Just about everyone with access to a 24-hour news channel has
seen the home video of a killer whale attacking his trainer at
a Sea World facility in San Antonio. The whale, named Ky, is
seen repeatedly trying to submerge his trainer of 10 years—in
front of a shocked audience which turned out to see a seemingly
innocuous event called the Shamu Adventure.
No doubt trying to dismiss the attack as a simple rush of
randy hormones, the trainer has publicly labeled it the actions
of a teenage whale nearing breeding age.
To which we would say: That's exactly the point.
Ky, like every captive wild animal in the world, whether a
circus elephant or
a white tiger in Las
Vegas, has complex physical and behavioral needs, which can
never be fully satisfied in captivity. Breeding is just one of
many such needs among killer whales, commonly known as orcas. They also require
lots of open water and the life-long companionship of their own
family members.
That's one reason why The HSUS is constantly encouraging
summer vacationers to avoid marine parks: Visitors only help
perpetuate this grim illusion—that orcas and dolphins are
perfectly content performing in tanks that can never recreate
their natural environment.
"To say that Ky's actions were motivated by his teenage
hormones is a bit like saying a lion's hunting instincts are
motivated by his appetite," says Naomi Rose, The HSUS's marine
mammal scientist. "Well, yeah, maybe that's right. But that's
not the point. The point is humans cannot predict, let alone
control, these natural behaviors. The danger in thinking we can
control these animals is injury, maybe even death."
The Human Factor
As the Sea World incident underscores, captive orcas present
real dangers to humans. There are no firm figures on the number
of orcas held captive around the world; about 50 of the whales
are believed to be held in the United States, Canada, Japan,
France, and Argentina. But the pressures to secure more wild
killer whales remain, as witnessed by Russia's return to the captive
orca business last year. And why not? Some reports say
captive orcas are worth $1 million each.
Statistics documenting human injuries and deaths related to
captive orcas are hard to come by. But the mainstream press has
documented some cases in which humans did not fare well against
the appropriately named killer whales.
In 1991, a 11,000-pound orca named Tillikum, along with two
female whales, drowned a young part-time trainer named Keltie
Byrne at Sealand of the Pacific in Canada. The incident was
hauntingly similar to Ky's attack in San Antonio: The earlier
attack occurred in front a horrified audience, which watched
helplessly as one of the killer whales grabbed Byrne in its
mouth and dragged her around the pool, mostly underwater. The
entire incident played out over several long minutes. "The
whales weren't trying to kill Byrne, but Tillikum and his orca
companions didn't know that humans can't hold their breath as
long as whales," says The HSUS's Rose.
Tillikum was later shipped to Sea World of Orlando where he
would be implicated in another human death. A man, who had
apparently stayed in the park after closing hours, jumped into
Tillikum's tank in July 1999. He was found dead the next
morning, naked and draped across the whale. The man's swim
trunks were found in the water, and his body was scraped up, a
sign that Tillikum had dragged him around the bottom and sides
of the tank. (Tillikum, incidentally, is Ky's father.)
"What all these incidents tell us is what marine parks don't
want you to know: captive killer whales are dangerous to
people, even those who have worked with these animals for years
and years," notes The HSUS's Rose. "In both episodes with
Tillikum, the whale wasn't necessary trying to hurt the
unintended victims, but his very size and behavior makes him a
danger to people, even if the whale were just 'playing' with
the people. Simply put, these are wild animals. Taming them is
only an illusion; their natural behaviors will always pose a
threat to the people foolish enough to interact with them."
By the same logic, people often think they can safely
interact with dolphins at so-called swim-with-the-dolphin
programs. This is a myth, too, says Rose.
In their joint 2003 report, Biting the Hand that Feeds:
The Case Against Dolphin Petting Pools, the Whale and
Dolphin Conservation Society and The HSUS wrote, "...[M]edia
reports and historic government records reveal a range of
serious injuries caused to visitors by captive dolphins in
interactive programs, including cuts, bruises, broken bones,
bites and rakes. Because of the sheer size of dolphins and
their concentration in petting pools, abrupt movements and
occasionally aggressive competition for food can put visitors
at risk of physical harm."
Nor are dolphins themselves safe in captivity. A
four-month-old female dolphin died on Wednesday, July 28, at
the National Aquarium in Baltimore; tests revealed she had a
serious bacterial infection. While her mother performed in a
show earlier that day, the young dolphin was the target of two
sexually aggressive male dolphins, who reportedly pushed her
under water for longer than she had oxygen. Experts believe the
young dolphin, because of the infection, could not handle the
routine roughhousing.
As The HSUS's Rose notes, "It's not unusual for male
dolphins to do what they did. They do it in the wild. That's
why mother dolphins separate themselves. In captivity, however,
they don't have that option."
The bottom line: Marine parks are not necessarily safe
places for either marine mammal or human. Patronizing these
facilities only perpetuates this misconception. If you really
want to see marine mammals this summer, consider booking a
whale or dolphin watching cruise.
To learn more about orcas and marine mammals in captivity,
click on the links below.