by David Kirby
Another viewer named Dan said he visited SeaWorld as a child and recalled the “magical atmosphere of the place.” Then he returned as an adult. “I was sickened and sad. Anybody who cannot see the cruelty inflicted on these creatures hardly deserves to be called human. As badly as I feel for the trainer, I feel even more sorry for the whale.”
The following morning Jeff appeared on the CBS Early Show, repeating his opposition to freeing Tilikum: “There’s no better place for Tilikum than SeaWorld. He gets the best care possible for his particular situation.” Why oppose his release? Because Tilikum spent most of his time resting at the surface and could not handle the rigors of being a wild orca, one that “swims pretty much its entire life,” as Jeff put it. Tilikum’s lack of viable teeth was another reason he was unsuited for the ocean.
A few days later, John Jett submitted an essay about Dawn and Tilikum to the AC-360 blog, which published it. John wrote that the incident “should cause us as a society to ponder the wisdom of keeping large carnivores such as killer whales in captive environments.” While working at SeaWorld, he said, his job had made him “emotionally impossible to participate.” Now he counted himself among the “growing contingent who considers killer whale captivity grossly unjust.”
John agreed with his friend Jeff on the question of freedom for Tilikum, for much the same reasons. But that didn’t mean that captivity was justified, even though parks such as SeaWorld relied on their “loudly proclaimed statement” that seeing captive killer whales “somehow makes us better global citizens: greener, wiser, and more likely to support conservation efforts.”
As for the industry’s scientific contributions, John noted a paucity of “peer-reviewed articles published as a result of captive killer whale observation, especially within the past 20 years.” And there was zero science to show that captivity was beneficial to killer whales or to human society. “The burden of proof is, or should be, on zoological parks where animals like killer whales are held. Show us the proof that making killer whales do tricks somehow leads to pro-environmental attitudes and behaviors among visitors.”
Jeff and John knew that their public pronouncements would strike a nerve among pro-captivity types, but never imagined the most strident reactions would come from their old friend Mark Simmons.
“Jeff—Call me,” Mark wrote in an e-mail. “I don’t know why or what in the world is going on—I saw your interview and John’s article on CNN—I’d like to know what the hell? If I’ve ever been a friend to either one of you—and if you know how to reach John—you’ll call me or tell him to call me.”
Jeff wrote back right away: “Mark—I didn’t realize our friendship had ended. I miss you brother. My position on Tilikum has been stated. He can’t be released secondary to dental issues. In regard to JJ [John Jett], I read his article and thought it was well written; have forwarded to family and friends. I encourage you to do the same. He writes beautifully.”
Jeff told Mark to contact John at Stetson, and Jeff mentioned that he was coming “home” to central Florida that May. “If you’d like to speak, let’s get together then, have a beer, after this has blown over. It would be great to see you and John again.”
Mark quickly wrote back: “I’m not saying our friendship has ended Jeff—I’m not that shallow. I don’t agree with John or an anti-captivity stance … but he or you are entitled to your opinion just as I am.” Mark conceded that SeaWorld was not a “flawless institution.” On the other hand, the anti-captivity side was “downright criminal. I can tell you things that would shock you about Keiko, about the economics of anti-captivity,” which he witnessed while working for HSUS, Earth Island, and Ocean Futures.
Medical records and film footage from the Keiko project had been “doctored” to benefit HSUS and the others, Mark alleged. “I have in my possession every e-mail, every record on Keiko and photos, etc. that can back up everything I would tell you.” Mark also blasted John Jett for having “jumped on this media bandwagon at Dawn’s expense.” If John had really felt so strongly about animal welfare and trainer safety, “he wouldn’t have waited for such a sensational time to promote it.”
Mark then wrote to John directly: “I read your article. I can’t disagree more.” Mark had sent a response to the AC-360 blog, but it had gone unpublished. “It is abundantly clear that the editorial staff are openly anti-captivity, anti-zoological.”
Mark assailed John for his timing. “Dawn believed passionately in the mission of parks like SeaWorld and was one of the most outspoken proponents of animal conservation.… Where have you been on this issue for the past 15 years? Speaking out now, claiming embellished killer whale credentials in the process and complimenting Dawn in the process is poor form.” Jeff had been “no less guilty of grandstanding” in his own statements.
Mark finished by assuring John that he was, and always would be, a friend. “I wish we had talked, if for no other reason to avoid the same old tired arguments propelled by the fanatical groups for the last 30 years.”
He attached his response to John’s CNN blog and asked for John’s help in convincing AC-360 to post it.
In the essay, Mark attacked John over the idea of freeing Tilikum, which was bizarre because John had written that the whale was a poor candidate for release. “You don’t have the first clue of how this would be done,” Mark wrote. “Let me answer that from firsthand experience: it cannot be done with a long term captive whale.” The Keiko project, he said, was “the most famous case of animal exploitation in history.” Those who led the campaign (including Naomi Rose, presumably) “should have been charged with animal cruelty.” It was an inhumane “experiment” that ended in Keiko’s “cruel and drawn-out death. The same fate should never befall Tilikum.”
Mark then embarked on the “ocean as scary place” argument: “I’ve seen wild dolphins with cancer and synthetic hormone toxicity from our waste water disposal.” He had witnessed dolphins wrapped in fishing filament that caused body parts to fall off from stunted blood flow. He’d seen “emaciated groups of animals” and wild orcas “with amputated or bent dorsal fins.” In contrast, John’s depiction of captivity, was “flawed by a limited view of this world.” SeaWorld was not a “prison” and trainers were not “wardens.” The animals, he added, “were given the best care in mental, physical, social and environmental stimulation.”
Not only that, but SeaWorld also managed to take care of “at least 100 endangered and threatened species the world over.” It had spent more than $25 million in “active hands-on conservation,” rescuing some seventeen thousand animals in its history.
On the flip side were “radical extremist groups” trying to capitalize on manufactured sympathy for whales such as Tilikum and Keiko. It was a coldly calculated “business strategy.” Activist groups raised more cash on the backs of captive dolphins and whales “than any other single animal issue,” he said, again without offering evidence. (HSUS, for one, did not typically mention marine mammals in its own fund-raising appeals, which were largely based on pets and farm animals.) “I am angry that you take this cheap and ignorant stance against SeaWorld and in effect, ALL quality U.S. permitted and fully accredited zoological institutions. You jump at the chance to be a critic, but fall short of offering anything material in Dawn’s honor.”
John read Mark’s e-mail and essay and shook his head. He was not in any way going to help Mark get this published, even if John could pull strings at CNN. John confided in Jeff that their old friend was starting to concern him. “I knew Mark was prone to wrong conclusions, but his diatribe was just over-the-top,” John said, adding that Mark was angry at him because “I shared my informed opinion with the world; my words hurt because they were so hard to answer.”
* * *
Was SeaWorld really an “important social institution,” as Mark Simmons insisted? Or was it little more than a company whose main function was profiting from “parks and entertainment,” as implied by its new corporate title under the Blackstone Grou
p? That question was up for debate, and the argument continues to this day. But one thing was certain: Without profits, SeaWorld would not exist; and without killer whale shows, those profits would be greatly diminished.
Clearly, the show had to go on. How and when it resumed was a delicate issue requiring a fleet of public relations and crisis-response specialists. Dawn’s death threw SeaWorld officials into a defensive crouch—unfamiliar territory for them. The company had already got off to a terrible start by permitting the falsehood that Dawn had fallen in the pool, until it was corrected not by staff, but customers. It was a colossal PR blunder: SeaWorld had lost some of its swagger. Naomi, as she watched events unfold in wake of the tragedy, had never seen a paradigm shift so rapidly in her life. “They’re scared,” she said to Chris. “Dawn really did change everything.”
A business analysis from the Associated Press framed the problem well: “SeaWorld’s online pitch for its Dine With Shamu show: ‘Be part of an up-close and unforgettable adventure!’ has taken on unintended and ominous meaning after the death of veteran trainer Dawn Brancheau. Now the company must reassure visitors the park and its sister locations are still places where they can enjoy a family friendly day.”
As part of its “reassurance” campaign, SeaWorld Parks & Entertainment president and chief operating officer Jim Atchison held a somber news conference in Orlando one day after the killing.The venue was probably ill-advised. Atchison spoke in front of the viewing window of the killer whale tank, with several “Shamus” mugging for the camera behind him.
It was the normal venue for many company press conferences, but some critics took Atchison to task for speaking there. The whales were too cute and distracting to be used as a visual backdrop for such a grave topic, some of them charged. Others said it was insensitive to include the sight of any killer whales during a press conference about a whale that had killed someone, especially a beloved employee. It didn’t help matters that Atchison’s podium sported a large sign saying SEAWORLD PARKS & ENTERTAINMENT. This was a moment for contrition, critics howled, not branding.
Atchison announced that all three SeaWorld parks had suspended their Shamu shows, but would resume them in two days. Trainers would stay out of the water indefinitely until an investigation was completed. In Orlando, Tilikum would return to the show for the splash segment soon, just not right away.
“He’s been a part of our team and he will remain a part of our team,” Atchison said of the giant bull. Pulling Tilikum from performances “would be a shame. This is really a wonderful animal, and his participation in our shows, his engagement in our interactions and so forth, is very important to his overall health and husbandry.”
Atchison bristled when reporters pressed him on the wisdom of keeping a killer in such proximity to human trainers, and whether SeaWorld was holding on to Tilikum merely for his value as a sperm producer. Tilikum was the only breeding male at SeaWorld; the other males were too young or, in the case of Ulises in San Diego, apparently unwilling to impregnate females.
“Tilikum is a valuable orca, having fathered 13 calves during an extended period when parks have abandoned efforts to obtain more of the animals from the wild,” the Orlando Sentinel reported. Nonetheless, Tilikum’s reproduction value had been “vastly overplayed within the media,” Atchison insisted. “If Tilikum never sired another calf, it wouldn’t make a difference to us.” The article was written by Jason Garcia, a beat reporter covering the region’s entertainment parks. He would follow the Tilikum drama for years to come.
When asked about the ethics and merits of keeping orcas in captivity, Atchison became “defiant,” according to the Sentinel. “We have created an extraordinary opportunity for people to get an up-close, personal experience; to be inspired and connect with marine life in a way that they cannot do anywhere else in the world,” Atchison said.“And for that, we make no apologies.”
SeaWorld officials had furnished investigators with a video of the attack captured by security cameras, though Atchison refused to provide details on what the images depicted. He also declined to discuss SeaWorld safety procedures for working with killer whales.
Meanwhile, the Alliance of Marine Mammal Parks and Aquariums, which counted SeaWorld as a founding member, had assembled a panel of industry leaders to help the company assess what had gone wrong, and how to prevent such an occurrence in the future. The experts hailed from several facilities, including the Georgia Aquarium, Miami Seaquarium, Marineland Ontario, and the US Navy Marine Mammal Program.3
But industry self-policing alone was not going to satisfy government officials, Naomi was relieved to learn. Several outside agencies were also investigating the death, including OCSO, OSHA, and the USDA’s Animal and Plant Health Inspection Service (APHIS), which administered the federal Animal Welfare Act.
As part of its public relations defense, SeaWorld enlisted the help of Thad Lacinak, who left the corporation in 2008 to form his own company, Precision Behavior, an animal-training consulting firm. Thad went before the cameras to defend his former employer, even if that meant blaming Dawn for her own demise. His words were strikingly similar to what Jack Hanna said on AC-360. “She was an excellent trainer, one of the best I’ve seen in my life,” Thad stated. “But allowing her ponytail to drift into the water like that in front of the animal turned out to be a fatal mistake.” Dawn had “laid completely down,” a vulnerable position to assume with Tilikum. Once Dawn’s ponytail had “apparently” drifted, “Tilikum just opened his mouth, sucked it in, and pulled her in the water.” Either the rules for handling Tilikum had changed or Dawn had violated them, Thad said. When he was at SeaWorld, all trainers were prohibited from lying down so close to the whale.
When Tilikum dragged Dawn into the water, the situation turned into a big game, Thad speculated. “It was more novelty.” Once other staff arrived at G Pool and unspooled the nets, Tilikum likely became even more aggressive in trying to maintain control over “his toy.”
As for calls to release Tilikum, that wasn’t going to happen. “Releasing any of these killer whales to the wild would be the wrong decision. We already tried it once, Free Willy. He died a terrible death.” Thad insisted that captivity was not only the best way to study killer whales, it was the only way. “These animals are invaluable in terms of what we can learn from them. And you cannot learn about killer whales through a pair of binoculars.”
Naomi scoffed at that statement. She had spent five summers observing wild killer whales, often with binoculars. Her work, and that of so many other field researchers around the world, had helped build the body of knowledge about the species, including its complex social behavior.
But according to Thad, the average person would hardly be interested in boring old cetacean science on its own: “We know for a fact that people do not learn in static conditions. They learn from these animals when they are entertained by them.”
What a fool, Naomi thought. Most people who love to learn about animals do so because they love the animals, not because they want entertainment. Such a self-serving statement, she thought, cheapened both the animals and the people who were interested in them.
In the aftermath of Dawn’s death, Thad and Chuck Tompkins emerged as two of the key public faces of SeaWorld. It was important, and only natural, to show sympathy to the victim and her grieving family and friends, but also critical to protect the family-friendly brand and reassure patrons that this incident was a unique outlier, a freak accident.
“What you need to remember is, we’ve done thousands of interactions with this animal with no incidents whatsoever,” Chuck told the Orlando Sentinel. Tilikum and Dawn had a positive relationship, he said. Tilly was especially enthusiastic and responsive to Dawn. He knew her well and “liked working with her.”
In yet another public statement, Chuck embarked on a lengthy treatise on “building a relationship with these animals and developing trust. Before we put anybody in the water, it’s two or three years.” But he acknowledged, �
��We’re working with wild animals, they’re not tame. If there’s sexual activity in the pool, or maybe they’re socially interacting with each other, we’re very sensitive to those things. You don’t pet your dog in the middle of a dogfight. We train our staff to observe these things.”4
If something didn’t “feel right,” trainers simply got out of the water. They knew when to step back and “let them be animals,” Chuck said. All trainers knew of the risk, he said. But working with killer whales was worth it. It had been “one of the most awesome experiences I’ve ever had in my life.”
The great bull Tilikum, Thad added, was a “valuable asset.” As the only breeding male, he was often kept separated from the other killer whales. The same separation happened in the wild, he said. That statement, Naomi thought, was simply untrue.
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Battle Stations
On Saturday, February 27, 2010, SeaWorld tried to gain the upper hand in its PR recovery war. That morning at 11:00 a.m., the Orlando park resumed the “Believe” show, only now with all trainers remaining safely on dry land. SeaWorld had also scheduled a tribute to Dawn Brancheau. Loyal fans began lining up as early as 9:00 a.m. for the event.
Images of Dawn, working with killer whales, were projected on the JumboTrons. “It brought tears to my eyes. She died doing what she loved,” park guest Billy Grady from Georgia told the Sentinel. “If it stopped, I don’t think she’d be happy. She’s looking down on us, and she’s happy it went on,” Grady said.1
Melodramatic, perhaps, but Grady was probably right. His sentiments were echoed by friends and family of the deceased at a private burial in her native Indiana on March 1. It attracted worldwide media attention, including from CNN’s Larry King Live. Reporter Jason Knowles of WLS-TV Chicago covered the proceedings.