A little embarrassed being a human being

Tuesday, December 5, 2006

Dear Sir:

Recently in international news the story appeared of a killer whale at
SeaWorld in San Diego, California, which attacked its trainer.

This story is of my experience with orcas, which I prefer to call them
because that is their real name.

I was out sailing in my dinghy one time in Malaspina Straight in British Columbia. It was a nice day and there was a good breeze. Maybe too good a breeze! Anyway, I was just goofing around and seeing how fast I could go - up one wave and down the next.

It became a little too rough so I began to sail down wind. I was sailing along and looked back to see where the next wave was coming from. And a fin appeared about two hundred yards behind. It was an orca.

I thought to myself this is it. Not much to do at that point except keep sailing. The orca eventually swam up to within twenty feet of me and my dinghy. I could see its eye looking at me every time it surfaced.

I looked around but there weren't any other boats out because it had gotten really rough. We went along like that with me not knowing what to expect. The orca would swim up close and check me out.

Then it would swim in front of the dinghy. All this time I knew with one swipe it could take me out.

Another orca appeared. Now I was between two of them.

They swam on both sides of the dinghy for over an hour, until I reached the entrance to the harbour about three miles downwind.

I had to turn fast because the waves were quite big and then made a beeline for the harbour.

They followed me right to the entrance. I sailed in past the breakwater where it was calm and turned around to look. One of them broached and cleared the water.

Something happened to me that day. I felt totally awestruck (and at times terrified) by the enormous beauty of these creatures. They meant me no harm. In fact I think they were acting as my lifeguards.

Whenever pods of orcas would go by heading north to their feeding grounds the whole town would go down to the water to watch. You can't help but feel an affinity with them and it puts you in your place as a human and fellow creature.

I have watched mother orcas teaching their children how to fish. Several females will herd the young ones together and the males will drive a group of seals towards them. They have family units and if a female is injured (or sometimes captured for the entertainment of popcorn-munching spectators) others will take care of its baby.

How can they do this to such wonderful and intelligent creatures? How can they keep an orca weighing five thousand pounds and seventeen feet long in a tank thirty-six feet deep for thirty years? This is not an attraction it is an obscenity.

The orca did not attack its trainer. It held the trainer by the foot underwater for less than a minute to let him know that if it wasn't for its compassion and intelligence he could be dead.

The orca was training the trainer. Sometimes I get a little embarrassed being a human.

A. Creasey

Source: Cayman Net News - original article here