OPO RESTORES A LEGEND

Press, Volume XCIII, Issue 27920, 17 March 1956, Page 5

OPO RESTORES A LEGEND

[From the “Sydney Morning Herald'

March 13]

Yesterday, Opo. the friendly dolphin of Hokianga Harbour, was buried with due solemnity beside the waters in which he—or. as is now known, she—loved to frolic. Very properly the hotel at Opononi, the township from which she took her name, was closed for an hour. Yet one has a feeling that even now the last has not been heard of Opo. the dolphin which revived our faith in mankind by preferring human beings to fish. Opo’s hcdy lies a-moulding in the sand, but her bones will be disinterred by the Auckland Museum after a suitable—and necessary—interval. For no-one has yet pointed out that in addition to amusing countless holidaymakers in New Zealand, Opo has gone a long way to restoring a very ancient legend. (Anyone can destroy a legend; it takes a dolphin to restore one). The Greeks and Romans firmly believed, for instance, that dolphins would —and occasionally did-—make friends with man. Arion, a semi-mythical poet of most uncertain date, was thrown overboard by sailors his way home to Corinth when he was rescued by a dolphin and carried aafely to shore. Admittedly this story ,s pretty steep as well as being semimythical. but the Elder Pliny had a much more circumstantial tale. In the ninth book of his excellent Natural history he tells the charming story of a boy who made friends with' a dolphin and rode on his back every day until he was carried out to sea and drowned. Generations of scholars have sniffed at this story as typical of Pliny's uncritical mind, though in fact similar legends are found in other parts of Jhe world. Now. however. New Zealand has provided definite proof that a dolphin can be induced to take Part in mixed bathing. If Opo could m 1 c? w hy not other dolphins? “Sugar. Speaker.” said Disraeli once, glaring at some unfortunate member who ®ad tittered at him. “who will laugh at sugar now?” And thousands of Pdoud New Zealanders will point to s grave, murmuring, “Dolphins, Scholar, who will laugh at Pliny now?”