek grey body before plunging back below the surface with a huge splash that caused dozens of small waves to ripple out and hit the shore, soaking the girls' feet and making them squeal with delight.

"My goodness!" Mrs. Howell declared, her hand flying to her mouth.

Meanwhile, further along the path, Gilligan started whooping and yelling, throwing his hat into the air.

"Did you see that! Did you see that!"

"Well, Joan," the Skipper said smugly to Mr. Howell, "did you see that?"

"An optical illusion," muttered Mr. Howell. "Caused by hunger."

"It's a dolphin, Mr. Howell. Just like I said."

"No-one likes a showoff," the millionaire retorted, sulking.

"Well, you were right, Skipper," said the Professor, just as Gilligan rejoined the group, his eyes wide, almost jumping up and down with boyish enthusiasm. "It does indeed appear to be a specimen from the genus delphinus delphis."

"Not only that," Gilligan said breathlessly, "it's a dolphin! A real, live dolphin!"


...to be continued