Saturday, December 15, 2018

Learning to love killer whales

kw: book reviews, nonfiction, natural history, orcas, killer whales, sociology

Prior to about 1965, the public perception of killer whales was of a rapacious beast, "the ocean's greatest predator", more to be feared than the great white shark. By about 1970, a few ambitious, large, ocean-focused aquariums, "oceanariums", had obtained juvenile killer whales, and soon SeaWorld began the famous "Shamu Adventure" shows that made killer whales into crowd favorites.

So far as I know, the first whales put on display in an oceanarium were two pilot whales at Marineland of the Pacific, beginning in 1962. Later they also obtained killer whales. I used to visit Marineland after moving to California in 1967, and I remember the pilot whales, but killer whales came later. I was more interested in the giant pacific octopus on display, an amazing animal. I have seen a killer whale show only once, at San Diego, some 20 years ago.

It was also about 1970 that the term "orca" was pushed into popularity by some that thought "killer whale" was too scary a moniker. I wonder if they understood that orca is one of the Latin words for "demon"? Linnaeus first classified the species as Delphinus orca, or "demon dolphin." Later the genus was changed to Orcinus, so now the scientific name means "demon from hell"! It is no coincidence that classicist J.R.R. Tolkien used the term "orc" for the demonic forces of Sauron in The Lord of the Rings.

After killer whales/orcas went on display, and millions got to see them in action, public perception changed, in just a decade, from fearing and hating them to loving them. In the process, the men who started the process, by capturing young whales and putting them on display, and whose work led to public love for killer whales, and then by extension, to all whales, became public pariahs. The original spearhead of killer whale capture, Ken Griffin, became the most hated, when we actually owe him a great debt of gratitude. Without his work and his obsession, would we still hate orcas?

Jason M. Colby is just the right author to produce a book about the decade during which this shift of opinion occurred, and its aftermath. His father, John Colby, was a whale-catcher during the early days of capturing young killer whales for display and scientific study. He has written Orca: How We Came to Know and Love the Ocean's Greatest Predator. Although I used the tag "natural history" above, this book records mainly unnatural history for orcas.

Prior to the work of John Colby, Ken Griffin and their colleagues (and competitors), the killer whale, AKA grampus or blackfish, was considered a global species that feasted on baleen whales, while also devouring huge numbers of Chinook salmon, fur seals, and shoals of herring. Fishermen hated them as competitors and potential human predators and usually shot them on sight. Since the 1970's we have gained a truer picture of killer whale life and society.

Killer whales are big enough to take on great white sharks, were they so inclined. Great whites grow to about 20 feet (maximum verified, 22 ft), and can weigh 2-2.5 tons. A 22-foot killer whale is just getting into adulthood; they grow to 26 feet (maximum 32 ft), and can weigh 6-9 tons. One population of killer whales eats primarily blue sharks, which are half the length and 1/10 the weight of great white sharks.

Killer whales are very social, living in stable family groups and multi-family clans. A clan, also called a Pod, has a home range and a food preference. In particular, in the Pacific Northwest, one Pod eats only salmon, another eats primarily seals, and another eats other fish including sharks. They inhabit a sonic world. They use echolocation to find prey and a large range of whistles, squeals and other sounds to communicate. The typical sounds made by one Pod differ from those of a different Pod. They have dialects! Where ranges overlap, it seems that many of the whales are bilingual, able to communicate with members of a different Pod.

Reading Orca, and its sad chronicle of whale capture and killing, I began to think of a whale capture expedition in more personal terms. What if humans were to be taken for display in alien zoos and study by alien scientists? Of course, the "alien abduction" fears of many folks reflect this. So just consider:
A gregarious extended family is on an outing, when some kind of net surrounds them. They are held for a time while smaller beings move about nearby and study them. More nets are deployed, which segregate certain individuals, primarily those that weigh between 60 and 120 pounds, ages 8-14. These are taken away, not to be seen again. The larger and smaller ones are released.
That is how alien abduction would actually occur, no midnight force beams, etc. That is what happened to numerous families of killer whales during the heyday of "whale shows" at oceanariums. However, in a typical capture event, some whales died (not always; Ken Griffin very rarely had a whale die during capture). The nets could tangle a young one, holding it underwater until it drowned, for example. Sadly, few whales in captivity lived more than a few months or a year. It took time for the captors to learn to take care of them.

Ignorance is deadly. Most of the whales captured were used to eating salmon or seals. They spurned the buckets of herring they were offered. Death by starvation was frequent until curators learned better, and also learned techniques to induce newly-caught whales to eat herring, the only food they could afford to obtain in massive quantities…also, it's hard to feed seals to captive whales, and if the public were to see the whales eating "cute" fur seals, the popularity of the shows would plummet.

It is still possible to see performing killer whales. But one by one, the shows are ending. The whales in captivity cannot be returned to the wild. Most now living were born in captivity and do now know the dialect of any wild whale Pods. One or two of the currently captive population are pregnant, meaning that SeaWorld and others will have to take care of killer whales for the next 50 years.

Enough of my ramblings. Jason Colby tells, and tells well, the story of orcas and their shift from mythological demon to beloved "sea Panda". Neither perception is accurate. But along the way, the scientific study of orcas and orca Pods became necessary, and much more is known about these amazing animals. I hope further good and popular books are written about their natural history.

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