Suicidal Whale Tales
This is the first what may be an occasional series of newspaper columns I wrote for The Virginian-Pilot that absolutely infuriated readers. It was published on October 11, 1997 during a period when the US Navy was especially busy shuttling marine mammals to and fro. I offer it to you today as a humorous - I hope - alternative to politics and war during the final week of 2023.
Maybe I'm missing something, but I can't figure out why suicidal whales get to ride on Navy planes but humans with the will to live can't.
Suppose for instance, I came down with some rare disease and had to get to Johns Hopkins in a hurry. Would the Navy provide a transport plane for me equipped with a team of volunteers to mist me down the whole way to Maryland?
Maybe, if I changed my name to Shamu.
That's exactly what happened this week when yet another whale was tormented during its final hours by well-intentioned humans who couldn't bear to watch nature take its course.
Maybe the only way whales can spend their final days unmolested by human beings is to wear ``do not resuscitate'' signs around their necks.
Nature intended only one thing to happen when a marine mammal comes ashore: death. Some people have trouble with that concept, especially those who grew up thinking Flipper and Free Willy were their friends.
Again this month, marine mammal do-gooders in Virginia Beach rescued a pygmy sperm whale and her calf who had beached themselves in Back Bay National Wildlife Refuge, only to have the two of them die far from the sound of the sea and the smell of salt air. The calf expired in a tank at the Virginia Marine Science Museum, while the mother hung on for a few more days - until lots of money could be spent transporting her to the Baltimore Aquarium.
The whale flew to Baltimore courtesy of the U.S. Navy, on board a C-2 transport plane. Yup, our tax dollars at work. At the risk of sounding like some whale-hating spoilsport, I think the Navy ought to get out of the whale shuttling business and get back to defending our country. It's a fact: Whales were not meant to fly.
The Navy is frequently enlisted to deliver sick and dying animals to other locations. In 1991 it flew a pregnant pygmy sperm whale to Sea World in Florida, apparently so she could die in a warm climate. I had an aunt who wanted to do the same, only she had to take the bus.
No one knows why marine mammals beach themselves - some scientists think they are sick, others believe their biological navigational equipment is malfunctioning or that they simply get lost chasing prey into shallow water. Whatever the reason, once they run aground they usually die - even when the best veterinary medicine known to man is out at their disposal. Beached whales and dolphins, as sad and helpless as they are, are nature's kamikaze pilots.
Everyone knows they want to die, but the minute some people see the ``stranded'' mammals they go into overdrive trying to save their doomed lives.
For instance, last February a 40-foot fin whale - nicknamed Freddie by the Outer Banks folks determined to save him from himself - floundered around on a Pamlico Sound sand bar for several days while teams of people tried everything to save its life. Their suggestions were hilarious: Initially, rescuers considered blasting under the animal with fire hoses to displace sand. Later, a team of jet skiers proposed circling the poor animal at full throttle in an attempt to move enough sand from around him so he could swim free. (And Freddie thought he'd found a quiet place to die.) Another misguided soul wanted to tow the 40-ton whale out to sea by its tail. (Who knows, maybe they'd lined up an aircraft carrier to help.)
Mercifully, Freddie died naturally, surrounded by weeping animal lovers.
Then there was the dolphin who beached himself in Virginia Beach in March. Volunteers worked around the clock for 60 hours to keep the animal alive, even reaching down into its stomach to pull out chunks of undigested food. When the poor dolphin finally died they found its sinus cavity was filled with parasitic worms. There was a reason that animal ran aground.
Back in May, a constipated Harp seal was stranded and later flown to Baltimore Aquarium. He died after he inhaled food. In a newspaper story after the seal's death, one of the would-be rescuers sobbed that ``the whole crew is taking it pretty hard.''
Get a grip folks. Death is just part of life. Even for cute animals who are rumored to be smarter than humans.
I've always been amazed by the amount of compassion people can summon up for sick whales while at the same time displaying a callousness toward some forms of human life. For instance, many Americans think abortion is swell. Lots of folks think humans in the US have a constitutional right to die. Others are comfortable with the notion of doctor-assisted suicide.
In other words, if old Aunt Bessie is almost a goner, call for Dr. Kevorkian. But if it's a beached whale, bring on the U.S. Navy.
