It is the summer solstice - the longest day of the year and the day attributed with varying forms of mysticism for some - and I am part of a camera crew working on a documentary about the lost continent of Atlantis. Our quest has led us up a mangrove-lined creek on the island of North Bimini to find the Healing Hole, a bubbling spring said to possess mystical powers. At the spring, we join a circle of people standing in the chest-deep water, holding hands while a psychic healer chants incantations to the gods of Atlantis. I have trouble stifling a grin when she unveils a large crystal and passes it around the group. But when it is my turn to grasp the talisman, I an suddenly overcome with a chilling, electric sensation. Things get even stranger as we are joined by others, who say they were drawn to this piece of mangrove swamp by otherworldly voices. These newcomers share personal stories of past lives and experiences in Atlantis, and proclaim that a token of significant power will soon be revealed. I feel the hairs on the back of my neck rise when I hear this. As strange as it may seem, just the day before, Bill Keefe of Bimini Undersea found an unusual square granite stone with cryptic carvings on the famed Bimini Road. Later that evening, a psychic tells us a strange tale. She explains that through reincarnation, the former Atlantians transformed themselves into dolphins, thereby forever continuing the existence of their culture. She concludes by adding, We'll be visited soon by a group of ambassadors from Atlantis.INTO THE TRIANGLE The following morning, we load our gear, and begin the cruise north toward the Bimini Road. Part of the Bermuda Triangle, Bimini is said to be the site of Ponce de Leon's Fountain of Youth, and has long been known as a mystical island where strange things happened. Captain Cousteau came to film and investigate the Bimini Road after its discovery in 1968, and in the years since, countless film documentaries and research projects have examined and attempted to explain the unusual underwater formations that appear to be the paving blocks of a giant undersea highway. Other bizarre features on Bimini lend credence to stories of a lost culture. Visible only from the air are four earth mounds shaped like a square, a cat, a shark and a sea horse. Was this some type of guidance beacon for extraterrestrials? Regardless, we were about to embark on a most wondrous trip. Less than an hour after leaving the dock, we make our first contact; a single female dolphin escorting her small baby. We follow her in hopes that she will lead us to the main pod but are soon disappointed. Nowdla Keefe, intently serious as she scans the waters from the bow of the boat, remains confident that our ambassadors will show. For more than a year, she has guided groups to the keepers of the road. Her vigilance and patience are rewarded a few minutes later, and the lookout's cry of there they are! sends the entire boat into a frenzy. I can see the dolphins now; maybe a dozen, flashing in the sun as they broach and jump our wake. These were Atlantic spotted dolphins, stenella plagiodon, an oceanic species that rarely comes near shore. As we hastily don masks and fins, we call to the dolphins as if they were our children. Marine naturalists have a derisive word for people who endow animals with human characteristics, but I find that such lofty scientific detachment fades quickly when you come face to face with a wild dolphin.A VISIT TO ATLANTIS The huge pod of spotted dolphins seems as excited to see us as we are to see them. I move slowly, finning lightly in the shallow water, watching, waiting for any sign of acceptance. I use a dolphin-like kick to roll over and away from the pod, as if daring them to follow. My spotted companions seemed to find this most amusing, and a group of six fins past me in formation, dipping, somersaulting and swirling - as if to show me how it should be done. While clearly excited by our presence, the dolphins set ground rules. If I reach out to touch, I am banished. If I swim with the group, trying hard to simulate their grace and style, I am relentlessly pursued; matched stroke for stroke by up to a dozen dolphins swimming nose to nose. There is a constant high-pitched chatter undulating through the water that sounds like laughter. Some researchers believe the sounds carry a three-dimensional sonar image of an object the dolphin sees or wishes to communicate with. I know this, but that doesn't stop me from imagining that perhaps these dolphins really are reincarnated Atlantians, trying to make contact with their land-bound progeny. As clever and agile as they seem, they also possess a sense of fragility. With only a tablespoon of seawater in its lungs, an adult dolphin will drown. Their skin is very sensitive, and their blood lacks the ability to clot rapidly. They spend their lives avoiding physical contact except for feeding or mating. Knowing this, I am caught completely off guard by a large female who swims extremely close to me. I reach out, extending my hand as she fixed her eye on me. I touch her. The skin is soft and very smooth. Perhaps I only imagine it, but my touch seems to invoke a slight quiver of enjoyment, while her eyes, only a short distance away, penetrate, probing for ancient unanswered questions. If you were to ask me now if I believe in Atlantis, I would have to say yes, because I realize I've been there.