Authors: Mark A. Simmons
I should add something here. There were many great people who dedicated their life
to Keiko. Unfortunately, in the end, when the money ran out, so did the support from
many of Keiko’s purported friends. But that should be a footnote in this story. Killer
whales are wild animals that deserve to live their lives as nature intended. They
are part of the web of life that keep the ocean healthy and in balance. But they face
a multitude of threats, most of them caused by man. Capturing animals to preserve
the species might someday be the only choice we have left, but for now no animal should
be
captured purely for entertainment. In our best zoos, we have successful breeding programs
in place. Let’s take care of the ones in captivity that have no hope of being released
into the wild and, more importantly, let’s make sure we take care of their ocean habitat
before zoos are the only place left they can survive. The lessons of Keiko and experience
have proven over and over again that, as a society, we care enough to do something
about it. We just have to use that knowledge and experience to do the right thing.
—Wyland
Islamorada, Florida, 2014
This story, the story of Keiko’s reintroduction to the wild, has been in my head,
plaguing me constantly, for the last decade. I began writing the manuscript late in
2000, immediately following my departure from the project. Since then, I have attacked
this book many times over the years with elaborate choreographed assaults. My attempts
have resulted in various author-like voices, none of which was true to me or Keiko
and those who sacrificed much for the love of a whale. Finally, my wife, Alyssa, who
lived this experience and adventure with me directed me to write the book as if I
was documenting Keiko’s story for my daughters. This voice, told to open hearts and
minds, was much more natural for me. I hope it is for you, the reader, as well.
Keiko’s story would never have seen the light of day had it not been for the tireless
support of a few notable family members, friends and colleagues. Lisa Lauf Rooper,
you are my muse. Without your inspiration I would have cowered away from this task
long ago. Andy Schleis, my humble thanks for a kick in the pants when I most needed
it. To my beautiful, intelligent wife—my “wingwoman”—the Bible says that through God
all things are possible; you have stubbornly championed His word in ways that I cannot
describe.
My most humble thanks to the many lifelong compatriots from the Keiko Release Project
for their feedback, many broken hours dredging up tender details and for keeping me
on the straight and narrow. Jeff Foster, Michael Parks, Jim Horton, Guðmundur
“Gummi” Eyjólfsson, Kelly Reed Gray, Thomas Sanders, Mark Trimm, Sigurlína Guðjónsdóttir,
Smári Harðarson, Ingunn Björk Sigurðardóttir Bjartmarz, Sveinbjörn Guðmundsson, and
Tracy Karmuza McLay. You each have my undying gratitude.
To Stephen McCulloch, your encouragement during the last many years, and your passion
for our shared field has been nothing short of awe inspiring. Further, your wise and
timely introduction to Wyland proved a remarkable foresight. Wyland’s publishing experience
kept this story from certain disaster at the hands of the wrong editors. His personal
investment in Keiko’s life and lessons lent itself to a collaboration uncomplicated
by senseless controversy. We both share the same hope (and urgency) for a more collaborative
future in marine life conservation.
Lastly, I thank my dear friend Robin B. Friday Sr. for his place in this journey.
You are my brother in Christ and will always have my respect and admiration.
Killing Keiko
Let us take things as we find them. Let us not attempt to distort them into what they
are not. We cannot make facts. All our wishing cannot change them. We must use them.
John Henry Cardinal Newman
Before meeting Keiko, I knew him well.
There are those who would have you believe that killer whales at marine parks are
somehow different than their wild brethren; that the whales in zoological settings
are crazed by years in “prison.” In more than twenty-seven years working with and
around killer whales in parks and the open ocean, I have never seen one ounce of evidence
to support such a statement. What I have seen is that these amazing animals adapt
well to almost any change. They are top predators, and among their many talents is
the ability to thrive in many environments.
The playful interactions I have witnessed among killer whales in the wild are identical
to the play I’ve watched thousands of times among whales in marine parks. Breeding
and social behavior is identical, even cooperative hunting is often witnessed with
zoological whales when they bait and trap the occasional seagull. The primary difference
is that wild whales spend much more time engaged in hunting and traveling (primarily
to hunt or follow migrating fish) and less in play and social behavior. Although killer
whales certainly engage in different behaviors depending upon their surroundings,
the animals I have witnessed all share one
common unmistakable characteristic: the disposition of the ocean’s top predator.
Killer whales are like the lone wolf in a busy dog park. They carry an air of superiority
over all others around them and are the masters of all they survey. They have the
temperament of calm and benevolent dictators descended from a royal bloodline. This
disposition is remarkably consistent among every killer whale I’ve ever witnessed.
Killer whales do not act crazy, for it is beneath them regardless of their circumstances.
However, as it is with every living thing on this planet, an individual animal’s behavior
(how it acts and what motivates those actions) is influenced by a multitude of variables.
This precept frames perhaps the most vital dynamic when introducing an animal to significant
change. As the science of behavior constitutes the foundation by which an animal’s
behavior can be successfully altered; the species, the individual animal’s traits
and learning history from birth thus comprise the medium. All past experiences shape
the likelihood of how future behavior will occur. It is no wonder that the science
of behavior along with Keiko’s past in the company of man would play the key roles
in his return to the wild.
Killer whales are not dolphins. I’ve heard too many times, “Killer whales are just
dolphins; they are the largest member of the dolphin family
(delphinidae)
.” Rubbish! These are the words of a taxonomist. They may be scientifically categorized
in the same family as dolphins; however, behaviorally killer whales are no more like
dolphins than rottweilers are like retrievers. Anyone telling you different is likely
to get you maimed or killed.
There is no limit to the number of self-proclaimed experts out there or those touting
“Dr. This or That” and “Suzie Q, Ph.D.” in killer whale biology, ecology, and a few
other “ologies.” I am not overly impressed. One can study something from a distance
and write all the papers he or she likes, but the more distal and passive methods
of study contribute little in the way of truly understanding an animal like a killer
whale. Put yourself front and center in their watery world, neck deep in glorious
vulnerability … only then do you begin to understand how they think and what they
are made of; all preexisting assumptions are quickly cast asunder. There, face to
face with a killer whale, adrenaline fuels a crisp mind free from distraction and
with laser-like focus. In those moments, close attention is paid to what is real.
After working with many different animals in a zoological setting, I can think of
no other animal that compares with a killer whale. Thinking back about working with
polar bears, walrus, sea lions, various species of dolphins, false killer whales,
canids and birds, there always seems to be something profound missing in those interactions.
No doubt these latter relationships are special and wonderful, but that one extra
indescribable ingredient with killer whales makes the cake rise just a little higher,
taste just a little richer.
Let me be clear, never is the illusion of control more apparent than when working
with
a killer whale. It means working together; there is no dominion over the animal.
It means depending on each other and depending on a strong and well-established relationship,
a working relationship that earns the animal’s attention and trust over time. It is
a partnership, a cooperative effort, not a trainer leading a whale and certainly not
that of a boss dictating to an employee. The partnership is 50/50 and each fulfills
a distinctive role in that relationship. The trainer must do his or her part to protect
a hard-earned trust and bond utilizing every ounce of intellect, skill and ability
to read that animal and provide a clear, consistent atmosphere of learning.
Killer whales are constantly communicating to their partners in a training environment.
It is up to the trainer to learn the language of killer whales and the idiosyncrasies
of the particular animal. The basis for that communication is the science of behavior
and the art of applying behavioral modification. Simply put, this means that
environment, cues
, and
consequences
shape the way an animal behaves and the choices it makes. This principle is not exclusive
to zoological settings; rather it is a hallmark of nature, existing in every setting.
Nor is it exclusive to other animal species; it holds true for humans as well. Influence
on behavior is like
gravity, always present. Behavior is always in a state of change and always able to
be influenced. At any given time, there is a vast array of forces at work shaping
the way an animal (or a person) behaves.
Understanding the principles that shape behavior is only the beginning step in the
process of introducing change. There must also be an understanding of the particular
species’ genetic history, the individual animal’s learning history since birth, its
physical capabilities and limitations, its environment (past and present), its social
setting and where it fits within the social hierarchy.
To effectively manage how an animal’s behavior is shaped, variables that can be controlled
must be identified and managed proactively. Environmental conditions that set the
stage for certain responses, other animals, human activity, sounds, the frequency
of and the predictability of every stimulus perceived by the animal; these are but
a few of the variables within one’s sphere of influence. In the case of Keiko (Keh-ee-koh)
and his reintroduction to the wild, that sphere of influence was sophisticated and
many layered. There were many potential factors outside this sphere of influence for
which there was no control. Nonetheless, there had to be a masterful awareness of
all potential factors at work in Keiko’s environment.
Potential influences outside of our control can be anything and happen at any time:
they are like uninvited guests who crash a party. A good host will pick up on these
situations and gracefully turn them to his or her advantage. The complexity of Keiko’s
release was on an order of magnitude light-years beyond what Hollywood portrayed in
the film
Free Willy.
In order to offer him the best chance of success, the application of learning principles
and the constant analysis of all areas of influence had to be fluid and unrehearsed.
There was much at work that pitted the odds against Keiko’s success; however, when
all the elements shaping behavior are managed appropriately, anything is possible.
I spent the most formative years of my young adult life working alongside killer whales
in a zoological setting. There is no
complete manual on how to work with a killer whale that I know of, but if there were,
it would, among many other things, advise new trainers that reacting with fear or
intimidation will get them killed. This is not to be confused with being stupid or
taking unnecessary risks, but one cannot be timid with a killer whale. Being a top
predator, they are not prone to “small talk.” They carry an impressive array of sensory
capabilities, and they are deliberate in everything they do. You cannot sneak up on
them. They are 100 percent more aware of their environment than we are.
The most remarkable illustration of a working relationship with a killer whale I’ve
seen (outside of the real thing) is depicted in the movie
How to Train Your Dragon
. The connection and delicate trust portrayed between the lead character Hiccup and
the Night Fury dragon masterfully illustrate many uncanny parallels found in the bonds
between trainer and killer whale.
A trainer has nothing that will impress a killer whale, and a killer whale has no
burning desire to impress that trainer or earn his attention. If the animal works
with his trainers, it is because it chooses to do so, and that choice is most definitely
based on relationship; on the excitement and challenge its caregivers can offer. One
cannot motivate a killer whale with food for long. Leveraging food to motivate animals
is an antiquated method used by a few marine mammal trainers in the 1950s and ‘60s.
Killer whales are immune to this approach. With a formidable layer of blubber, they
can easily go without food for several weeks. I have witnessed killer whales offered
salmon (a delicacy) take the tendered fish only to spit it, almost perfectly fileted,
back in the lap of the unwelcome trainer. I’ve seen countless times when a whale has
refused to work with a certain trainer, only to meet the favored next with unbounded
energy and enthusiasm. Food is not a compelling motivator. Make note of this important
lesson; it is a critical component to understanding Keiko’s journey back to the wild.
To understand Keiko, the effort to return him to the wild, and the project’s outcome,
three defining factors stand out above all others: 1. recognizing how learning occurs
and behavior is
influenced; 2. knowledge of what it means to work with a killer whale in a training
environment; and 3. awareness of the distinctive traits of a killer whale. They are
the only means by which decisions made throughout Keiko’s journey can be weighed against
their impact on his behavior, his choices and the final outcome.