As the dolphin playfully swam under and around our tender, she growled and stamped on the bottom of the boat with her front legs, much the same way a polar bear will rear up on its hind legs and crash down with its weight to break through ice. She stood up on the edge of the pontoons and growled and barked and became increasingly distressed by this dolphin "assault." We had to abandon the prawning and return her to the mother ship before we could continue our mission.

Photo by Rick LeBlancKona goes for a swim.

Another time, while exploring from our tender in Smith Inlet just north of Cape Caution, we were treated to the familiar sound of a whale's blow hole. Much to our delight, two humpbacks were feeding in the area along the shoreline. Kona saw them surface and began to bark. They disappeared under the water for a few minutes and then surfaced again, this time closer to our tender. Kona was now on high alert, barking each time they came up. One of the whales must have become curious about the commotion and did an "eye spy," coming close to the boat and out of the water just enough to look around. Kona did some quick calculations, and took a step back from the bow.

LAND AND SEA

We have found Kona to be a great alarm system not only on water but also on land. As we were trekking through the forest to explore a nearby fresh water lake, Kona suddenly stopped. Every hair on her back, from her stubby tail to her two velvet ears, was standing straight up. She began a low growl and could not be convinced to go forward. I had never seen her like that before, nor have I since.

Because of her unusual behavior, I acknowledged her warning – I would not take one step either. We could not see or hear anything, but she was certainly uneasy. The nose knows, I thought. After waiting about five minutes, making a lot of noise and throwing sticks and rocks into the brush, I felt comfortable to move forward again. Kona agreed and we proceeded to the lake without incident.

Another afternoon, while surveying the shoreline from the bow of the boat, Kona started barking and growling and the hair again stood up on her back. This time, the danger was a small flock of Angora goats, standing on their back legs eating the leaves off the trees. Kona thereafter kept a sharp lookout for goat, sheep or marmot attacks from the shore near our anchorage.

Kona herself attracts a fair amount of attention. My sons call her a "chick magnet." We have met many interesting and friendly people because of our dog. Everywhere we go, people stop us to ask questions about her, the first inevitably being "is she friendly?" After she leans up against you for a back rub, you have the answer.

After five years cruising with Kona, we have grown very used to having her around. We hate to leave her when we go kayaking or SCUBA diving. As soon as she sees us haul out the tanks on the stern and hears the air blast out as we set up our gear, she heads for the salon and stays out of the way. She has perfected the "hang dog" look when we pull away from the boat. And she sleeps on our bed while we are gone, a revenge tactic that would go unnoticed if not for the rumpled sheets.

A dog on board, large or small, can be a great alarm, a funny friend and a personal trainer to keep you active and moving. Because of Kona we have found some of the most beautiful beaches and hiking on this planet. Walking those beaches and trails early in the morning and late in the evening are some of our best cruising memories. Some people have asked us if we will choose a smaller dog next time, some breed that doesn't take up the same amount of space as two adults standing on our boat.

The answer is a resounding no.