I think this is a lovely midsummer story from the Clare coast about a love affair of the mermaid kind between an older man and a younger and very beautiful partner called Dusty.

I saw Dusty last Sunday at the White Strand near the sleepy spire of Miltownmalbay and I instantly fell in love with her myself so I did, and accordingly I fully understand the great affection that Jan Ploeg has developed for her.

You too will be able to see her after you finish reading this and I guarantee that you, wherever you are, will be instantly smitten too. Be warned in advance!

Golden beaches and surfy seas on a brilliant midsummer Sunday are always fitting and sometimes flattering backdrops for displays of female beauty. We all know that.

But I am older and wiser now than when I was 16 and every bikini seared across my eyeballs in a fashion which banished any kind of judgment at all.

And it is with this wisdom I can say that Dusty was by far the most beautiful of the swimmers and divers cavorting in the sun warmed waters of the White Strand last Sunday afternoon.

She has an absolutely perfect figure. Her skin is without a single flaw, and it gleamed in the sun as she moved gracefully in and around and among the other swimmers.

She flirted and dillied and dallied, especially with the men, touching their arms and shoulders but only gently and briefly. She played with joy with the children and the women, clearly more gentle with the children than with the others, like a young aunt. I never saw her without a smile on her lovely face the whole time.

And her eyes, above any other feature, are extra special. There is something spiritual and wholesome about them, even at a little distance, which is quite awesomely striking.

Little wonder that Jan Ploeg is in the state he is in. He was not there on Sunday but, because of the special bond he has with her, that was the good fortune of the others because had he been there the two of them would have headed away from the throng together, probably to the quiet caves of Freagh down the coast. 

Dusty is a young female dolphin who has replaced the legendary Fungie of Dingle as one of the greatest wildlife attractions along the west coast. Jan Ploeg of Holland, a photographer and artist, and noted whale and dolphin expert, has become her special friend of many along this stretch of the Clare coast in the last couple of years.

I was not speaking with Jan myself yet but the Dutch Nation was after she visited his current exhibition in the Artist’s Art Gallery in Parliament Street, Ennistymon.

She came back to me with her eyes all lit up and two beautifully expressive shots of Dusty and the whole story. "Do you want to go in and talk to Jan?" is what she said.

"No. I want to go over to the White Strand and see Dusty." 

And she was there, playing with a large group of her followers and friends, when we arrived 30 minutes later. All of them were close to the shore, very close, and a lot of the fun was being created by Dusty catching the water-toy formed by two empty water bottles tied together and thrown in her direction.

Sometimes she would be seen a quarter-mile away out in the bay, but within seconds would be back again in the midst of them, cavorting, playing, occasionally leaping almost totally out of the sea.

I've seen Fungie in action but I've never seen such mutually enjoyable interaction as this. It was a very enthralling and moving sight.

I've heard that special children, many of them autistic, benefit hugely from swimming with dolphins. I can now easily believe that. All of the swimmers of all ages seemed uplifted by what was happening.

Meanwhile, the Dutch Nation filled me in on Jan's relationship with Dusty. When he goes into the sea he does not call to her. He knows she already knows he is there.

A powerful swimmer, he does not wear the noisy fins the others wear. He dons monofin into which both feet easily and naturally fit.

He swims out to sea.

After a while he "feels" she is there, behind him, and she always is. She always comes up silently from behind.

They play together, and she does not like it so much if he has his camera with him. Dolphins have a very high intelligence.

Could it be she is aware that he is turning something private into something public? But because he does that we have some amazing images of Dusty.

He shoots videos too, and there are sequences of them both rising to the surface, bubbles of breathing around them, the monofin converting him into a merman! Incredible. 

More incredible still. Remember the myth of Finn McCool and the Salmon of Knowledge? Occasionally, as a gesture of affection, Dusty will catch a salmon and present it to him there in the sea!

And yet more incredible than that is the way she somehow knows that the slippery salmon will wriggle out of his hand and escape, unless she makes certain hunting sounds which paralyze the fish in his hand until he reaches the shore. She gives these gifts to some other local women who swim regularly with her as well.

The salmon, Jan told Annet, tastes as if it came down from some mysterious paradise. And in a real way surely it does indeed.

Some cynics out there will claim that once again Cormac is gilding the lily. I never really have to because this west of mine produces yarns like this.

But just for once I can offer clear and conclusive proof of about every word.

Jan Ploeg, who lives in a caravan as close to the beach as possible, has both a website and an information line. The website is www.janploeg.nl,and the information contact is [email protected].

Away you go...