materialized.
To begin to understand the challenges facing Keiko and the team of people charged
with his reintroduction, any comparison to Hollywood’s version of
Free Willy
must be cast aside. Releasing an animal, any animal that has spent considerable time
in the care of man, is a complex process to say the least. In the case of Keiko, it
was analogous to putting the first man on the moon. If a candidate for release were
imagined, many experts agreed, it would not be Keiko. An adult male killer whale,
dependent on social acceptance for his survival, was the least likely to be accepted
by his wild counterparts. Chances were other males would view him as a competitor.
But this aspect was only the tip of the iceberg challenging Keiko’s survival. After
nearly twenty years in the care of man, much greater threats lurked undetected in
Keiko’s chances of survival.
1
Getting the Call
June 15, 2000–1921 hours
Communication between tracking helicopter (call-sign
Zero-Nine-Zulu
) and the
Draupnir
, Keiko’s walk-boat:
Zero-Nine-Zulu:
“Contact. We have positive sighting … advise heading east-northeast, repeatedly circling
then continuing course. Be advised fuel is short … heading back to base.”
“Copy that,
Zero-Nine-Zulu
, we are closing on your location at twenty-six knots. Tracking equipment onboard.
Draupnir
out.”
Moments later, onboard
Draupnir
via ship-to-shore phone message:
Draupnir
: “Hello?”
From base: “Hi, Robin, it’s Charles … I have Jeff and Lanny here.”
“Okay,” Robin replied, adding under his breath, “This should be interesting.”
Lanny spoke first: “What are you guys doing?”
“We’re going to get this whale back …”
“Why?” Lanny challenged. In a tone of complete condescension, he stepped up the attack,
“That’s against the protocols that we set in place—just because he didn’t go with
those whales doesn’t mean he won’t eventually go with other whales. He may be heading
home, and you guys are calling him back. You talk about going against the protocols;
our protocols were always that if he decided to go off on his own to let him go!”
Knowing all too well the conflict of interest behind Lanny’s motivation, Robin could
scarcely contain his anger. He muttered,“The bastard just wants his success fee.” In the midst of this desperate mess, Robin
had no patience for Lanny’s outburst and made no attempt to conceal it.
“Lanny, you’re wrong! That was never the protocol! From day one, in our first meeting
at the hostel, we all agreed successful reintroduction would be only in the case of
his successful integration with other killer whales. Right now he’s alone, he’s traumatized,
confused, and he doesn’t know where he’s going!”
Unwilling to back down, Lanny pressed, “But we said we would not immediately intervene—that
we would allow time to observe his disposition and then make a decision whether to
recall him to the boat.”
“We are already approaching fifteen miles from the island,” Robin snapped back. “If
we allow him to go any further away, we will be too far from our base of operations
to be able to monitor his disposition and/or intervene should that become necessary.
In my opinion, the bottom line is that he is not successfully integrated … that the
initial introduction was a fiasco and Keiko is simply running scared! My intention
at this point is to find him—make an observation—recall him—and bring him back to
Vestmannaeyjar. If the final decision is to allow him to go off on his own then that
decision can be made after we bring him back—and that would be a decision that you
gentlemen would have to make on your own … without me.”
Charles interjected before Lanny could respond. In a calm reassuring voice he took
the reins: “Robin, we have talked to members of the board … advised them of the situation.
They want us to make the decision of