Orca in Open Water

by Emma Carlson Berne

  “So if we’re going to feed him, why are we all the way up here?” I asked.

  “We have to send the fish down this pipe, because we don’t want him to start associating the fish with humans,” Arden explained. “Remember, we want him to stay wild and stay away from boats most of all. Go ahead, Cooper.”

  Cooper stepped forward and shot the big salmon down the pipe. Olivia and I craned our necks and saw a tiny splash far below. August swam over and dived for the fish.

  “He’s got it!” Olivia said. “He ate it!”

  Arden grinned. “That’s a good sign, because these are live fish. August needs to hunt, not just snack on dead fish that don’t move. If he was staying forever here, dead fish are fine. But he’s not. He’s leaving.”

  I grinned. Arden was right. If we had anything to say about it, August would soon be back in the wild—where he belonged.

  Chapter 6

  Over the next week, Cooper, Olivia, and I slid so many salmon down August’s chute that my fingers felt permanently coated with fish slime. Not that I minded. August was getting better every day. He was diving and breaching more frequently, which Mom said was a sign he was getting his energy back.

  We still couldn’t get too close to him, though. Arden said he needed as little contact with people as possible, but she looked at him every day through her high-powered binoculars.

  “He’s gaining weight,” she said on Tuesday morning, peering down at him from our ledge. “You can see from the bigger splashes he’s making. His head is losing that peanut shape.”

  She handed me the binoculars, and I put the strap around my neck. We were standing fifty feet up after all, and I didn’t think Arden would appreciate her fancy binoculars taking a bath in the Pacific.

  Once they were secure, I focused the lens and spotted August swimming around the netted section of the pen, nosing at the webbing.

  “He’s exploring!” I said happily. I handed the binoculars to Olivia so she could see too.

  “That’s a good sign, right, Mom?” Cooper asked.

  “Definitely,” Arden agreed. “He’s a lot more active now. He has energy to explore, whereas before he didn’t. I think we’ll be looking at a release in another week or so, as soon as we get the OK from the vet. He needs to gain just a little more weight. He should be about six hundred pounds, so he has about twenty pounds to go.”

  I grinned. If August was going to be released that soon, maybe we’d get to see it before we had to head back to Charleston. It would be a dream come true to see him reunited with his pod.

  After a few more minutes we headed back up the path. Halfway up, we almost collided with Mom, who was hurrying from the office with a piece of paper in her hand.

  “Kids! Is Arden with you—oh, there you are!” She saw Arden behind us. “I just opened this letter. It looks serious.”

  Arden scanned the letter. Then she exhaled. “We’ll fight it. They won’t get him.” She folded the paper, but I could tell she really wanted to tear it into bits. My joy at watching August eat evaporated, replaced by worry.

  “Get what?” Olivia asked. At the same time, Cooper said, “Get who?”

  Arden handed him the letter. “Here. You kids might as well know what we’re up against.”

  Cooper unfolded the paper, and Olivia and I both leaned over his shoulder to read.

  To: Dr. Arden Harrington

  San Juan Marine Mammal Sanctuary

  484 Pacific Highway No. 25

  Dear Dr. Harrington:

  This letter is in regard to the care and housing of orca J50 from pod J34, also known as “August.” It has come to our attention that the San Juan Marine Mammal Sanctuary intends to release the young orca back into the wild. It is Oceanarium’s belief that the orca will receive better care and a safer life in our premier, world-class facility. The animal will have the opportunity to receive top-grade veterinary monitoring, nutrition, and exercise in a natural setting.

  To this end, we have contacted NOAA to request the release of J-50 to our care, effective immediately. NOAA has asked for a meeting, at which time the organization will make its decision. Details, we assume, will be forthcoming.

  Yours sincerely,

  Davis Hammond

  Oceanarium Chief Orca Trainer

  I couldn’t believe what I was reading. Silently Mom handed Arden a second opened envelope. We read over her shoulder:

  To: Dr. Arden Harrington

  San Juan Marine Mammal Sanctuary

  484 Pacific Highway No. 25

  Dear Dr. Harrington:

  Your presence is required at the offices of NOAA on Wednesday, July 14, to discuss the care and potential release of orca J-50. Officials representing the marine facility Oceanarium will also be present to state their case.

  Thank you for your cooperation in this matter.

  Sincerely,

  Chip Sheffield

  NOAA Pacific Northwest Executive Officer

  Cooper looked up. His eyes were wide. “Oceanarium is trying to take August? How can they do that? I thought this was all decided already.”

  I was surprised to hear a tremble in Cooper’s voice. I’d thought so too.

  Arden nodded. She put her arm around his shoulder. “I’m afraid so. We’ll have to make the best argument we can that he belongs in the wild.”

  “Maybe Oceanarium wouldn’t be so bad,” Olivia said quietly. She pointed at the part about a natural setting and all the top-grade food and care. “It seems like they’d take good care of him.”

  “No!” Cooper’s shout startled all of us. “He can’t go there! You don’t know what those places are like!” He breathed heavily for a minute. “Sorry. It’s just that you guys don’t know how Oceanarium treats orcas.”

  Mom patted my shoulder. “Arden and I have to answer this letter. We’ll catch up with you later.”

  With that, they hurried up the path toward the office. I turned to Cooper. “OK, spill. Is Oceanarium really that awful? I’ve heard of it, but I’ve never actually been.”

  Cooper sank down on a rock. “Listen, Oceanarium has kept orcas in captivity for a long time. But that’s not even the worst part. They force them to perform in shows. The whales have to do things that are totally unnatural for them, just to please the trainers. If they don’t, they don’t get fed. And they don’t get to live in their natural family groups. They just live with random other orcas, so they fight and get hurt. It’s not a good place.”

  Olivia and I exchanged a glance. That sounded awful. I didn’t want to think of August ending up someplace like that. There was only one thing we could do.

  Olivia took a deep breath. “I think we should see it for ourselves.”

  Chapter 7

  “Are we sure this is a good idea?” I asked the next day. We stood in the bright sunshine, staring up at a wide blue-painted arch that read Oceanarium.

  “I think it is,” Olivia replied. She pulled me toward the entrance, making our way through crowds of families and vacationers outfitted in shorts and ball caps.

  “It definitely is,” Cooper said on my other side. “I want you guys to see this in person.”

  We made our way past tanks of turtles and fish, an outdoor habitat for seals and one for otters, and a large dolphin pool. Cooper led us up onto concrete bleachers that surrounded a huge pool on three sides. A large digital sign above the pool read: Orca Show featuring Kaya and her trainer, Samantha!

  It was strange to realize we’d be seeing an orca soon. I felt more like I was at a public swimming pool. The water in the pool was so blue, and the concrete was hot under my shorts. The bleachers around us were filled with kids grasping melting ice-creams and couples aiming their phones at the pool.

  Suddenly music filled the air, and a voice on a loudspeaker boomed, “Oceanarium patrons, we
lcome to the Orca Show! Please welcome Kaya and her trainer, Samantha!”

  Gates I hadn’t noticed before opened at one end of the pool, and with a giant splash, an orca swam into the pool with a trainer in a wet suit riding on her back. The trainer was almost surfing above the water, smiling and waving, as the orca swam rapidly around the perimeter of the pool. The crowd around us cheered as music played.

  “The beautiful Kaya!” the announcer’s voice boomed. The orca suddenly dove, flinging her tail up, and the trainer did a somersault and landed beautifully in the water.

  As we watched, the trainer swam to the edge of the pool and jumped out. She tweeted a whistle, and Kaya swam over to a large white platform that extended out from the side of the pool, just below the surface of the water.

  The trainer knelt beside the orca and gave some kind of hand signal. In response, the whale blew a plume of water out of her blowhole, soaking the first two rows of people, all of whom shrieked with delight. Another signal followed, and the orca flopped off the platform and back into the water.

  My stomach felt sick as I watched the show. I looked over at Olivia and Cooper. They both had the same expression on their faces, like they were being forced to hold something sour in their mouths.

  “Oh, oh, oh,” Olivia was muttering. Her hands were clenched in her lap.

  “I’ve seen enough,” I told the other two.

  My friends nodded, and we edged past people out to the aisle. Everyone else seemed enthralled, but I couldn’t watch another minute. We made our way down the steps and away from the pool.

  “Sick!” I exploded as soon as we were away. “That’s sickening!”

  “They’re treating that orca like a trained dog,” Olivia agreed. “No ocean water, no hunting, no pod, just a whistle and …”

  She trailed off, pressing her hands over her mouth. I could see tears coursing down her cheeks.

  “I told you,” Cooper said. He gestured toward the dolphin pool we’d stopped by. “It’s the same for these bottlenose dolphins. This is a totally unnatural place for an orca. Orcas are super smart. They have a whole culture within their pods. They have their own language. They’re meant to stay together for their entire lives.”

  I sank down onto a bench and rested my arms on my knees. I stared at the concrete beneath my feet, where a group of ants were attacking a chewed-up wad of gum. “I didn’t realize it was this bad.”

  “It gets even worse.” Cooper was pacing now, as if he were too upset to stand still. Then he edged toward us and lowered his voice. “Orcas at Oceanarium attack each other and fight, which they never do in the wild. Some orcas have even killed others because they’re just tossed in a tank together. They’ve even attacked their trainers and hurt them.”

  Olivia inhaled. “That’s awful!”

  “It’s like prison. Imagine being thrust into a cell with a total stranger. That’s what it’s like,” Cooper went on relentlessly. “Orcas never attack humans in the wild. It’s a sign of how stressed they are in places like these.”

  I couldn’t bear to think of August winding up at Oceanarium. They couldn’t get him. They just couldn’t. He was only a baby. He deserved to be with his pod, hunting seals and swimming hundreds of miles through cold ocean waters.

  “We have to make sure my mom and yours are prepared to make the case to NOAA,” I said, standing up from the bench. “We have to keep August out of here.”

  A man walking by gave us a strange look. He was wearing a wet suit, just like the trainer from the Orca Show, and his hair was wet. His face was familiar, but I couldn’t quite place him.

  Suddenly the man stopped, and at the same time, I realized who it was: Davis Hammond, the head trainer who’d been lobbying to get August. He was the one who’d sent the letter to SJS. I hadn’t recognized him out of normal clothes and with his hair slicked back.

  “Hey, kids,” Davis said, offering us a big smile. “Checking out the show? It’s nice to see you on Oceanarium’s grounds. I hope you saw Kaya and Samantha back there. Pretty impressive, isn’t it?”

  I took a deep breath and glanced over at Olivia and Cooper. They both gave me looks that said, Do it!

  “Actually we’re pretty worried at even the possibility of August coming to live here.” I hesitated. I’d never said anything like this to an adult before. “We think he’d have a happier life in the wild, with his pod. You have to admit, that’s where he should be, right?”

  The smile disappeared from Davis’ face as if it had been sucked off. “As a matter of fact, I don’t agree,” he snapped. “You kids are beyond naïve to think that the orca could be reintroduced into his pod. And so is the rest of the SJS staff. You do know that it’s never been done before, right? No orca has ever been successfully returned to the wild after being rehabilitated by humans. Your orca will starve to death in the ocean, alone. That’s a long, slow death. Is that what you want for him? Is it?”

  My face was flaming, and my throat was aching as I faced down his anger. I tried to swallow past the lump in my throat. Thankfully I felt Cooper and Olivia crowding behind me. They gave me the courage to say, “It’s not what I want, but I don’t think that’s what will happen.”

  Without waiting for a response, I turned and walked blindly toward the exit, with Cooper and Olivia hurrying behind me. We had seen more than enough. Now we had work to do.

  Chapter 8

  I felt dizzy when I walked into the conference room at NOAA behind Arden. Cooper and Olivia trailed after me. We’d finally gotten Arden to agree to take us with her to the hearing by alternating begging and promising to stay silent. Finally she and Mom said we could go if we stayed out of the way and said exactly nothing. Mom had volunteered to stay back with August, but we were supposed to call her the minute it was over.

  Two officials sat at the long table when we came in, along with Davis Hammond. Dislike rose in my throat as soon as I saw him. Beside me, Olivia narrowed her eyes and shot him a dirty look.

  “Thank you for joining us,” one of the NOAA officials said, standing. “I’m Dr. Chip Sheffield, the NOAA Pacific Northwest Executive Officer, and this is Dr. Lisa Grayhouse, our officer in charge of mammal stranding.” Dr. Grayhouse nodded at us. “And I believe you know Davis Hammond from—”

  “We know him,” Arden said shortly.

  Dr. Sheffield blinked, clearly taken aback. “All right then, let’s get started,” he said.

  The grown-ups sat down around the table. Cooper grabbed a seat next to his mom while Olivia and I hustled to the chairs against the wall and kept our mouths shut, as promised.

  “We’ve reviewed the facts of the case, but we’d like to hear from each of you concerning the best situation for the orca named August. Mr. Hammond, would you like to begin?” Dr. Sheffield said.

  Davis leaned forward. “Thank you, Dr. Sheffield. I’d like to begin by pointing out that what SJS is proposing has literally never been done before. Orcas released into the wild after contact with humans never integrate back into a pod. They return to humans for food and companionship all their life.”

  Davis paused and looked over at us, sitting against the wall. I heard Cooper growl a little, low in his throat, like a dog.

  “Oceanarium will ensure August lives a long, healthy life,” he continued. “A safe life. He’ll be protected from disease, starvation, and injuries from boats. He’ll get all the best veterinary care, including ultrasounds and blood work. And he’ll have plenty of stimulation.”

  With that, Davis leaned back and folded his hands on the table. I could tell he thought he’d made a pretty good argument.

  Dr. Sheffield and Dr. Grayhouse were frowning and nodding. My heart clenched. Did they agree with him already? Arden hadn’t even spoken yet.

  “Mr. Hammond is right,” Arden said.

  What? Cooper, Olivia, and I stared at each other. Had Arden lost her mind?

&n
bsp; “An orca has never been successfully introduced into a pod,” she went on. “But we’re suggesting something different. We want to reintroduce August to his own pod—to return him to his family. Mr. Hammond has made a good argument for August’s bodily safety at Oceanarium. But he’s leaving out crucial information. Orcas have a sophisticated culture and family system. They have their own dialect. They hunt, mate, and live together their whole lives. To keep August at Oceanarium would be like keeping him alive in a cell. Yes, he would be alive, but what kind of life would that be?” Arden spread her hands. “We’re asking for a chance. We know it is a slim chance. But we want August to have a chance for a normal life, all the same.”

  I exhaled. On one side of me, Olivia crossed all her fingers. I looked down at her sandals. She had her toes crossed too.

  Dr. Sheffield and Dr. Grayhouse scooted closer together and murmured to each other. I wondered if they could hear my heart pounding in my chest. I glanced at Cooper. His face was twisted in an anxious grimace.

  The two officials’ little conversation felt like it was taking a billion years. Finally Dr. Sheffield nodded, and they both leaned back.

  “Thank you both,” said Dr. Sheffield. “You both made convincing arguments, but we’re satisfied that the evidence presented supports SJS attempting reintroduction. Dr. Harrington, please draw on NOAA for any continued resources you and SJS may need.”

  With that, Dr. Sheffield pushed back his chair and stood up. Davis made a face like he’d taken a drink of rotten milk. He stood up too and nodded at us, then quietly exited the room.

  That was it. I couldn’t believe it! I shot up from my chair like I’d been catapulted out of it and threw myself on Arden for a hug. Olivia and Cooper piled on from behind. I didn’t care how dumb we looked. I was just glad.

  Chapter 9