making a killing off captivity

Making a Killing off Captivity

Marine Parks: Making a Killing off Captivity

The popular SeaWorld orca performance “Dine with Shamu” began as it did every other

day on February 24th, 2010. Tilikum, a six-ton killer whale, starred in the show, offering crowd-

awing splashes and leaps to a captive audience in “Shamu Stadium.” The show ended to a usual

bout of applause and cheers, until “Tilly” grabbed his trainer, Dawn Brancheau, by her ponytail

and dragged the woman into his tank. Horrified onlookers watched as the whale dragged

Brancheau into his pool and thrashed her underwater, ultimately drowning her (“SeaWorld” 1).

This incident was a tragedy for Dawn, her family, and the onlookers who witnessed the

shocking death of one of SeaWorld’s most experienced trainers. It also begs the question: what

could have prompted this sudden violent outburst from Tilikum, a whale who has been in

captivity for almost thirty years? Experts and SeaWorld staff have speculated that Brancheau’s

ponytail bothered the whale, or that Tilikum was trying to play with his trainer. However, a

more prevalent viewpoint is that the stress of being captive and made to perform daily had

elicited a frustrated retaliation against his trainer (Pilkington 1). There is evidence from the past

experiences of marine parks that the practice of keeping killer whales in captivity has often

ended poorly. While many proponents of aquaria contend that the parks are humane and

educational, patterns in the history of captive orcas and current studies tell a different story. It

has been documented that captivity can have major impacts on these animals, including

atypical illnesses, erratic behavior, deformities, neurotic problems, and early death. It is time to

acknowledge that keeping killer whales in aquatic parks is cruel and counterproductive to the

goals of wildlife appreciation and conservation.

The reasons behind the detrimental effects of captivity become clear when the natural

biology of the killer whale, Orcinus orca, is examined. In the wild, these animals typically

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travel up to one hundred nautical miles every day (Landeau 5) and can have a lifespan as long

as sixty to eighty years depending on gender and other factors. Orcas can reach average sizes of

twenty-two feet long and weigh 1.3 to 3.6 tons, and their size and power has made them

powerful apex predators in their diverse natural habitats (Williams 11-13). The ferocity with

which orcas hunt has well earned them their “killer whale” and “wolves of the sea” nicknames.

Orcas prey on various species, including sharks, sea lions, other whales, squid, and large fish.

However, there has never been a recorded attack on a human by a wild orca (Landeau 1).

Also notable in orcas is their formation of sophisticated social groups with strong familial

bonds (Morton 3). Each pod, or group of whales, is composed of ten to twenty individuals that

are related by matriarchal lines. A typical pod might consist of a few closely related females

such as mothers, sisters, and daughters as well as these females’ offspring. These individuals

remain with each other their entire lives, and males only leave in order to mate with females

from other pods. Mothers are the main caretakers of their offspring, but fathers will remain

with their own matriarchal pod, helping to care for the young within this maternal line. The

familial bonds within orca pods are very strong and only can be broken through death or

capture of a member (Williams 9).

The unique characteristics among the various orca groups give insight into the complexity

of the species’ powers of language and cognition. Studies have shown that each pod has its own

distinctive dialect or accent, and can recognize members of the same pod through this dialect.

Dialects are extremely rare in the animal kingdom, and orcas are one of the few animals besides

humans to have such distinctive language and shared speech patterns among individuals living

in the same area (Williams 11). The patterns of behavior and vocalizations that have been

observed in orcas and other cetaceans are increasingly seen as evidence for culture. A study

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published in the journal of Behavioral and Brain Science states that “culturally transmitted

behavioral patterns,” such as vocalizations and hunting methods, have been observed to be

learned from and taught to other whales. The extents of these complex behaviors among killer

whales, which have no genetic or ecological causation, appear to have no parallel outside of

humans (Rendell and Whitehead 309). This means that while many animal species’ behaviors

are largely instinctual, killer whales have high cognitive ability, comparable to that of higher

primates including humans. While the depth of killer whale life has yet to be fully examined,

the current information on their species shows clearly that they are powerful predators, long-

distance swimmers, highly invested in social and familial bonds, and capable of advanced

cognitive interactions with their environment and others around them. Comparing these

elements of the life of a wild orca to those of a captive orca reveals the staggering

consequences of captivity.

First, it would be extremely expensive and difficult, if not impossible, for marine parks to

replicate the natural environment of a killer whale. This being so, captive orcas are usually

contained in circular tanks, which far from provide the space of hundreds of miles that orcas

are capable of traversing daily. These tanks are, according to Jeffrey Ventre, a former

SeaWorld trainer, "what is essentially an acoustically dead cement pond, compared to the

vibrancy of the ocean." Ventre also remarks that though “the SeaWorld system is the best of all

seaquaria in the world, if I was [sic] an orca, that would be the last place I'd want to live” (qtd.

in Landeau 1). This is a powerful statement coming from a person who has worked extensively

at SeaWorld and with its animals, showing that even in the best conditions, it is evident that an

aquarium is not a suitable place for a killer whale.

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Having inadequate space often causes physical, behavioral, and neurological

abnormalities in captive orcas. Drooped or “flopped” dorsal fins are a common phenomenon

exclusively among captive orcas. Collapsed dorsal fins in wild individuals are usually a result

of a serious injury to the fin, such as from being shot or colliding with a vessel. Most scientists

attribute the collapsing to the fact that captive orcas have “inadequate space in which to swim,

cannot travel in a straight line and so are reduced to swimming in small circles” (Williams 52).

Additionally, captivity can cause erratic behaviors that lead to the orca self-inducing physical

damage. In Listening to Whales, Alexandra Morton discusses her observations of a young killer

whale named “Miracle.” Morton writes that the whale “exhibited extremely strange behavior”

after every show, “rushing over to a particular spot and banging her head against the underside

of the dock. She did it so often that her melon [an organ in whales’ foreheads used for

echolocation] had become badly bruised and spongy” (144). It is not surprising that unusual

behaviors have been observed in captive orcas, considering the glaring absence of healthy

stimuli that are present in natural settings. Some researchers have called the behaviors of

captive whales “neurotic,” and state that being separated from their families and made to swim

in circles continuously "takes a toll on their brains" (Landeau 1).

An even more torturous condition for these highly social and intelligent animals is to be

kept in solitary confinement. When orcas purchased by an aquarium cannot adapt to captivity

or do not get along with “pool mates,” they are sometimes relegated to a “back pen” until they

can be resold. This was the case for a killer whale named “Junior,” during his time at the

aquarium MarineLand. Junior spent four years of his life in “an indoor pool deprived of natural

light and the company of other orcas; forced to endure the constant noise of overhead fans”

(Williams 36). He finally died at the age of thirteen, reportedly lethargic and psychotic.

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Numerous other orcas have been “stored” in MarineLand’s warehouse pools (which are twenty-

five feet in diameter and twelve feet deep), including “Kanuck,” who was separated from his

mother at ten months and “stored” for two years, as well as “Nova,” “Neocia,” and “Malik.”

(Williams 60). Kanuck has not been seen since 1998 and is presumed dead. Malik died in 2000,

at the age of four, from immune system failure and liver infection. These living animals are not

objects suited to be “stored” in MarineLand’s cruel warehouse. The high intelligence and

sociability of killer whales makes this extensively sensory-deprived experience little more than

blatant cruelty resulting in severe physical and psychological trauma.

Moreover, as seen with the early deaths of the aforementioned warehoused whales at

MarineLand, captivity has an overwhelmingly negative impact of the lifespan of killer whales.

Over 134 orcas have been taken into captivity from the wild since 1961. At least 106 (79%) are

now dead (Williams 4). At a recent Senate hearing on marine mammals in captivity, Dr. John

Grandy of the U.S. Humane Society testified on behalf of the Marine Mammal Protection

Coalition. Grandy described a recent study that showed how the mortality rate of captive killer

whales was more than 2.5 times greater than it was for a well-documented wild population

(VanValkenburg and Taksel 22). A 2004 study of marine parks analyzed over thirty years of

records on all captive marine mammals, and revealed that 25% of marine mammals that died in

captivity never reached age one, and 50% were dead by age seven. Even more shocking, one in

five of these deaths were a result of avoidable or preventable causes. These causes included

chlorine poisoning, heat stress, bad fish, capture shock, and stress during transit (Kestin 15).

Had the welfare of these captive animals truly been considered, these preventable and recurring

issues would have been solved and eliminated.

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Another instance of early death by a recurring cause is the tragic case of the multiple

failed pregnancies of “Corky,” who is one of the longest surviving orcas in captivity at forty-

three years of age. Throughout her life, Corky has been pregnant six times, with each time

ending in the early death of the calf. Corky gave birth to her first calf in 1977, much to the

surprise of her trainers who were unaware of her pregnancy. The calf was the first live orca to

be born in captivity, and lived for only sixteen days after failing to nurse from Corky

(“Corky’s” 1). Soon, Corky became pregnant again in 1978. When the second orca was born, it

immediately faced the same problem that occurred with Corky’s previous calf and did not

begin to nurse. In the wild, killer whales are constantly swimming in relatively straight paths

through the open ocean, and calves must find their mother’s mammaries while both are

swimming. Mother orcas guide their calf to the white patch beneath their tail soon after birth,

and the calf instinctually fixates on this white area. However, in captivity at MarineLand,

Corky and her calf were in a circular tank, and “[b]ecause Corky constantly had to use her head

to push the baby away from the circular tank edge, the baby had fixated on the wrong white

spot— the one behind her eye instead of the one beneath her tail” (Morton 51). Two days after

the second baby orca was born, MarineLand staff decided to tube feed the baby before it

starved to death, even though “no one knew how to mix whale formula, but they made a guess”

(Morton 48). Five days later, MarineLand removed the thin-looking calf from the tank with

Corky so they could tube feed it more easily. Soon after this, the calf died, underweight and

suffering with pneumonia and colitis from a bacterial contamination of the tube-fed formula

(“Corky’s” 2). Corky’s next four pregnancies ended similarly, with the calf starving to death, or

in stillbirth.

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Trainers tried to prepare Corky for nursing her fourth calf by teaching her to roll onto

her side and present her mammaries to a model baby orca. However, the fourth calf, which

lived forty-six days and was called “Kiva,” still failed to nurse from her mother and died. By

the late 1980’s, Corky had been continuously pregnant for almost ten years and, at the young

age of twenty-one, she stopped ovulating. It is impossible to ignore the lack of insight and care

which led to the repetitive early deaths of six killer whale calves. Even with attempts at

remedying this problem, trainers failed to prevent these deaths, indicating that perhaps even

with responsible care, the complexity of killer whale behavior and the challenges they face in

captivity are impossible to understand.

Despite the numerous deaths over the years in aquaria such as MarineLand and

SeaWorld, there are still strident advocates of the benefits of aquaria. The Zoo and Aquarium

Association states that, “Zoos [and] aquariums can operate across the whole spectrum of

conservation activities, from breeding of threatened species, research, public education… They

uniquely have a massive ‘captive audience’ of visitors whose knowledge, understanding,

attitude, behaviour and involvement can all be positively influenced and harnessed” (“The

Role” 1). For many people, visiting an aquarium is the only chance they have to see live sea

animals, and education about the ecology and protection of wild animals is vital to the efforts to

conserve these species in the wild. Certain studies indicate that zoo and aquarium educational

programs can be effective in building “public appreciation and understanding of wildlife and

wildlife conservation issues” (Hutchins, Smith, and Allard 962). However, while the stance of

educating the masses on conservation issues and perpetuating appreciation for wildlife is noble,

the reality is that marine parks achieve neither. In fact, they may even do the reverse.

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SeaWorld in particular has been known not only to omit educational information from

their parks and shows, but also to deliberately misinform their audiences. Guests commenting

on the drooping dorsal fins of the killer whales are told that “height, weight and genetics all

play a part in the straightness or droopiness of a killer whale's dorsal fin.” Visitors are led to

believe that, as brochures and hosts tell them, “bent fins are 'inherited from their mothers and

fathers, like eye colour’” (Williams 52). Additionally, when parks do make an effort to educate,

they are informing the public only about captive behaviors, which are in most cases vastly

different from natural ones. For example, wild dolphins and whales spend little time motionless

and are underwater 90% of the time, yet in captivity the animals can frequently be seen floating

immobile at the water’s surface (Rose 31).

The argument that aquaria increase appreciation for wildlife is also dampened by the way

in which many parks portray the animals. In Listening to Whales, Morton writes how she

observed kids “taunting the whales, and pitching popcorn into their blowholes. They called the

whales stupid when they didn’t move, and argued over whether the whales were real.” Morton

comments how the opinion of the orca had been shifted from an awe-inducing and fierce ocean

predator to a “Disney-fied, tongue-wagging performer,” considered tame enough for petting

(56). All that these children she observed were learning was that capturing, harming, and

ridiculing an animal for entertainment was a human right. The shows in which killer whales

frequently perform also work to portray the creatures as little more than fun-loving and tame

spectacles, lulling visitors into a false sense of security. SeaWorld, “far from instilling respect

for the animals,” works to perpetuate this carefree attitude (Williams 68). This lackadaisical

perspective toward keeping large predators captive results in both the public and often trainers

ignoring the complex, dangerous and powerful potential of these animals.

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For instance, the confined areas of a tank enclosure tend to generate increased stress in

orcas as they attempt to assert dominance and establish a healthy social hierarchy. In the wild,

aggression is rarely seen, but at SeaWorld and other parks, increasing trends of violence of

orcas towards both trainers and other whales has been documented (Williams 42). A

particularly gruesome case was that of “Kandu V,” a dominant female orca at SeaWorld who

had been frequently harassing another female orca in her tank for over three years. SeaWorld

trainers ignored these social dynamic behaviors and the whales remained housed together.

Then, in 1989, Kandu broke her jaw and ruptured several arteries when she rammed into the

other female during a performance. As Kandu hemorrhaged into the tank and spouted blood

from her blowhole onto the stage, SeaWorld staff ushered a shocked audience out of the

stadium and mopped up the orca’s blood. Kandu died from blood loss forty-five minutes later

(Williams 43). Particularly tragic is that most witness accounts describe the frantic efforts of

SeaWorld not to aid the mortally wounded animal, but to protect their own image.

While there is little valid support for the supposed benefits of aquaria overall, the

argument for the importance of research does have some legitimate applications. Information

from studying captive animals can help conservation efforts for wild populations. For example,

hormone measurements were taken from pregnant killer whales in captivity at the Vancouver

Aquarium’s Marine Science Center, and it was discovered that the species’ gestation period

was much longer than it had been estimated from previous field observations. With this

information, the International Whaling Commission reduced Norway’s whale quota by 52

animals per year (“Why Have Whales” 2). With the increasing impact of humans on the natural

environment, information like this could be critical to helping wild populations.

The Vancouver Aquarium is unique in that it is one of the few aquaria that deviate from

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the overwhelmingly negative norms of aquatic parks. It is one of only four marine parks in the

world to use natural seawater in its tank enclosures; all others use a manufactured synthetic

seawater mix (Williams 33). The existing cetacean pools at Vancouver Aquarium were recently

renovated to eliminate parallel surfaces, reduce noise transmission, and improve acoustics

within the water. When one of the park’s orcas “Bjossa” was left solitary by the death of her

companion in 2001, she was transferred to another park, despite her twenty year long status as a

major crowd draw in the aquarium. Vancouver Aquarium has since vowed to end their display

of killer whales and has shifted its focus to educational efforts rather than the spectacle of

shows. Currently dolphins, belugas, and sea lions are the aquarium’s only large mammals, and

many of these animals were rescued and are unable to be released due to injuries (Villano 1).

The aquarium is notable in its conservation efforts, which include a program promoting

sustainable seafood, a shoreline cleanup volunteer program, and the Marine Mammal Rescue

and Rehabilitation Program. The Rehabilitation program has had a role in aiding a number of

animals, including the 2002 rescue of an orphaned baby orca nicknamed “Springer,” who was

successfully reunited with her pod and has been observed with them as recently as 2007

(“Aquarium Celebrates” 1). These programs aimed towards conservation and education, which

are possible despite Vancouver Aquarium’s status as a non-profit organization, are incredibly

beneficial to not just wild orcas, but to the ocean environment as a whole. The aquarium

manages to be one of the most advanced centers for marine mammal research, rehabilitation,

and education, without even holding a killer whale captive.

These goals of increased conservation and public education on killer whales and other

marine mammals should be common among the public and those overseeing the marine parks

holding these animals. The issue of keeping orcas in captivity has become more controversial

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over recent years and thus improvements have been made; however, the changes that have

occurred need to be taken further. As long as big-name aquatic parks continue to perpetuate

their image as positive places for animals, people will continue to unknowingly support their

cruel industry. Aquaria are popular because of the draw that exotic creatures have to the public,

who largely get little chance to see wild animals outside of captivity. It needs to be

acknowledged though, that the petty pleasure of watching intelligent and powerful animals

perform parlor tricks and swim in containment is not just inhumane, it also negatively impacts

efforts to increase appreciation and support of conservation issues. By inaccurately portraying

wild animals, marine parks are breeding apathy towards the plight of captive whales’ wild

counterparts and ignorance of these animals’ truly phenomenal natural behaviors and ways of

life. Far from teaching appreciation, aquariums maintain the underlying proclamation that

humans can overpower and control killer whales for entertainment under the guise of this false

education and indoctrination. The institutions responsible for keeping orcas captive have

consistently failed at providing adequate conditions to maintain the animals’ wellbeing and

ultimately, it is a disservice to both orcas and to our own humanity to continue to view the

keeping of killer whales in captivity as acceptable. While a trip to SeaWorld or any other

marine park may have once been seen as a benign day of entertainment, it must now be

recognized for what it truly is: the support of an industry built upon the abuse, exploitation, and

ridicule of intelligent and sentient beings.

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Works Cited

“Aquarium Celebrates Springer’s 5th Anniversary Homecoming Reunion.” Vanaqua.org.

Vancouver Aquarium, 16 July 2007. Web. 25 April 2010.

“Conservation.” Vancouver Aquarium. Vanaqua.org, n.d. Web. 25 April 2010.

“Corky’s Babies.” Orcalab.org. OrcaLab, 2001. Web. 16 April 2010.

Hutchins, Michael; Smith, Brandie; Allard, Ruth. “In Defense of Zoos and Aquariums.”

Journal of the American Veterinary Medical Association. 233.7 (2003): 958- 966. Print.

Kestin, Sally. “Marine Deaths.” The IRE Journal 27.6 (2004): 14-17. Print.

Landeau, Elizabeth. “Biologists: Killer Whales ‘neurotic’ in captivity.” Cnn.com. CNN,

25 Feb. 2010. Web. 10 March 2010.

Morton, Alexandra. Listening to Whales: What the Orcas Have Taught Us. New York:

Ballantine Books, 2002. Print.

Pilkington, Ed. “Killer Whale Tilikum to be spared after drowning trainer by ponytail.”

Guardian.co.uk. Guardian.co.uk, 25 Feb 2010. Web. 27 April 2010.

Rendell, Luke, and Hal Whitehead. "Culture in whales and dolphins." Behavioral and Brain

Sciences 24.2 (2001): 309. Academic OneFile. Web. 16 Apr. 2010.

“The role of zoos and aquariums.” The Zoo and Aquarium Association. Arazpa.org.au.

2006. Web. 9 March 2010.

Rose, Naomi. “Marine Mammals in Captivity.” The Animals’ Agenda. 16.3 (1996):

31-32. Print.

“SeaWorld to Keep Orca.” MSNBC.msn.com. MSNBC, 25 Feb 2010. Web. 15 March 2010.

“Why Have Whales in Aquariums?” Vanaqua.org. Vancouver Aquarium Marine Science

Centre, n.d. Web. 9 March 2010.

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VanValkenburg, Scott, and Rebecca Taksel. “Free Willy…free them all.” The Animals’

Agenda. Vol 14, No. 1, 1994, pp. 20.

Villano, Matt. “Vancouver Aquarium to give up killer whales.” Suite101.com. Suite101, 28

April 2000. Web. 27 April 2010.

Williams, Vanessa. “Captive Orcas: ‘Dying to Entertain You’” A Report for Whale and

Dolphin Conservation Society. Brookfield House. 30 April 2001. PDF File.

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making a killing off captivity

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