On the horizon, the sea glows golden as a group of dolphins effortlessly cuts through the bow waves of a ship. For a moment, it seems as if they are dancing, not for the people on board, but out of pure joy of life. And this joy transfers to us when we watch them: a smile spreads across every face, accompanied by the quiet hope that being close to these animals might even have the power to heal.
This question has accompanied Ronald Vala for many years. He vividly remembers the evening when it all began: a birthday party, lots of laughter, a glass of wine, and suddenly the idea of making the fascination of dolphins tangible for people without keeping a single animal in captivity. What at first sounded like a joke gradually developed into a serious vision.
But how could that ever be achieved? The answer came from an entirely different world: firewalking. In this ritual, people walk barefoot across glowing embers without getting burned. The secret lies not in magic but in the way the brain links different sensory impressions. Ronnie witnessed how a trainer demonstrated this effect. In front of everyone, the trainer held up a large brush, ran it visibly across his own arm, and at the same time touched the back of a volunteer with his bare hand. The audience knew what was happening but the volunteer was convinced he had felt the brush. His brain had combined what he saw with the sensation on his skin and created a reality that was objectively false, yet subjectively entirely true.
This was exactly the point where Ronnie and his friend Günther picked up. If the eyes see dolphins, the ears hear their songs, and the skin feels the water, then the brain believes one is truly among these animals. No concrete tanks, no captivity, no suffering: just an artificially created, yet genuinely experienced encounter. A positive illusion, not to manipulate, but to enable healing experiences.
For the reality in many therapy and entertainment facilities is grim. There, dolphins are often sedated with tranquilizers such as Valium to suppress stress or aggression. In cramped pools, waste accumulates, disinfecting chemicals irritate skin and mucous membranes, and children who swallow water while swimming frequently become ill with infections. Such practices stand in stark contrast to respect and clearly show why alternatives are urgently needed.
And so the idea was born: to combine sensory impressions in such a way that the brain constructs a believable story. With projections on the walls, underwater loudspeakers, and movement in the water, Ronnie and Günther developed their project “Liquid Dolphins.” Participants immerse themselves in a world that feels like an encounter with real dolphins without any animals at all!
How powerful such an experience can be was shown by a boy with cerebral palsy. During a short contact phase with the sound of dolphins and the feeling of the water around him, he suddenly broke into a wide grin and laughed for the first time in his life. For his mother, this moment was a turning point, a spark that changed her world. Ronnie himself was moved to tears as he recalled it.
“Liquid Dolphins” demonstrates that images, sounds, and water can evoke real emotions: joy, relaxation, sometimes even liberating laughter.
Yet such transformations are not limited to virtual dolphins. Ronnie also witnessed them while diving with people with disabilities. Underwater, weightless and carried by the rhythm of breathing, limitations seemed to disappear. A young woman with spina bifida, reminded daily of her boundaries on land, moved freely and as an equal alongside others while diving. For her, it felt as if the disability had fallen away, a space where she was not “different” but simply part of a community.
In this way, water itself becomes the therapist. It offers people experiences of freedom and lightness, of closeness and belonging: without any animal suffering. And perhaps this is the true lesson that dolphins have to teach us: that healing does not come from keeping them captive, but from using their power as a symbol and recognizing the ocean itself as our real therapist.
An Article with Ronald Vala by Carina Zettel