Gazing at us with soft, benevolent eyes, our new marine friends seemed to be fairly begging us to come and play. With a casual roll they flipped over in a humpback-like dive and lolled on the bottom of the sandy rock pool, just a few feet below where we lazily kicked our fins.

I dipped over into a dive and joined my new pal on the bottom and he — or was it a she? — lifted himself onto his front flippers, arching his back and pushing his chest out; it seemed totally nonaggressive, just a friendly salutation.

With my lungs burning, I headed for the surface, wondering if my friend might be a little nonplussed with my lack of diving ability and stamina. But he — or she — wasn't put off and joined me on the surface, cavorting all around me; we were soon joined by another playmate.

Further away, just out of visibility underwater but within eyesight on the surface were the older females. And a little more aloof and proud in their behavior — watchdogs of the harem and children that played around us — were the big males.

These were Australian sea lions, which most people call seals — that's what they look like. They're a tolerant, playful lot, and near Baird Bay on the west coast of South Australia, in the shallow protected waters off a small low island they call home, they are at their friendly, most appealing best.

Trip Facts
Difficulty rating: Easy
When to go: October - May