The trials and tribulations of killer whale research – part 3

Posted on December 4, 2012 by Amanda Banks

And so at last to that final bullet point…

Being an object of sport for fast paced dolphins, while simultaneously navigating round humpback whales, testing an underwater camera and preventing an excited dog from falling overboard

Photo courtesy of Tony Thomas, Blue Ocean Whale Watch

Another day, another whale… Albeit not of the killer variety. Peggy, Cindy, Whiskie and I were out on a beautiful, sunny, calm day in the bay. Having spent a few hours scouting for orcas with no success, we heard on the radio that a whale watching boat had found a couple of humpbacks; some of the first to be arriving in the bay from distant ocean playgrounds. Monterey Bay is not a breeding ground for these giant hobos, but it is their equivalent of a favorite, abundant restaurant. The bay is a feeding hotspot and many species come here to fill themselves up. (Not that it has always been this way. Monterey Bay’s healthy diversity was almost destroyed by the fishing and canning industry in years gone by. Today it is a real, tangible, miraculous conservation success story… Reassuring to know that humans can instigate miracles occasionally.)

Photo courtesy of Tony Thomas, Blue Ocean Whale Watch

While humpbacks are not Peggy’s research subjects, she will collect photographs and data on them when the opportunity arises. As a novice boat driver, I asked Peggy to guide me as I steered closer to the whales to ensure I followed the correct protocols around them.

Photo courtesy of Tony Thomas, Blue Ocean Whale Watch

The humpbacks were busy doing what humpbacks often do; hanging out at the surface to breathe, diving down to feed and returning to the surface at intervals. For first time whale watchers, this mundane event can be quite a spectacle as humpbacks fluke when they dive, (i.e. stick their tales in the air to thrust their buoyant bodies underwater). But for us, a more fascinating view was to be found looking at the radar to see bait balls (tightly shoaled fish), both small and huge, appear as a fuzzy blur, and knowing that this was the feast that the whales were after.

In the midst of this relatively tranquil scene, some exciting newcomers were about to come flying out of the wings to take center stage… Pacific white-sided dolphins… Hundreds of them… Careening past at high speed…

Pacific white-sided dolphin, © Peggy Stap/www.MarineLifeStudies.org

Photo courtesy of / © Peggy Stap, http://www.marinelifestudies.org

I cannot give adequate words to describe the physical tremor of energy I feel whenever these dolphins are present. Whales are beautiful, huge and majestic… Killer whales are sleek, stunning and dramatic… But dolphins, especially these small, dart-like creatures, are so fast, so fleeting, so full bodied, that they move me in a far greater way. There is nothing to compare with seeing them in the wild; a screen of any dimension cannot convey the energy they give off. I have never met any other animal with the same overwhelming sense of firework-sparkle-dancing-aliveness as these creatures. There is something so abundant about the way in which they move through their fluid environment. As a dancer I see this movement resembling a spontaneous, glorious, joyfully improvised dance. And in the core of my body I sense a buzzing, tingling, expansive, limitless energy emanating from them. Us humans, apart from dancers and other physically engaged people, have all but lost the immediate, embodied joy that comes from moving in such a completely unrestrained, unselfconscious, freely flowing way. And what we have lost, we often cannot imagine existing in another creature and we cannot connect with the simple fact that Pure Joy can be found in the body, rather than in the head. My urge to leave the world of trapped-in-their-bodies humans and join these liberated-in-their-bodies dolphins is overwhelmingly strong when I see them moving in this way!

Photo courtesy of / © Peggy Stap, www.marinelifestudies.org

Photo courtesy of / © Peggy Stap, http://www.marinelifestudies.org

Peggy, Cindy and I were mesmerized with the fleeting glimpses of leaping dolphins passing us on all sides. And Whiskie… Well, she was at the bow of the boat greeting them enthusiastically. “Let’s follow their path”, called Peggy, “They might bow-ride with us!”

And with that came my most treasured memories of being in Monterey Bay this year. I turned the boat and maneuvered away from the humpbacks to follow the tracks of the dolphins as they headed SSW. Under Peggy’s direction, I increased speed while she stood at the bow with Whiskie at her side.

Photo courtesy of Tony Thomas, Blue Ocean Whale Watch

For a few gorgeously fantastic minutes we were as much at one with the dolphins as it is possible for three humans and a dog on a boat to be. Which I guess is not saying much really! But, to at least be travelling close to their speed, in the middle of a pod that stretched out around us in all directions, sensing their interest in us as they veered towards the boat to bow ride briefly before careering off again faster than you could think was possible, and catching sight, ever so briefly, of a glistening, curious, intelligent eye as it took a sidelong look at us in mid-leap… Exhilarating… Totally exhilarating!

Now, we might all know what that word means, and it may get overused in print, but stop for a moment and contemplate… How often, really truly, can you honestly say that you feel exhilarated? How many times a day, a week, a month or a year, is that word not an exaggeration of your emotional state? …Mmm, I wonder. Maybe for some of us it is more often than others, but there is one thing I am certain of; experiencing the natural world offers such mood-enhancing moments more than many other experiences in life… Although of course, being the strangely conflicted and complicated animals that we are, we often miss out on such offerings, choosing instead to make other experiences such as television, computers and material things more important. While those things provide distractions from our worries; a constant background static, that serves to numb our lack of joy, I do not believe they often provide a source of joy itself. But without doubt, a deep, true source of joy, exhilaration and contentment can be found in nature and in our body’s connection with nature. And when we disengage ourselves from the complicated, confusing, life-sucking traps we have surrounded ourselves with, we can connect with it, maybe only for a few fleeting seconds, but the replenishment and hope that such moments provide can sustain us for a lifetime.

Photo courtesy of / © Peggy Stap, http://www.marinelifestudies.org

Anyway, I digress. Exhilarating… And, kind of comical too. Cindy was desperately trying to record data while catching glimpses of leaping dolphins; being the data recorder can be a self-sacrificing role as you often miss the most spectacular bits of action, “Wow, did you see that dolphin do a double back-flip, front somersault, perfect dismount?” “What, again? No way, I was busy recording our GPS position!” I was steering, constantly having to adjust to the push of each wave, with one hand at the ready to slow the engine if needed. Peggy was at the bow experimenting with a new underwater camera, attempting to record a shot or two of the dolphins as they rode the bow wave in front of the boat. And Whiskie… Well, Whiskie was beside herself. I think dolphins must be her favorite cetacean; she certainly seems to get most excited whenever certain dolphin species are present. She was barking at them from the bow, running along the edge of the boat to bark over the side, running back to the bow and barking some more… Which is all very good for canine-cetacean-relations, as the dolphins seem to be as curious about her as she is about them, but not so good for general dog-health-and-safety. After an almost ‘dog overboard!’ moment, we reluctantly slowed the boat. At which point the dolphins carried on their way. They were still travelling past us on all sides, but we were no longer an object of sport for them. No speed, no game… They ignored us!

Risso's dolphin, © Peggy Stap/www.MarineLifeStudies.org

Photo courtesy of / © Peggy Stap, http://www.marinelifestudies.org

After that, the scene returned to a gentle state. We traversed a wide arc or two, attempting to lure a few more dolphins close, but then let them be as one last group of animals came gently lulling their way onto stage… Risso’s dolphins… A family group, with babies. “Breathe out, slow down, go with the flow, there’s no rush, enjoy a tranquil moment or two, chill man chill…” That is the feeling that these large, white, blunt headed, slow moving dolphins emanate to me. There can not be a much greater difference in state-of-being than can be seen between Pacific white-sided and Risso’s dolphins. If you ever thought a dolphin was a dolphin, then rethink! Although Risso’s can get frisky, (and I have witnessed some pretty fast paced and flirtatious interactions between the two species, as well as a Risso’s version of surfing), most often they exude calmness and a kind of languid ease. Meditative relaxation appears to be, at least from a blatantly humanized perspective, their forte. I would not be surprised to learn that Buddha had been a Risso’s dolphin in a previous life, thus giving rise to his future enlightenment in human form!

Photo courtesy of / © Peggy Stap, http://www.marinelifestudies.org

After that encounter, our day at sea drew to a close. We returned home happy even though we had not seen a single hint of a killer whale that day. And that marks the end of my accounts of assisting Peggy Stap of Marine Life Studies in Monterey Bay this Spring… But, I hope to visit her again next year to partake in another game of trials and tribulations.

For now, looking back on that day and the joyful-in-the-moment-tingling-aliveness I experienced, I fall once again into gently mulling reflections… It occurs to me that the greatest gift which Nature can bestow on us, its most unruly and delinquent of children, is the gift of Now. How many spiritual and life-coach gurus attempt to nudge us onto the path of being connected to Now; to this single moment in time rather than the projected future or completed past? It is, supposedly, one of the highest forms of emotional and spiritual intelligence to achieve such a connection to the moment, such a letting go of all desires, distractions and thoughts built up from our addiction to our egos, our past and future… To attain such a total immersion in Now-ness that it gives birth to the unique bliss of ‘being in the flow’… How strange then that, when quite probably every other creature on Earth bar ourselves is able to achieve and live in this state effortlessly, we cannot be graceful enough to credit their intelligence as being anywhere near our own, let alone superior. We have only just relatively recently gotten our collective heads around the notion that there are different types of intelligence in humans. Bless our cotton socks, (an English term of endearment, given with a gentle pat on the head), how much longer will it take us to collectively accept and appreciate that there are many other non-human types of intelligence, some of which far surpass our limited, cognitive abilities?

I wonder…

Photo courtesy of Tony Thomas, Blue Ocean Whale Watch

A nearly Christmas request…

For anyone who has enjoyed getting to know Peggy & Marine Life Studies either back in April/May 2011 or summer/autumn 2012, she is, as ever, in need of your support to continue her work. Please check the links below if you are willing and able to send a small donation her way…

A Gift that Gives
Birdies for Charity
Montery County Gives!
Donate a vehicle to MLS
Take it to the Streets

The trials and tribulations of killer whale research

Posted on November 8, 2012 by Amanda Banks

Can my memory stretch back that far…? Back to this April when I revisited Peggy Stap of Marine Life Studies (MLS), to assist her once again with her research in Monterey Bay, attempting to track down some enigmatic killer whales…? (Those smart and elusive animals that experienced spotters on the bay’s many whale watching boats often only find once in an azure-blue moon).

Well, in all honesty I will say that my memory is pretty appalling at best, but I will attempt to recapture the fragments that my leaking-boat of a brain still holds.

I was staying with Peggy for two weeks… Two weeks of intensive research… Out on her boat ‘Sweetpea’ every day on the hunt… Photographing dorsal fins left, right and center (the established method for identifying individuals)… Recording reams of written data on their behaviour, numbers, interactions with other animals… Slowly, slowly building up a network of data that on its own may seem insignificant but, over the days, months and years, becomes a valuable repository of information to be used as crucial evidence in some future moment of political or business decision making that may impact the lives of whales for better or worse… Important, scientific inquiry… Long, exhausting days at sea from pre-dawn to dusk, plus hours of imputing data into computer programs, processing photographs and establishing whale ID’s…

Well, that was supposed to be the general idea… Assuming that we could get out on the water… BUT, assumptions have no control over the weather or the ocean. (When have human assumptions, thoughts, wishes or demands ever convinced such powers of nature to obey?)

For almost a week of my two week stay we remained grounded on dry land. The wind blew and the waves in Monterey Bay frolicked in response; adorned with more gleeful, white tiaras of foam than I have ever seen in the bay, (more even than Peggy is generally used to seeing). We grew accustomed to the official sea reports displaying advisory warnings for boaters and we enjoyed the view from Peggy’s window; watching the waves run away to join the circus and come back to put on a show. We could but sigh wisely, nod our heads and acknowledge that this was just one more example of the complications and challenges of being a cetacean researcher. And, with the amount of work which Peggy ALWAYS has lying in piles and on long lists all around her, the week was of course put to good use.

During our second week, providence saw fit to deliver a mixed bag of offerings, the highlights of which were:

Almost, but not quite, capsizing and living to tell the tale
Being rained on intensely, and for long periods of time
Chasing strange smells, oily slicks and elusive reports of killer whales hunting prey
Being an object of sport for fast paced dolphins, while simultaneously navigating round humpback whales, testing an underwater camera and preventing an excited dog from falling overboard
Briefly spotting three orcas, before inadvertently, but ever so quickly, losing them again

Let me elaborate…

Almost, but not quite, capsizing and living to tell the tale

Well, we almost made it out of Moss Landing harbor, certainly no one can say we lacked enthusiasm for the task. This was to be our first day out and we had Blue Ocean Whale Watch’s naturalist and MLS volunteer Kate Cummings at the wheel. The sea was still only just returning from the circus (and wondering what had gotten into itself) and we had heard some strange, curious warnings about the perils of Moss Landing’s harbor mouth… But we heeded them not. Peggy and I had spent several hours preparing gear ready to take to the boat and the three of us worked hard on stowing it all securely. Whiskie the Whale Spotter, the seasoned sea-dog that she is, was on the boat, wrapped up in her many layered outfit, ready to sniff out a few whales for us.

And all went well. For about the first five minutes. And then… It didn’t go so well after that.

As we turned the corner from the main harbor and out towards the harbor mouth, the waves being pushed and channelled in from the open water outside the harbor suddenly appeared to be rearing up in front of us, dauntingly and unexpectedly high. In that strange way that time often does backflips in moments like these, and even though Kate had slowed the boat almost to standstill as we questioned the wisdom of any attempt to exit the mouth, all at once we were right in the center of it, with the channel narrowed around us and the waves coming towards us, proudly presenting their highest and most powerful peaks.

And then there it was… Neptune’s moment of glory… A wall of water right in front of the bow and bearing down on us… Everyone grabbed hold of something, anything, and somehow Whiskie got herself to safety further back in the boat… Sweetpea climbed painfully up the blue-grey wall, and I remember wondering vaguely in frozen-brain state if she would flip over as she neared the peak, then the wave smashed onto us and was gone. In a second, the boat, us and Whiskie were drenched, and there was water filling the tiny deck all around us, with boxes of equipment that had been knocked from their carefully stowed positions floating pathetically in it.

And somehow we were now sideways on to the waves… A dangerous place to be… And the next wave was showing no mercy but heading straight towards us… If it hit the boat sideways it would most likely flip it, and us, over… But Kate was at the wheel and, although she was still new to captaining a boat, she kept her cool, gave some power to the engines and turned the wheel… Just in time. The next wave hit as we were almost perpendicular to it and we were carried, in a lurching-awkwardly-to-one-side kind of way, on its crest, like some virgin surfer having a miraculous moment of beginner’s luck, back in towards port.

And that was pretty much that. We were all in one piece. Kate was a hero. The boat was a complete mess. We were sodden and shaken. And Whiskie did not seem to care… So much for our day on the ocean, but that did not matter. We were alive and we had just been given a powerful lesson; never, ever, ever, not even in your sweetest dreams, be lulled into thinking that Life Is Safe. It is beautiful, it is a mystery, it is a miracle, and it may even love you… But the Promise of Life will forever also hold uncertainty, fear, pain, danger, death and decay in its outstretched, benevolent hand. Still, you know, always look on the bright side…

Being rained on intensely, and for long periods of time

A much simpler tale to tell, and far less dramatic. We did eventually get out to sea and we did have several days ON the water. However, we also spent some not insignificant periods of time, IN it too. It rained on us. Lots. And then some. Not every day, but on a couple of particularly sodden days, the rain really did seem to want to make up for the fact that it had left us dry on previous occasions. (Never forget… the distinct lack of obedience coupled with uncertainty held in the benevolent hand.)

Now, I enjoy rain. And I look back on those water-logged days with a kind of childlike glee. We had our ‘might save your life if you fall in the ocean, and should at least prolong it, but don’t wear to a fashion parade’ suits on, so we had some protection. But still, after a day at sea, we all managed to arrive back in port with water inside the suits, inside our boots, inside our gloves and inside our ears. Our make-up had given up, run down our faces and slid off onto the deck of the boat, and our hands took on that wonderfully endearing, wrinkled prune texture.

The PROBLEM, or should I say CHALLENGE, with the rain, was visibility. In dearest little Sweetpea, (and I should add that she is open to the elements on all sides), we can only see about three miles in any direction under the best of conditions. Low, grey, dark clouds, with rain hitting waves and casting spray, a breeze and anything greater than 1 on the Beaufort scale (used for measuring surface wave state), do not constitute good conditions. MLS‘s data sheet where the data recorder (sometimes myself, sometimes other volunteers) records various measurements, has boxes for, amongst other things: sea state, visibility and cloud cover. Visibility can be marked as EX, GD, FR or PR; it does not take much to decipher the short hand. On our most rainy day at sea, I was driving the boat while Cindy Thomas, who volunteers with both MLS and Blue Ocean Whale Watch, was recording data. So I cannot be totally sure, but I would hazard a guess that she entered PR for the majority of that day.

In short, during our rainiest days out in Monterey Bay, we did not see any killer whales. In fact, on one day I don’t think we saw any sign of life under the waves at all. We did however spend the eight or so hours faithfully scanning every inch of ocean, (with each person informally taking turns to assume responsibility for one patch of blue-green-grey-ness be that, bow, aft, port or starboard), talking in companionable good humor, dancing some must-get-warm jigs, wishing we’d brought bigger flasks of hot tea, and occasionally being brave enough to pull down our yellow/orange jelly-baby-suits to pee in not-quite-ladylike fashion over the back of the boat.

But now, this whale of a tale has miraculously grown legs and run away on them, so for the rest of those bullet points, (left dangerously hanging somewhere near the top of this post), I’ll have to complete them in my next post… And I’ll be very happy if you’ll be kind enough to come back and read them soon.

Bob Talbot – the undercurrents that move the man

Posted on April 16, 2012 by Amanda Banks

“It was only in my forties that I became less judgmental about us as a species and more accepting that we behave as we do because it is our nature; just like any other creature. When I was young I was morally outraged. On some level I still am, but I now temper that outrage with rational thinking that I hope leads to more effective solutions.”

Bob is a thoughtful and questioning man, whose actions are driven by his emotions and sense of ethics. His insights into the world around him, coupled with his emotional and moral response, have motivated him to achieve great things and to think about life with a depth and integrity that others might easily push aside for the convenience of living comfortably. However, he is also familiar with the internal conflict that this ‘right and wrong / black and white’ side of his character can bring; a conflict between hope and the lack of it, between believing that things can change for the better and fearing they will not, between being judgmental and non-judgmental.

In his youth, this conflict was strong. Bob was guided more by his emotions than by intellect. It was innate for him to feel passionately about the world and our species’ relationship with it. He would feel, react to how he felt and then take action, often driven by anger and frustration. He experienced guilt, angst and the belief that he should be doing more, coupled with an equally judgmental attitude towards the rest of the human race. He took up the good fight believing that if issues were made clear to people then reason and empathy would win out.

Through the years he realized that it was not sustainable or effective to come primarily from an emotional perspective. He also realized that his sense of right and wrong needed some refining. In an attempt to find balance, Bob allowed his brain to have a say.

“My intellect told me that right and wrong do not exist in nature. We all got here by natural selection; ‘should’ and ‘should not’ are not applicable. Intellect says that humans are merely extensions of animals that have gotten too big for our britches and are consuming the planet. It was bound to happen; it is a consequence of natural selection.”

This sparked a dialogue between the rational and emotional sides of Bob’s nature, something along the lines of, “If my intellect told me that all is as it needs to be on this earth, my heart still asked, then what? Do I sit back and watch it happen or do I do something about it? I decided that while acting from the heart may be an uphill battle, I would still do what I could to stop needless suffering and, win or lose, go down swinging.”

Now with over 25 years working on conservation and environmental endeavors, Bob accepts with equanimity that the fight may indeed not be won. For Bob, this acceptance does not mean giving up. Instead, it gives him the calmness and strength to move forwards without fearing the anguish that losing the fight might otherwise bring.

“When you accept with humility that you might lose, there is less pressure, less anticipation of feeling demoralized if the fight is lost. Then you can choose to fight the fight simply because it is worth fighting; regardless of whether you will win or lose.”

As well as accepting that our species may never change our ways and that the fight may never be won, Bob also admits to the glimmer of possibility that we may evolve past this phase of selfishness and apathy into a healthier phase of human existence. Above all he believes that “Whatever the odds, being jaded is not effective, you have to have hope”.

However, Bob is of course human and admits he can still be a judgmental person. “I know that being judgmental does not help a situation, but when I see human beings take, take, take, to the very last animal, it drives me crazy!” He still finds it tough to reconcile himself with our species’ collective consumption. It surprises him how much tolerance we have for aberrant behavior; we cannot seem to stomach being deprived of material things in life but we can stomach our own and other’s behavior towards each other and the planet.

When Bob asks himself what standard of living is rightfully ours to have while not being detrimental to the world around us, he readily admits that this is difficult to answer, with no quick and easy, black and white solution. But, he says,

“It is at least apparent that we have crossed the line to a damaging degree. Human beings have always had, and still have, a tough time being accountable. There is always a price to be paid and we never know the full ripple effect of our actions. But one thing is clear; that if we keep living how we have been living, we do not have much of a future.”

Which is why he remains an environmentalist to this day; one who accepts that our future may not be bright, but nevertheless keeps hope alive that it still could be. And one who wants to instill in each of us the unshakable, ethical and honorable stance that if something is worth fighting for we must fight, regardless of whether we win or lose.

All of which leads us to what will be my next post about Bob; his thoughts on what positive action can be taken, some of the obstacles in the way and the methods he is using to encourage change. Read more next time…

Bob Talbot – a tantalising glimpse of the man behind the camera

Posted on March 29, 2012 by Amanda Banks

Amanda pointing in awe at Bob Talbot, Monterey Bay

I had the excellent fortune to meet and interview Bob Talbot in May 2011. We met while I was accompanying and writing about Peggy Stap of Marine Life Studies (MLS) in Monterey Bay, California. At the time Bob was up-to-his-neck-busy with the filming of a wildlife documentary. Peggy, Jenna (a volunteer with MLS) and I accompanied Bob on one of his research/filming boats for a day, to the benefit of all; Peggy was conducting orca research and Bob was in need of some filmed footage on orcas, a winning combination. We spent the day on the waters of Monterey Bay hunting, (not literally), some cunningly deceptive and illusive killer whales. We were also treated to some splashes of hang-on-to-anything-your-hands-can-reach accelerating take-offs, which Bob with a boyish love for adrenalin-fueled high speed, liked to momentarily indulge in. Of course, with the bay being home to such a diversity of life vulnerable to boat collisions, propellers and noise, these were transitory moments; like a car manically pulling away from the stoplight, only to relax into a safe, speed limit abiding ride.

Luckily the adrenalin rush did not put me off and, after meeting Bob a couple of times, I asked him if I could chat with him further. In a rather bemused state, he agreed. We met one evening on board his larger more comfortable research boat and talked in-depth for a couple of hours. It is thanks to his quietly charismatic presence, intensely interesting personal ethos, and candidly open replies to my questions, (along with some messily scribbled notes), that I can write about that conversation almost a year later.

For anyone who does not know the name Bob Talbot, this might refresh your memory. Did you ever own or ever see a poster sized photograph, probably framed, of a whale’s tail as it dived down to the depths, with the iconic word T A L B O T written along the bottom? Well, that is Bob. Or was Bob. Bob initially became well known for his photographic work of whales. These days he is predominantly a filmmaker. The list of movies and series which he has filmed, directed and/or photographed for include such inspirational titles as Flipper and Free Willy, and more recently the IMAX films Dolphins – The Ride and Oceanmen – Extreme Dive. You can bet any amount of money you like that there is more than one cetacean conservationist in the world who first became inspired to study and protect dolphins and whales through seeing something Bob photographed or filmed.

Bob filming a dead gray whale calf, Monterey Bay

Bob is also, and always has been, a strong environmentalist. Intrinsic to his character are his environmental beliefs and sense of duty or ‘call to action’. It is these underlying traits that have always underpinned his work as a photographer and filmmaker. Over the years he has earned such accolades as the Environmental Hero Award and the SeaKeeper Award and collaborated with such eminent organisations as the Cousteau Society. In keeping with his inclusive attitude towards utilising both soft, educational, diplomatic approaches and tougher, activist, hard-hitting ones, he is on the board of such diverse organisations as The National Marine Sanctuary Foundation and Sea Shepherd Conservation Society.

I was intrigued to uncover the thoughts, feelings and motivations that lie beneath the surface of this proactive, highly respected and experienced filmmaker. I also wanted to learn more about the film project closest to Bob’s heart which he is currently engaged in filming, directing and producing; LegaSea.

On conversing with Bob, I discovered a person with a deep sense of moral values, passion, integrity and justice. I also discovered someone who is just as deeply affected by the apparent lack of these same attributes in the world at large. Like many conservationists and environmentalists, Bob is motivated by both positively and negatively charged driving forces; one motivational force is full of love, curiosity and passion for all that is good and beautiful in this world, the other is in defiance of all that is ugly. The latter driving force was, inevitably, born out of witnessing human actions and their devastating consequences.

I will end this post with a preview of personal reflections from Bob:

“Kids know what is right. I remember being very young, under five years old, and we were at a market. There was a big plastic cow on show to advertise the meat being sold. I remember connecting the chunks of meat with the cow. It seemed silly to show the cow; I mean, there was no buffer! I could instantly see that it didn’t seem right to be eating the meat that came from that animal. Kids know some things innately, but it gets beaten out of us as we grow up.

But then again, maybe it is just me… I might be a mutant! Compassion is not good for the gene pool; ruthlessness is what works. So at times I wonder why I get so worked up!

Sometimes I feel it can be a curse to see suffering and injustice so clearly and to feel compelled to act and do something about it…”

My next post will elaborate on Bob’s perspective, opinions and motivations, all of which have led him to embark on his current groundbreaking LegaSea Project.

Laurie Murison – actions and consequences

Posted on July 28, 2011 by Amanda Banks

“People have become disconnected from the natural world. Children from cities go to the countryside and do not know what to make of the sky because light pollution prevents them from seeing stars. People camping on cliffs on Grand Manan complain they cannot sleep because of the noise of whales breathing out to sea; their lives are so full of background noise that they never usually hear the sounds of nature around them.”

Copyright belongs to Grand Manan Whale and Seabird Research Station

When we are not connected to the natural world we become less connected to the consequences of our actions. At best we have the tendency to be less than thorough when researching all possible outcomes to our actions. And sometimes we remain unintentionally, or wilfully, ignorant of any consequences whatsoever. Laurie is highly aware of our species’ unique capacity for accidentally, or wilfully, creating negative outcomes as a result of our actions. These effects have had, and are increasingly having, a huge impact on our planet and, crucially, on our oceans. Laurie illustrated this with a few examples.

“Throughout history our actions have often been more strongly influenced by the trends of the day than by ethical considerations.” The exploitation of right whales for baleen to service the Europeans’ fashion industry is one such good example. Another is the cultural trend in China for shark fin soup. Historically this dish was only served by the elite, and was an important status symbol. Today, it is becoming increasingly popular as more of the population gain access to a disposable income and “Want to have what others have”.

Many island populations of birds and animals have been wiped out or are threatened as an indirect consequence of our accidental transportation of new species to island habitats. In the Pacific for example, the brown tree snake found its way into the cargo holds of planes and onto islands where it began to predate birds’ eggs, chicks and adults. In the South Atlantic, mice transported on ships found their way on to an important nesting island for the albatross and tucked into their chicks. “On remote islands, these birds have never had to deal with land predators. The chicks and their parents are completely defenceless against a predator they have not encountered before. They have not been able to learn strategies for defending themselves.”

Illegal stowaways aside, shipping is a major challenge for cetaceans today. “In the ocean, sound carries great distances. We are not good at thinking with our ears so we do not perceive the impact of sound in the underwater world. Whales are shouting louder than they did 30-40 hears ago to be heard above the background noise.” One might think that a solution to the noise pollution would be to develop quieter ships. However, even this well intentioned act could have disastrous consequences if not researched fully. Whale-ship collisions are a major cause of whale mortality and serious injury. Even with current noise-producing ships there is a quiet zone directly in front of the ship where no noise can be heard, (due to how sound travels and is deflected by the ocean floor and because the propellers are located at the rear of the ship). If ships were completely noise-free, a whale may never know one was approaching.

Fishing is a contentious and complex issue. “When fishing is carried out for commercial rather than subsistence reasons it will have inherent problems.” People engaged in subsistence fishing have a greater tendency to look after fish stocks, as without the fish there would literally be no food on the table. But when money is the driving force there is an increased tendency to overfish to maintain a certain lifestyle. The fisherman is one step removed from his connection to the natural world. “Fishermen are often very conscious of conserving stocks. But they know that if they do not go out and fish someone else will and they will lose their income. Today’s fishing is complicated by politics and political deals, quotas, competition, conflicting recommendations… Ecologically it makes sense to preserve the oceans but that is not how stocks are managed. And we simply do not know enough to be good managers!”

A current trend is to look youthful. “We have an ageing population who want to remain young and healthy, and avoid consuming toxins.” Because predatory fish are starting to be recognised as being too toxic for our consumption (toxins become concentrated as they progress through the food chain), we are starting to fish lower and lower down the food chain. “We are now turning to catching krill, which is like the foundation of a house; entire ocean ecosystems depend on it. Supposedly we are doing this in a sustainable way, but since estimates of sustainability do not account for all the impacts which the ocean environment is having to cope with, it is questionable whether these estimates are accurate.”

As wild fish stocks are depleted we are increasingly turning to farmed fish. When salmon are farmed they develop lice. To kill the lice the fish are often treated with chemicals released into the water which can leak out of the sea cages. These chemicals kill copepods (a type of plankton, the basis of the ocean food chain, and favourite food of right whales) and other crustaceans because the lice are parasitic copepods (crustaceans). It is as yet unknown whether the chemicals will wash into our oceans to a significant degree that will kill copepods and other life. It is also unknown what other unintentional effects they will have once they mix with salt water and their chemical composition is altered.

Our use of the oceans for travel, food, recreation and industry have had, and always will have, direct or indirect consequences attached. There are so many variables operating it is virtually impossible for us to predict them all, even with the best intentions. I asked Laurie what she believed to be the solution to these many complex interactions of actions and consequences.

“The one factor which has the most damaging impact on this planet is unsustainable population growth. When the population keeps growing, and the need for resources and material goods increases, then any positive changes we make get cancelled out. Population is growing faster than the rate of our positive changes. We are constantly running after ourselves… We need to get ahead of ourselves!”

The most affective change we could make, which would impact on all our other actions, would be to stabilise our wildly increasing population. “If our population remained constant, the environmental improvements we are starting to make would actually make a difference. Economists tell us growth is important. But we cannot afford to keep growing, this adds too much extra pressure. We need a steady state system and we have to stabilise our population. This is the only way for our positive actions to overtake our negative ones.”

Laurie believes this needs to be done hand in hand with developing technology to provide better solutions to allow people to have good standards of living without detrimental side effects. “In the developed countries we need to make improvements to how we exist, so we do not have as great an impact per person. In developing countries it is natural for people to want what we already have; cars, air conditioning, luxury goods etc. Technology needs to provide ways for these things to leave a less damaging footprint, such as solar powered cars.”

Laurie will continue her work and hope that our species will turn a corner and choose to act in ways that have positive consequences. It is likely that if we do not listen to the recommendations of conservationists such as Laurie, and we do not stabilise our population and change our behaviours, then not only the whales, but entire oceans and ourselves will quickly suffer the consequences. Let’s hope we can all improve our listening skills!

As this is my final post on Laurie and Grand Manan Whale and Seabird Research Station, I will leave you with a simple thought.

“The whole ocean is a whale’s home and oceans cover more of the globe than anything else. A human action which may not appear to be critical to an animal in the Bay of Fundy may have a huge impact on them somewhere else. Any action that each and every one of us does anywhere on the planet can and will have an effect somewhere else and increasingly on our vast oceans….”

Laurie Murison – everything you ever wanted to know about North Atlantic right whales

Posted on July 25, 2011 by Amanda Banks

“Most of our knowledge about the North Atlantic right whale has been lost and is only now slowly being re-learned.” This is not surprising considering that this animal is one of the rarest on Earth and has been to the brink of extinction and back, with an unknown future ahead of it.

Having studied right whales since 1982, Laurie is in a good position to know a fair few things about them. “Right whales are as active as humpbacks; they breach, they slap their pectoral fins against the water, they show their flukes when they dive”, (of course this means they are floaters, not sinkers!) They are skim feeders and, depending where their food is quite literally hanging out, they will feed underwater or at the surface. They feed mostly on a type of zooplankton called copepods, (all baleen whales feed on zooplankton as opposed to phytoplankton, which makes them carnivores not herbivores). Right whales are big, round, slow moving animals, not sleek and fast like the fin whale, so they do not need to have a dorsal fin to stabilise their body in the water. They also sport strange white lumps on their heads called callosities. These hairy protuberances do not inhibit the whale’s feeding; right whales have to move slowly to feed with their mouth open, water exits their mouth through the baleen in a turbulent fashion, and therefore, streamlining is not a necessity on their heads. “It is possible that the callosities actually facilitate their feeding, with the whiskers enabling them to sense patches of plankton.”

There are three genetically separate species of right whale; North Atlantic, Pacific and Southern. The North Atlantic right whales are the smallest, in fact all whales in the North Atlantic are smaller than their cousins in other oceans. “It is thought this is due to the availability of food for longer periods of time, which means you do not need as many fat reserves to keep you going in lean times. In essence, when a whale needs to fast for a longer time, it needs a bigger backpack of food and a larger body to carry that backpack.” In the North Atlantic, right whales are prone to irregular meanderings to different parts of the ocean and do not follow set migratory patterns. “They go walkabout frequently. They are very cool!”

Right whales are social animals, with groups constantly coming together and breaking up again. They form ‘courtship groups’ all year round of two to fifty individuals. A female is the focus of the group, with males vying for her attention. “Males compete simply by the quantity of sperm they produce. They therefore have huge testes and continuously high testosterone as they mate throughout the year, which means they are always on the lookout for a female!” The female will mate with multiple males and whoever has the highest production of sperm is most likely to flush out the competition and father a calf. Females only calve in the winter, so although they mate at any time, they only become pregnant once a year; most likely due to ovulating only once in this time. “When we study primates we see that chimpanzees can be very aggressive. Bonobos on the other hand, who mate for social as well as procreational reasons, are incredibly passive and cooperative. It is the same with right whales; their mating is probably as important socially as it is for procreation.”

Calves stay with their mums for a year. During this time they learn independence, as the mum may leave them to feed for up to two hours. “They will generally hang out, experiment with odd movements like surfacing tail first, play with seaweed and take naps. If they start to miss mum, they will look around, vocalise and, if that does not work, start slapping the water and breaching to get her attention.” Mums and calves sometimes form nursery groups where several juveniles play together and then try to figure out whose mum has just arrived to collect one of them. Like all whales, right whales are voluntary breathers which means they cannot sleep for long or they will die from suffocation. Instead, youngsters learn to become experts at taking naps. As adults they surface to breathe, digest their food, and nap for a few minutes, after which they will “Shake, stretch and dive down to feed again”.

Given the very small number of North Atlantic right whales alive, 450-500 individuals, it is probable that “Everyone knows everyone!” Researchers also know each individual and are able to study families, relationships and social structures more easily because of the small population.

But what took right whales to the brink of extinction? Laurie told me their story.

An amazing property of whale blubber, as far as humans are concerned, is that it becomes oil when cooked and, after cooking, remains an oil rather than reverting back to fat. It also burns extremely well and cleanly. These valuable properties may have initially been discovered by accident. Maybe one day a dead whale washed ashore and ‘cooked’ in the sun, turning its blubber into oil, and was later found by a human who had a brilliant idea…

“Commercial whaling began 1,000 years ago in the Bay of Biscay.” The Basque people became efficient hunters. They had stations on shore to spot whales and alert the long boats, the boatsmen rowed out, killed the whale and pulled its body back to shore. The blubber was then cut into chunks and placed in a big pot suspended over a fire. Right whales were the ‘right whale to hunt’ (this is how they got their name), for several reasons. They came close to shore, were slow moving, spent time at the surface and, because of the density of their blubber, floated when dead, allowing for easy transportation back to shore. Most importantly, their bodies yielded huge quantities of oil.

In the 1400′s Europeans started hunting right whales and bowheads further afield in North American waters. “During the 1500′s and 1600′s, the age of exploration and exploitation of the high seas, oil very quickly became part of European life.” Even by the 1600′s, right whale numbers had plummeted. Whalers started to additionally hunt humpbacks and sperm whales, but the price for a right whale was exorbitantly high. “One right whale catch could pay for the majority of a whaler’s costs for the entire year, so this incentive only served to accelerate their decline.” Whaling expanded from the North Atlantic into the North Pacific and then the Southern Oceans.

By the 17-1800′s oil was used in England for lighting, (oil lamps in the home, street lighting, lighthouses), and as the industrial revolution took off oil was needed to lubricate machine parts and allow longer working days in the darkened winters. “It is an interesting question to ask how differently the industrial revolution would have developed were it not for oil. That explosion of technology got us hooked on the stuff!”

By the late 1800′s the Norwegians had developed the exploding harpoon head and methods of transporting ‘sinking’ whales back to shore. This, combined with steamships, gave birth to modern whaling which was bad news for many species of whale, but took the pressure off right whales to some degree. Whale oil was by now being replaced by petroleum. “But when the industrial world stopped exploiting whales, the fashion world soon took over. The wonderful, flexible properties of baleen were discovered!” This material was used for women’s corsets, hoop skirts, parasols, springs in furniture, suitcases and horse drawn carriages.

In 1935 a decision was made to protect all right whales, no doubt helped by the fact that they were no longer commercially valuable. At this time it was believed the North Atlantic population numbered about 50 individuals, with about 400 in the North Pacific and more in the Southern Oceans. In 1937 the protection took effect and this multi-country agreement was a precursor for today’s International Whaling Commission. Illegal whaling still continued unfortunately, for example the North Pacific population fell to about 30 individuals due to illegal whaling by USSR.

It is possible that places such as the Bay of Fundy helped the North Atlantic species survive the whaling years. The bay, with its colossal tides and dense fog, never had a history of whaling and no sightings were made there before Dr. Gaskin’s work in the 1970′s. It may well be that whales who spent more time in remote areas such as the Bay of Fundy lived long enough to breed, thereby keeping their entire species alive.

In the 1970′s individual right whales began to be identified by researchers by documenting the unique patterns of callosities each whale has on its head. During the 1980′s their numbers grew from about 200 to 300. In the 90′s they suffered a decline, probably due to a lack of food and increased accidental mortality. The calving interval during this period increased from three to six years, which usually happens if a female has not recovered enough weight after giving birth. “2001 was a baby boom year with 32 calves being born!” From 2001-2011 an average of 22 calves have been born each year. And that brings us to today with an estimated North Atlantic right whale population of 450-500.

But what of the future for right whales, where does their story go from here?

“This is still unknown. We do not know if the North Atlantic right whale has sufficient genetic variation to survive in the long term, let alone the North Pacific species. The Southern right whales have recovered more rapidly. But all right whales face continued threats from other human activities such as ship collisions, entanglement, pollution, climate change and loss of food and habitat. We may be able to control shipping and fishing to some degree, but with the larger and longer term global problems of pollution and climate change, we have no idea what impacts will be felt in the future…”

In another hundred years time, I wonder what the history books and computer applications will say about right whales…

My next post on Laurie will, sadly, be the last. It will feature Laurie’s thoughts on our own species’ capacity for acting in a way which inadvertently has disastrous consequences, and her hopes for how we may become better stewards of this blue planet, which we call home.

Laurie Murison – a life of juggling

Posted on July 22, 2011 by Amanda Banks

Laurie describes herself as an “Intensely private person”. Much of her life is lived in the public domain, as the public face of GMWSRS and the ‘go to’ person who is constantly in demand. This in itself requires a juggling act of sorts, balancing her private life with her very public one.

Laurie teaching at a teenagers' holiday camp

Describing Laurie in a few words is incredibly difficult, she is a complex creature whose depths are mostly hidden from view. Some aspects of her character which are evident on the surface are her calmness, curiosity, passion, humour, (she has a sharp wit), intelligence, creativity, problem solving and mediating skills, and non-complaining attitude. She always wants to learn, desiring to know why something does or does not work, and she always wants to give of herself. Laurie veers towards optimism rather than pessimism and would rather treat life with lightness than heaviness. She is “Happy to be moderate in my emotions. Intense emotions are draining, I would not have the energy to hate or even to be ecstatically happy”. Laurie is a woman of the calm, centred, middle ground in many respects.

An important aspect of her character is her tolerance. Laurie describes this as something which “I try to carry throughout my life. Even if I do not like someone I remind myself that there must be something good about them. Tolerance is difficult, but nature can help us learn it. For example, in nature, homosexuality is very common, it is no big deal. Some humans turn it into a big deal. There is no need to do so, it is natural in itself”. This attitude is essential for her work as a conservationist, enabling her to juggle the conflicting needs of nature and people to reach the best compromise possible.

Laurie and M.Phil student Ashley Heinze conducting research

Another highly important aspect of her character is her attitude towards living a life of giving. This comes from a “Family tradition. My grandmother had to bring up her siblings from the age of 13, and then her own children and her brother’s, my mum brought my brother and I up as a single mother who also had to work. I brought myself up in some respects and was expected to solve problems from a young age. Living a life which involves so much voluntary activity, a charitable life, is just a way of life for me. It is something I accept and do without really thinking about it”. To Laurie, the way other people live their lives is strange. She cannot imagine a “9-5, five days a week, working for someone else” kind of a life. It would not suit her; she is too used to working under her own volition for the benefit of those around her. “Most people seem to think in terms of how much they are worth; for example, how much they should earn to carry out a certain job. Not so many people think in terms of how much they can give of themselves.” I remember Bob Bowman describing Laurie as a woman who is “Dedicated to being in service to the community”, I can now fully appreciate the reality of this.

In her seven day week during the summertime, a typical day for Laurie may go along the lines of:

8am = administration for three organisations (GMWSRS, Swallowtail Keepers Society / SKS, and unofficially Grand Manan’s Tourism Association), catching up on unfinished business from the previous day
9am = attending the research station to oversee the museum and gift shop
9.30 – 11am = emails (answering questions from tourists, whale watchers, researchers, consulting companies, fisherman…), banking, checking on any needs of researchers at the station, general DIY
11am – 4.30pm = marine biologist aboard Whales’n'Sails whale watch boat, educating tourists while collecting whale photo-ID’s and data
4.30 – 7pm = gift shop accounting, responding to messages and more emails, checking weather updates, downloading data and photos, ID’ing individual whales and studying their interactions and behaviours, more DIY
7.30 – 9.30pm = giving a lecture to local or visiting groups
After 9.30pm = completing data, writing articles, blog posts and newsletters
12pm = go to bed!

This pattern has some variations, such as delivering morning lectures to a holiday camp for teenagers, doing two or sometimes three whale watch trips, or responding to an immediate crisis such as a porpoise trapped in a weir or a dead animal on a beach, but her first priority is always the whales. The only time Laurie would not be aboard the whale watch boat (apart from in bad weather) would be to attend North Atlantic right whale meetings which fortunately seldom occur in the summer.

Laurie delivering a lecture at GMWSRS's museum

When people ask her “When do you eat your dinner?” she often replies with a laugh, “Oh, next Friday evening!” – the only guaranteed meal because she “Works for my dinner!” at a local inn on lobster night. Laurie usually grazes her way through the day rather than sitting down to eat. She and her husband Ken talk to each other “Once in a while”, and she also checks in on her mum and attends to her needs. The one character able to demand Laurie’s attention enough to take her away from her work is Gandalf. Gandalf is Laurie and Ken’s cat. He is an unusual cat who enjoys going on walkabout, and at least once a day he likes to go walkabout with Laurie. At some point every evening he will give Laurie the look of “We haven’t been for our walk yet!” and Laurie has to leave her work to accompany him on a stroll down to the beach and back.

GMWSRS's gift shop staffed by local student Jesse Gagne

During the winter, when the whale watch boat is not operating, Laurie’s schedule relaxes somewhat but still includes a seven day week. Winter allows time for her to catch up on all the tasks that may have remained at the bottom of her ‘to do’ list all summer, such as ongoing administration and management for GMWSRS, SKS and the Tourism Association. During winter Laurie writes funding proposals, restocks the museum and gift shop, attends meetings and conferences, reads scientific reports, scrutinises her own data, organises and sends ID photographs to various research institutes, updates the GMWSRS website, updates the North Atlantic Right Whale Adoption Program, provides maps and updates a small booklet for the Tourism Association, prepares for the following summer and carries out general maintenance. Winters allow her to talk to Ken more frequently, try to finish renovation projects on their own home without starting new ones, and, occasionally, take a day off. Juggling finances is, of course, an important and challenging ongoing task for the Research Station and Laurie has to manage all donations and create promotional material for GMWSRS.

As if Laurie’s life was not full enough, in recent years she has also taken on a community project to fill any spare minutes in her day. In 2008, the keepers buildings owned by the village of Grand Manan at Swallowtail lighthouse on Grand Manan Island had been empty for four years. Laurie, and other members of the community, formed a charitable organisation to create a new future for it. Swallowtail Keepers Society now manages the out-buildings, and hopefully, next year the lighthouse itself. Their long term aim is to host artists and musicians to run workshops, house historic information for tourists and generally be an asset to the local community. In the medium term they are looking for a summer live-in keeper, to manage the renovations and talk to tourists. But until then Laurie and Ken oversee the majority of the work taking place, from writing funding proposals and arranging fundraising events, to organising volunteer work parties, to managing students employed on renovation work, to picking up a power drill and renovating it themselves!

There are a few things Laurie would like to have the time to do in life such as gardening, enjoying calm, peaceful times with friends and having an outlet for her artistic streak. She loves music as it “Stimulates different parts of the brain” but has not played the piano or clarinet for years. However, overall Laurie “Enjoys most of what I do, otherwise I would not go through the pain of so much juggling! I am good at it but it can be overwhelming at times and I have to constantly keep the bigger picture in my head as well as the 101 small pieces of it. It can be stressful but that stress is alleviated by going out on the water with the whales. They are my first love. I also particularly enjoy the educational work as this gives me the chance to talk about what I love!”

Laurie’s passionate life of giving encompasses both the animal and human worlds. But it is her love and knowledge of the North Atlantic right whale which really intrigues me. I want to know more about these rare cetaceans who are hanging onto existence by the merest of threads. So it is these beautiful and highly endangered creatures, through the eyes and experiences of Laurie, who will be the focus of my next post.

Laurie Murison – whale researcher turned conservationist

Posted on July 9, 2011 by Amanda Banks

In an ideal world, Laurie would be solely a researcher. She would spend her days out on the ocean studying the animals which she loves and sharing that passion with others. When Laurie is on the water, “I immediately calm down and de-stress. It is such a beautiful yet potentially hostile environment. There is always so much to learn accompanied by unexpected surprises along the way.”

But, unfortunately for us all, we are not in such an ideal world. As Laurie says, “When our population is on the increase so dramatically, how do we manage those people so that we can protect all the wonderful species around us? If I was a pessimist, I would not get out of bed in the morning, we have changed our earth so much, 90% of our megafauna is gone from our oceans…”

Over the years, the topic of our environment has waxed and waned in popularity; sometimes it is at the forefront of thinking, at other times it is forgotten. When Laurie first came to Grand Manan on the 1980′s, environmental matters were of great concern. Through working with whales, in particular the highly endangered North Atlantic right whale, Laurie has had no choice but to witness, and become involved in combating, our collective negative impacts on this planet. “When something happens to a whale you have seen many times and come to know, and when you have to handle the consequences, you start to think about it in a different way. You see the problems and you try and deal with them, while also trying to live yourself!”

On a personal level, Laurie is pro-active, she thinks about how she can be effective, about what can and can’t be done, and how she can live without impacting negatively on her environment. At an organisational level, Laurie’s work as executive director of Grand Manan Whale and Seabird Research Station (GMWSRS) has inevitably included conservation efforts. Laurie is intensely aware of the balancing act that this requires. To marry together the needs of the environment with the needs of people requires compromise. Often there are different groups involved with opposing agendas and conflicting needs, and somehow these have to meet. As Laurie says, “All sides need to understand what is going on, and then bring to the table whatever is most important. Trust is an important factor, as is a willingness to find a shared language to communicate with. The process requires a collaborative rather than dictatorial approach. From that we can hope to find a happy medium.”

The harbour porpoise release program is one such initiative which Laurie and her team created. When Dr. Gaskin began working in the Bay of Fundy very little was known about harbour porpoises, they are after all rather shy, elusive creatures. The easiest way for Dr. Gaskin to find individuals for study and tracking purposes was to collect one from a herring weir, as it was known that harbour porpoises could become trapped in weirs. At the time, the easiest way for a fisherman to deal with this situation was to shoot the porpoise to prevent it disturbing the herring and facilitating their escape. By the late 1980′s concern grew about the harbour porpoises’ population and it was acknowledged that gillnet fishing, plus to a lesser extent herring weirs, posed a significant threat to the species.

In 1991, GMWSRS developed a formalised release program which continues to this day. It involves fishermen and rescue team working together using a seine, or net, to free the porpoise without losing any of the fish. The team drops the seine into the weir to encircle the porpoise and slowly bring it to the surface. From there, the rescue diver can “Reach in and grab the animal and pull it free of the weir”. Specially light mesh seines were developed to decrease the risk of harm or death to the animal during release.

Over the years this program has become almost instinctive. Three generations of fishermen have been involved in the scheme and they are all trained so that they can, if needed, carry out the release independently. The ideal however is to have a team of between 4-5 people. This additionally allows data to be collected, provided the porpoise is calm and not under stress. The porpoise is brought on board a boat where the team can collect blood samples, monitor heart beat, take physical measurements, record sex and tag the animal. In this way individuals can be identified, and blood profiles can be used for such purposes as rehabilitation.

Each summer, on average between 20-50 animals have been trapped and subsequently released from any given individual weir, with the team dealing with as many as 2-3 releases per day. The lowest number of releases in one summer was eight and the highest has been 300. GMWSRS helps pay for any costs the fisherman incurs. Laurie recalled one particularly memorable release of a mother and calf where “Once we got them on the boat, both mum and baby wriggled themselves around so that could be close to each other”.

This program, which runs so smoothly today, was initially “A challenge to establish”. Laurie and her team had to spend time working with the fisherman and building up a relationship of trust. “You have to remember that the fisherman is going to be economically driven more than animal welfare driven. The solution has to be cost effective for him.” The harbour porpoise release program is unique and remains to this day a rare example of biologists and fishermen successfully working co-operatively together.

GMWSRS also inputs into the Canadian North Atlantic right whale recovery plan. In 1997 WWF and DFO (Department for Fisheries and Oceans) initiated this plan in response to the desperate plight of the North Atlantic right whales.

Because of federal budget cuts, NGO’s have carried out much of the work. A major achievement was the shifting of shipping lanes within the Bay of Fundy. Ship collisions are recognised as a cause of mortality amongst whales and with a species whose population in the late 90′s numbered less than 300, the death of just one whale is hugely significant. Shipping lanes had first been set in 1980, before any research had been carried out on right whales. In the 90′s it was discovered that the lanes had been set directly across a critical right whale habitat area. Work was carried out, headed by Dr. Moira Brown, to assess which areas had the greatest probability of a whale/ship encounter. As a result of this, shipping lanes were moved and narrowed. This is the first ever time that shipping lanes have been changed to accommodate the needs of a whale species.

This model has since been used elsewhere to reduce ship collisions. It is by no means perfect; whales do not follow protocols, they still have to cross shipping lanes, and if food sources shift, so will they. But it is an example of the type of compromise Laurie describes as being necessary. GMWSRS inputs this work with their cataloging of whales. Laurie’s research entails photo ID-ing individual right whales. These are sent to the New England Aquarium, which holds the catalogue for right whales. This data creates a vital ongoing picture of where the whales are, at what times of year, what distances they travel, where critical habitat and feeding areas are etc. Without this kind of information it would be impossible to assess the best place for a shipping lane. Photos of calves are also key to tracking them for the rest of their lives.

Throughout the years, a major part of Laurie’s conservation efforts have focussed on education. Convincing fishermen to free harbour porpoises requires education, working with shipping companies to change shipping lanes requires education, encouraging the general public to change their everyday habits requires education… In particular Laurie has “Got the word out about North Atlantic right whales and why they need our help”, and provides information, articles and training on codes of conduct with right whales. She has worked with fishermen, companies, the general public, whale watchers and whale watching companies. For example, in 2006 there was a high prevalence of right whales in the ferry route lane between Grand Manan and the mainland. Laurie worked with boat captains on how to spot them and how to avoid them as well as explaining why they are so vulnerable.

It is easy for a researcher to care about whales; as soon as you live each day studying an animal, you cannot help but become full of admiration for them. After all, understanding breeds love breeds action. Good education therefore requires engaging people with animals in a way that awakens their sense of inquisitive wanting-to-know-more, and to care and to act. Having just watched Laurie deliver a talk to teenagers I was struck by the quirky, intimate stories she has to tell about whales and the passionate yet grounded and straightforward style of her delivery.

This gave me an idea… I have asked her to tell me her top ten most quirky facts about whales… And these tantalising tit-bits of knowledge will become the subject of my next post about Laurie…

Stefan, Nina and Mundo Azul – today and tomorrow

Posted on June 26, 2011 by Amanda Banks

You may remember mention of Stefan’s work on the Ancon Port campaign from my ‘Mundo Azul – from then till now’ post. At the point of writing that post the outcome of the situation remained uncertain. However, a few days ago Stefan learned that the battle had been won. Nine months work on this landmark project has paid off and the bay has been declared untouchable by law. The Ancon campaign has set a precedent here in Peru; this is the first time ever that a successful campaign has been mounted against one of Peru’s wealthiest family owned business groups. Also for the first time, all stakeholders were united together. Peru society is generally extremely divided with a huge gap between upper, middle and lower classes. In the fight to protect Ancon, the wealthiest and poorest levels of the community sat in meetings together and acted as one.

“This project marks a difference. It represents a change in Peru that really matters. If the biggest family corporation can be stopped then so can anyone. This case shows that the old measures taken by these powerful organisations will not be accepted anymore. Bribery, buying people’s allegiance, threats, physical attacks, acting with no scruples… all these tactics no longer work. The country and its people cannot be bought with money. Democracy and people’s rights have to be respected.”

Stefan himself knows firsthand the unscrupulous tactics employed by these large organisations. His own life was threatened while carrying out the Ancon project, with additional veiled threats made towards his family.

Ancon represents a huge shift in focus for Mundo Azul. In the last two years Stefan has been asked three times to become involved in social conflict cases and it is likely that this aspect of the organisation’s work will continue to grow. There are currently 233 registered social conflicts ongoing in Peru, with 50% of these involving an environmental element. Communities are standing up and fighting large companies, wealthy family groups and governmental factions who attempt to take away the rights of the local people. Many of these disputes are occurring along the coast, with local communities being displaced for ports, industry and agricultural projects which are also impacting heavily on the natural environment. Stefan says, “You have to know which fights to pick. Sometimes it is the other way round. Sometimes there is an ethically good company wanting to work in harmony for the good of a local community, but factions within the community want to twist things for their own agenda. So you have to be able to discern.”

Social conflict work can be carried out with relatively small amounts of funding, but even these modest funds still have to come from somewhere. Stefan knows that this money will not come from the government, indeed the government is more likely to go against such politically uncomfortable work, and even cut off permits and sources of funding. Certainly the foreign NGO’s will not become involved. “American and European NGO’s will not get involved in anything political as this may disrupt their inflow of money from donors. They do not want to touch anything that involves government, uncovering uncomfortable truths or illegal trading. They operate with a non-conflict policy.” As far as Stefan is concerned, these policies are damaging to conservation, “They are not taking a stand for conservation, they shy away from what really needs to be done. They are not doing what we need to do to save the world. We have to come back to the 80′s when people were passionate and took a stand. We need that, especially in countries like Peru.”

For Stefan, the lack of funding from external sources to finance social conflict cases, heightens his drive to secure his own financial resources. His commercial venture with Nature Expeditions is “The way forward”.

Stefan’s hope for the future is that Nature Expeditions will run successfully and secure a good income that will support both his family and the work of Mundo Azul. With that financial security in place, he will be free to decide Mundo Azul’s agenda. His guess is that socially and politically oriented projects will eventually overtake the purely conservation oriented ones.

Stefan is proud of his achievements in the Ancon project. He senses a growing confidence in himself as a leader. “Ancon shows the power that one person can have. For a community to be united, there must be a leader to bind them together.” Stefan is starting to be looked on as a leader within the community, and this is something he wants to build on in the future. Ancon has given him a renewed determination to do what needs to be done. “Ancon is one of the greatest achievements of my life in conservation. David can take on Goliath and win!”

A part of Stefan would like a gentler life; to run Nature Expeditions and not be involved in any more struggle… But somehow, considering his makeup as a person, I do not believe, and neither does he, that this will happen. He does however certainly hope to have the option of deciding which fights to accept and which to decline.

And what of Nina? You may have noticed that she has not been very present in the last couple of posts… She has been extremely busy on a work project of her own in the last few weeks, securing an income for the family. But her hopes for the future are to be an equal partner within Mundo Azul, doing the work which she loves most, and for her family to have the freedom to spend more time together enjoying the happy and carefree moments in life.

And that is where I have to leave Nina, Stefan and Mundo Azul… At a point where they are celebrating one victory… While still facing the many challenges of everyday life as conservationists in Peru… With an uncertain and constantly changing future ahead of them…

I will leave you with Stefan’s words, “I will always be a conservationist, conservation has become me. I can never go back. I hope to get the needs of my family met, but beyond that I will continue to do what needs to be done. With passion, one person can change the world…”

Stefan Austermühle – the problem with conservation today…

Posted on June 23, 2011 by Amanda Banks

Stefan has worked within the arena of animal rights and conservation for over 25 years. During this time he has been involved in projects which have produced wonderful outcomes for conservation. However, throughout the years Stefan has also become aware of particular issues which leave him critical of some aspects of the conservation world. I asked him to tell me more about these issues and he recounted two which he feels are especially damaging.

The first concerns the attitude of conservationists and conservation organisations. Twenty five years ago, when Stefan was just starting out as a volunteer with Greenpeace, the conservation world was full of highly dedicated people. They had not necessarily studied biology at college, but had taught themselves as a result of their passion for the cause. They were “Special people, with an honest drive to save the world. They trained themselves to a specialist level and they would do whatever was necessary to achieve this because they believed in what they were doing.”

Stefan believes that this drive has been, to a large extent, lost. In today’s conservation arena, jobs are only open to people with university degrees and PhD’s. Being a conservationist is now seen as a career, rather than a passion. People enter conservation from the world of business and may then switch back again at any time, as part of their climb up the career ladder. Their primary concern is with “Climbing the ladder rather than with conservation. NGO’s are managed by lawyers not conservationists. Conservation has become business”.

With this change in the make up of personnel, comes a change of expectation and organisational structuring. When an employee of a large NGO oversees a project in a country such as Peru, he is housed in a five star hotel. The entire monthly salary of a local grass roots conservationist may be spent purely on his hotel bill. Stefan wonders, “If that is the kind of luxury and lifestyle they are used to when they travel, what on earth is their salary?”

The business world has merged with the conservation world to such an extent that it has “Perverted conservation completely”. Money is wasted on unnecessary luxuries, and the university graduates and ex-business career movers employed within large NGO’s do not have the necessary skills to implement conservation initiatives in the real world. “They do not have a clue how to work with local communities and deal with real issues such as poverty.”

This feeds into the second big problem which Stefan perceives. When conservation organisations are run as businesses with an inherent need to attract huge amounts of money to pay for their continuing expenses, the drive to make money overtakes the drive to conserve. This in turn impacts on how these large scale NGO’s interact with small grass roots organisations such as Mundo Azul.

In countries like Peru there is no state funding or grant system for conservation organisations. Additionally, there is very little money available within the country itself from other sources, such as the corporate sector or private donors. Small grass roots conservation groups often rely on funds from the large scale foreign organisations in America and Europe with a remit to fund projects in less wealthy countries.

Stefan described the process of collaborating with these large American and European NGO’s.

American organisations rely on attracting major donations from individual sources to support their work. They may pull in a huge sum from one donor which will be used to finance a project in, for example, Peru. From the total amount of money which a donor gives for a specific project in a specific country, 40-60% stays with the American organisation. This money may be spent on their overheads, salaries, hotel bills etc. The small amount of remaining money goes to the actual project and the grass roots organisations implementing the work within that country. These groups receive very little money to pay for the project, their administration costs and their wages. “We are expected to survive on air and passion, rather then receiving salaries that would provide even minimum living standards for our families.”

The huge demand placed on an American organisation to maintain its infrastructure, coupled with hefty competition from other organisations all competing for the same pockets of money, requires the NGO to “Sell sexy projects to their donors”. When the NGO wants to create a sexy project, they hold a workshop within the country where the project will take place. Local grass roots organisations with their specialist knowledge of the area’s problems and needs are invited to attend the workshop. During the two to three day workshop, the American NGO gains all of the local organisations’ knowledge. Participants of this consultation process are invited to take part with no fee offered, only “Cookies and Coca Cola”. The American NGO cherry picks which aspects of an issue are sellable to a donor and “Invents a project”. The decision making process is carried out “Without consulting the partner grass roots organisations and the final project may even go against their recommendations”. The so called partner organisations are offered the opportunity to carry out the project as hired hands, not as equal partners, on the terms set by the American NGO. The process is a “Top down, decision making process with no actual democratic partnership taking place”.

European organisations operate quite differently. They rely on much smaller donations from many members. Their strategy is to “Demonstrate to donors in regular newsletters, media and other communications that they do a lot, so that people keep giving them $50 a month”. The NGO will fund many projects around the world with very small amounts, maybe $500-2,000. A stipulation of their funding is that none of it can be used on wages or administration. A local grass roots conservationist offered the opportunity to carry out the project is then faced with the dilemma of “How do I live while I carry out this work?” In the meantime, “The European NGO can tell its donors, we are supporting 20 projects around the world! After all, 20 projects looks better on paper than one.”

In Stefan’s opinion, whether receiving funds from an American or a European NGO, a small grass roots conservation organisation is “******”. Well, I am afraid I cannot repeat his exact wording for the sake of decency. I asked Stefan what he believes to be the solution to this problem. He gave me two answers. His first was,“The only solution for us is to be self-sustainable. We have to earn our money by creating a business, such as Nature Expeditions, and in our free time pursue our conservation objectives.”

His second answer was, “The global solution would be for large scale European and American organisations to fund work in less well off countries, with a bottom up / equal decision making process, while restricting what proportion of the funds they keep for themselves. In reality, rather than them supervising us and the work which we carry out on the ground, we should have the right to supervise them and the work which they carry out as fundraisers.”

Stefan has chosen to no longer approach foreign NGO’s for funding, which is why he is happy to publicly communicate his criticisms of the conservation world. His choice is to find methods to fund Mundo Azul which allow him autonomy over his work, pay and conditions. And this strategy introduces us to what will be the final post on Mundo Azul; the organisation’s current projects and Stefan’s hopes for the future.

Mundo Azul has recently achieved a landmark victory working on a social project in Peru, campaigning against the development of Ancon Port. And it is social conflict projects such as Ancon, plus the operations of Nature Expeditions, which Stefan hopes will create a good future for himself, Nina, their family and Mundo Azul. So do not miss my final post on Mundo Azul which will document this modern day tale of David against Goliath.

Amanda Banks

writer | dancer | teacher

Tag Archives: marine

The trials and tribulations of killer whale research – part 3

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A nearly Christmas request…

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Laurie Murison – a life of juggling

Laurie Murison – whale researcher turned conservationist

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Stefan Austermühle – the problem with conservation today…

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Being an object of sport for fast paced dolphins, while simultaneously navigating round humpback whales, testing an underwater camera and preventing an excited dog from falling overboard

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