Funny anecdotes, but I was being more serious. Dolphins aren’t all sweet and cuddly. They CAN be very aggressive, very territorial, very hostile, and even outright murderous to any animals that wander into their turf.
And adolescent male dolphins are not so different from teenage human males. They gather together in gangs and get some enjoyment out of tormenting anyone (other dolphins, humans, seals, whoever) that happen to pass by.
Or, you may catch them on a good day, when all they’ll want to do is play with you.
Just don’t buy into the Disneyesque image of dolphins. If a group of them swim near you, they don’t necessarily want to be your friend. They MAY want to ram you, or just mess with you.
I read a book about a guy who was stranded at sea in a liferaft for about 1 month IIRC. One thing that got me is that after his speargun’s fireing ability broke and he had to make it into a ‘hand spear’ he noticed that the fish he struggled to get w/ the self propelled gun, now looked impossiable to get, but the fish would basically swim closer and just hang there waiting to be speared. Sort of like the fish knew their place in the world and gave themselves up so this man could survive.
You could still make a case for horses since they (for the most part) allow us to harnass and ride them. We’re so used to it that it seems rather unremarkable until you look at their some of their relatives, such as zebras, who (with rare exceptions) really don’t allow it. Letting us climb on top of them and readily direct their every movement seems to involve a bit more cooperation than merely allowing us to domesticate and herd them.
It’s rather weak since their cooperation probably didn’t come as voluntarily as, say, dogs. However, you could argue that when we asked for their services, they didn’t object too much.
Are we restricting ourselves to cases where the decision for a relationship is mutual? Many species have chosen to throw in their lots with us, but most of them we consider despicable and pests. Rats, pigeons, cockroaches, and pretty much any other “varmint” you can think of fall into this category. I think that only for dogs and cats could the relationship really be considered mutually chosen.
Fish have a tendancy to hang out underneath any kind of floating platform or buoy. I doubt those fish even knew there was a human on the raft. It was probably just a pleasant shady place to hang out.
The link quality os fairly much non-existent. Astrorian has the truth prety much nailed. Dolphins are large wild animals that routinely kill other animals, including seals and other species of dolphin, for fun. They aren’t cuddly hippy types. Dolphin attacks are fairly rare because dolphins can’t readily eat people so of course they won’t hunt people. But just as people will occasionallly get attacked by dear, kangaroos, bears and other animals that have no intention of eating them, so people occasionally get attacked by dolphins.
Perhaps, but the book made it clear that the fish were very hard to catch, would not hang out that close when he could use the spear gun, but seemed almost to give themselves up after it broke. The author made it a point to indicate that the fish’s patterns changed. Since this was based on a true story, and the only one was that one guy, it is possible that he was going a bit batty.
More likely the techniques involved had changed. Fish take shelter under floating debris in part because it provides shelter fom seabirds. If a shape moves above them they will dart under the object or dive deeper.
The sensible explanation is that using a spear gun involved leaning both arms and the torso out over the edge of the raft to take aim at fish under the raft. I can’t see how else one could use it. With just a harpoon the fisherman would likely be lying on the raft, with no more than one forearm and head extended. Far less movement, far less incitement for the fish to move.
Fish aren’t smart, but they are programmed in fairly complex ways. That behaviour might seem like they were giving themselves up but can be easily explained as a normal response to a percieved predator.