Orca Guardians Blog

14 Sep 2020

by Shilpa Shah

I am recently back from my annual trip to Iceland, volunteering with Orca Guardians. It took nine days of boat trips with not a single sighting of orcas before I got to see my favourite cetaceans. One of the first families we spotted was Aurora and her offspring, including young Niniti. It was a surprise to see them in the summer, as they usually visit much earlier in the year! It was a calm bright day, the kind where the sky melts effortlessly into the horizon. The sun was glinting off the lapping waves and the orcas were mostly resting, moving slowly and coming up to breathe one by one in a regular pattern.
I had just finished writing and recording a children’s story featuring Niniti, a story of courage and overcoming fear… to see Niniti and family unexpectedly was absolutely magical. At one point I got to see Niniti turn sideways and swim alongside the boat and it brought tears to my eyes.
Here is the story – enjoy!

Where the story came from:
The coronavirus pandemic seems to have largely spared small bodies, but with worries about loved ones, school routines turned upside down and a restricted access to the outdoors and play, the impact on children and young people’s mental and emotional wellbeing has been significant. Stories have been used traditionally to help us, whatever our age, to process how we feel.

I originally wrote Niniti and the Storm to soothe and delight children (aged 7+) and families during this pandemic time. However, we feel the themes facing fear and uncertainty and the importance of togetherness have a timeless quality. At Orca Guardians, we see how the bond between young orcas and their mothers and families is at the heart of how orca societies function. Whilst the story is fictional, the details included about how orcas live around Western Iceland are real and inspired by Orca Guardians’ important work. You can read about the time I first met Niniti, Aurora and family in this blog from May 2017.

Thank yous!
Thanks to Helen Iles for helping me edit the story and the initial recordings with enthusiasm and courage. Helen is an author and film-maker and she supports women to write from their deepest knowing. Thanks to Paul Herrington for the beautiful original music and for patient and creative sound editing. Paul is a musician and producer who supports wellbeing and positive mental health through creativity. The video creation for Youtube is by Marie Mrusczok of Orca Guardians, featuring her own stunning photographs.

Thanks to friends in Iceland, especially to Marie, Gísli, Jo, Karl and Sara of Orca Guardians and Láki Tours. Thanks to the children who first listened to this story in March 2020; Trishul, Theeran, Hari, Lucy, Azra, Yusuf, Rafi and Charlie. Thanks to everyone who read and offered feedback on the first draft – especially my niece and nephew Akashi and Shivum.

We’d love to hear from you
Whatever your age, we’d love to hear what you feel when listening to the story and what you think about it. Please email info@orcaguardians.org.
If you want to support Orca Guardians’ work (all led by volunteers), you can consider ‘adopting’ Niniti’s mother Aurora or another Icelandic orca!

Niniti and the Storm © Shilpa Shah, 2020. Original music © Paul Herrington, 2020. All rights reserved.

10 Mar 2020

by Steve Truluck

It’s peak season once again for seeing orcas in the Snæfellsnes Peninsula region of Iceland! Luckily for me, I’m the first volunteer of the Orca Guardians Iceland 2020 season aboard Láki Tours and the orcas are being seen on a regular basis.

As a volunteer for Orca Guardians, I’m assisting Marie (the founder) with taking ID photos, promoting the orca adoption programme to help fund her work, and by spreading the word of the amazing work Orca Guardians Iceland have been doing.

An orca surfaces close to Láki Tours, giving us all amazing views

The crew preparing the boat for a tour

I’m immensely proud to be part of the team, especially having seen all the recent work that has gone into documenting SN113 Riptide’s incredible journey through the Mediterranean. None of the matching of Riptide and his pod would have been possible without Marie’s focus and dedication to conserve and protect orcas in Iceland.

Icelanders are connecting with orcas more and more. The life-size sculpture of ‘Thunderstorm’ in Grundarfjörđur is a perfect example of how these incredible creatures have a profound impact on humans and how Orca Guardians Iceland is contributing to spreading awareness of orcas in Iceland.

Láki Tours supports the work Orca Guardians Iceland undertakes by providing the platform for Marie to do her research. After an hour of travelling on my very first trip, there they are! Striking, jet black, dorsal fins cutting through the swell. Instantly, everyone on board is happy. The power of orcas!

Me with a life-size sculpture of Thunderstorm (SN060); note that I am 1.91 m tall

Warrior in the swell after a long dive

Marie recognises the large male closest to the boat, ‘Warrior’! He has an obvious nick in his dorsal fin, but when you have identified hundreds of different orcas in the area it’s no mean feat to recognise a specific dorsal fin.

It’s a similar story on our second trip out and this time there’s even more orcas to photograph and observe. After 3 trips we’ve seen orcas, sperm whales, white-beaked dolphins and harbour porpoises as well as a myriad of bird species all in the spectacular surroundings of the Snæfellsnes Peninsula.

A sperm whale’s fluke close to the boat

Joining Marie and her dog Sara orca-spotting on the top deck

I am absolutely over the moon with what I’ve seen BUT there’s one thing I want to see more than anything…

I live in Scotland where I am part of a group of citizen scientists keeping track of the orcas seen in Scottish waters. This currently includes 29 orcas known to migrate between Iceland and Scotland. I would LOVE to see one of the Scottish orcas while I’m here. Will it happen?!

Check the next blog to find out more about the orcas migrating between Iceland and Scotland and to see if I’m successful…

If you would like to support Orca Guardians Iceland’s work by adopting an orca, please click here.

5 Apr 2019

by Shilpa Shah

The mammals most widely known as ‘orcas’ or ‘killer whales’ are the top predators of the ocean. They feed on a huge variety of creatures, from fish, sea birds and squid to seals, dolphins, sharks and whales much bigger than them. (50 orcas were recently observed hunting the largest mammal on our planet, the blue whale.) The only known threat to them is human behaviour.

Killer Facts
Killer whales are equipped with powerful jaws, up to 52 deadly interlocking teeth, a mighty fluke for slapping and a whopping top speed of around 50km per hour, but they communicate with each other to form excellent team work.
18th century sailors are said to have referred to the orca as ‘whale killer’, which may have been where the term ‘killer whale’ originated (Ballena asesina (‘assassin whale’) was used by the Spanish). Orcinus orca, the official species name, is no less a ferocious title. It broadly means ‘demon belonging to the realms of the dead’.

An orca with a herring clearly visible between its teeth

A killer whale’s powerful fluke, used for stunning prey

A gull looks on warily as a huge set of teeth surfaces

A dangerous reputation
When it comes to killing, orcas really know their stuff. Their hunting strategies show us just how creative and ingenious killer whales can be. Yet killer whales have been depicted negatively in Western cultures as far back as Roman times, when they were described as a ‘sea monster’ and ‘enormous mass of flesh armed with savage teeth’. The predatory feeding behaviour was interpreted as ‘a cruel act of violence’, especially as some orcas eat dolphins, which were revered as a good omen at the time.
Killer whales have been attacked over the centuries, particularly by fishermen who considered them competition for fish and often a danger to themselves. Even up until the 1970s US Navy diving manuals described the orca as ‘extremely ferocious’, warning that they will ‘attack human beings at every opportunity’. This is nonsense. There is no known record of an attack on humans in the wild. These magnificent hunters have been included in culling quotas around the world and even shot at for military target practice. For a long time, in many cultures they were considered evil at worst, irritating pests at best.

Large male “Scoop” (SN098) we spotted recently

Orcas can hunt larger whales such as sperm whales

A hunting killer whale curves its back going for a dive

The reputation swings from the 1970s
Captivity of killer whales became popular in Western cultures, starting in North America. People observed the intelligence, warmth and gentleness of orcas towards humans. Orcas experienced a new reputation, which was perhaps almost as dangerous for them as their ‘killer’ moniker – being perceived as cute, docile and enjoying performing tricks for human entertainment like a pet.
More was learnt about killer whales, particularly by researchers observing them at sea. We learnt about their strong family bonds, their team hunting strategies, their methods of communication. It became clearer and clearer how cruel captivity is, and the public opinion against aquariums and marine parks grew stronger.

Well then, which term should we use?
So, the public image of the killer whale changed rapidly from evil sea monster to cuddly marine park superstar to environmental mascot, all within 50 years or so. Perhaps it’s not surprising that lots of people are confused about whether to call them ‘orcas’ or ‘killer whales’. We actually use both terms interchangeably at Orca Guardians, just as I have done in this blog. However, as current human-made threats such as overfishing, fish farms, toxic pollution and climate change affect the health and longevity of these apex predators and all marine life across the world, it is still important to ask ourselves who is doing the killing.
My personal favourite term for the orca or killer whale is actually ‘Skana’, meaning ‘killer demon’ or ‘supernatural power’, used by the native Haida people of Canada, who understood and revered their nature and abilities long before Western cultures did. I like ‘Skana’ because it seems to convey the blend of powerful respect and warm admiration that these beings evoke in me.

(I’m grateful to Erich Hoyt’s book ‘Orca: The Whale Called Killer’, 1981, and these articles for aiding the research for this blog.)

30 Mar 2019

by Sandrine Pantel

I’ve been back home for several days now, and I still find it hard to believe the incredible experience I’ve just lived is real. Not once in my life could I have imagined I would be standing, one day, on the deck of a boat to admire and get to know the fantastic marine mammals of our planet off the coast of Iceland for several weeks!

Now I’m home again, I miss orcas the most. I miss seeing them appear in the distance, I miss hearing their breaths as they dived over and over again all around us, I miss seeing the little ones spy-hopping and leaping out of the water next to their mother or another calf… I miss everything about encountering them. Whenever you see them, time seems to stop and you just watch in awe as these whole families of black and white beings let you share a moment of their lives and even seem to enjoy your presence by coming so close to you that you can see them swim under the water surface and emerge before your amazed eyes.

During these three weeks, I really discovered how fascinating orcas are. They are fascinating to us, because they reflect the best versions of ourselves, as human beings: they are top predators but adapt to their environment without destroying it, they are immensely connected to each other and never let each other down, the bonds they share are extremely tight and they live all together in harmony. They have an intelligence we are only beginning to grasp and being around them is both wonderful and really soothing for the soul, giving you the feeling of a real connection with nature and a glimpse of what human societies could look like if we had their level of consciousness. They are far wiser than us, choosing to follow the matriarch of the group and doing everything to protect the whole pod, leaving no member behind.

Orcas are beautiful and intelligent animals who need to be protected just like every other inhabitant of the sea, and I am really worried about the situation of the Southern Residents community in Canada, starving because of a tragic lack of salmon in the waters, or by the contamination through pollution, particularly the threat of the pollutants known as polychlorinated biphenyls (PCBs) faced by all orcas and their offspring all around the world. If you want to help protect them, be sure to use as little plastic as possible, to recycle as much as you can, to reduce your fish consumption and to avoid using toxic products in your daily life that could end up in the ocean (hygiene products, household cleaners, etc.).

My love for orcas has only just begun, and so have my encounters with them, I hope! Being a volunteer for their protection is the most concrete thing I could do, and I wouldn’t hesitate for one second to do it again, for… how sad and immensely tragic would it be to live in a world without orcas?

Breathtaking sighting of orcas swimming next to each other

Lots of birds as the orcas are feeding on herring

An orca family in front of beautiful landscapes

An Icelandic female orca

27 Mar 2019

by Sandrine Pantel

The end of my volunteering mission for Orca Guardians Iceland is near and all I can say is this: it has been a fantastic experience that I only hope I can repeat one day. I have lived a real dream for three weeks, and I think it is no wonder, given the incredible luck that we had during our boat trips. The beauty of whale watching lies in the fact that no day is like the day before: the weather changes, the landscapes don’t look the same, the species you have the privilege to meet vary from one day to the next…

We have been blessed with sightings I will never forget. We have encountered sperm whales, humpback whales, and I even caught an elusive glimpse of a shy Minke whale close to our boat. We have been surrounded by white-beaked dolphins, each time several dozens of them feeding, playing, jumping around and swimming next to us, and it was a pure bliss to witness these spontaneous acrobatics, with the magical and snowy landscapes of the Snæfellsnes peninsula in the background.

A white-beaked dolphin with Kirkjufell mountain in the background

The shallow dives of a humpback whale

But the moments I will cherish and miss the most will be the voice of our guides announcing in the speakers: “We have amazing news for you, we have spotted the fins of orcas right ahead of us”. My heart soared each time and I couldn’t hide the smile that appeared on my lips as soon as I spotted the fins myself. The moments we got to share with the orcas were overwhelming for a hypersensitive orca lover like me! We saw healthy, energetic calves swimming and spy-hopping next to their mother, groups of several dozens individuals feeding under flocks of birds and resting together afterwards, lots of tail slapping, curious orcas appearing under the water surface next to our stationary boat… Needless to say, the moment one of them unexpectedly appeared right in front of my eyes to have a look at our boat became an instant favourite of mine.

Talking to the passengers after these sightings, as part of my mission for Orca Guardians, was a lot of fun and, sometimes, really emotional. It was a first for many of them, and I really could relate to their impressions and feelings afterwards: awe, wonder, joy and excitement. Young and old, couples with or without children: everyone reacts the same when it comes to meeting these amazing living beings that are whales and dolphins. Witnessing the lives of orca families or observing dozens of dolphins playing around the boat: for many passengers, it was a real dream come true, and sharing my impressions with them has certainly added to the charm of this first experience as a volunteer on whale watching boat trips. Speaking about the dedication of Orca Guardians after such encounters felt more than right. The people were thrilled to learn about Marie’s work, and many were eager to help by adopting a little Icelandic orca!

Truth be told, I can think of no better place than Iceland to meet cetaceans in the wild. Iceland, where orcas and dolphins can enchant you in the winter, and whales can fascinate you in the summer time. I know I will definitely be back for more, in the meantime thinking and dreaming about the wild orcas roaming the Icelandic waters, wishing for them to stay healthy, happy and free.

A female orca swimming next to us in snowy weather

An orca appearing right in front of my eyes

Sharing moments of an orca family

20 Mar 2019

by Sandrine Pantel

When you’re a volunteer on a whale watching boat, you want the passengers to be happy and to live a great experience. And since you are, most certainly, hooked on whales and orcas yourself, you pray you will be lucky enough to encounter them once again! But one question needs to be asked: would you be really as happy as you actually are when you get the chance to spot whales or orcas if their presence was guaranteed every day, on every trip?

So far, all of our excursions were lucky, with beautiful and emotional encounters with orcas, sperm whales and white-beaked dolphins. All of our trips, except two, and I really couldn’t help but feel sorry for the passengers. For many of them, this whale watching trip was a first time, and I could feel the sadness and disappointment in the end.

But this is exactly why such encounters are unique, unforgettable moments that live forever in one’s memories. Nature has its own laws and can be unpredictable. These animals are wild and free and can be unpredictable, too. They have their own lives, their own motivations, their own wishes.

If these experiences were guaranteed, how could they become precious? I only need to remember the first time I ever saw orcas last year: it was at the last moment of our trip, on the way to the harbour, when everybody had lost hope! I certainly believe this moment would not have been as special to me as it is now if we had encountered this whole group of orcas after sailing for only 30 or even 60 minutes!

This is why I enjoy so much living these experiences with Marie and her team. Many passengers ask me whether we use special devices or radar systems to locate exactly where the whales are. These magic devices do not exist and where would be the magic in that? Only observation and a good pair of binoculars are enough, when you know what to look for: blows and fins. And when they appear on the horizon, the moment becomes really exciting and emotional. It really feels like a privilege, a gift offered by nature itself.

Even without seeing orcas or whales, a boat trip off the coast of Iceland is absolutely worth it, with beautiful views and landscapes to admire whatever the season. For a successful boat tour, you have to remember that you can’t always be… successful. You may be disappointed but, in the end, on the day you will see a whale or an orca for the first time in your life, you may get moved enough to shed a tear or two, because it will be a true, natural, authentic encounter with the sea and its inhabitants.

I will continue to enjoy every one of our tours, even the ones without any sighting, for nature cannot and should not be tamed or commanded. Nature is not an amusement park where you get instantly what you want, and it should stay that way.

A lucky encounter with a sperm whale

Spotting a blow is not always guaranteed – be thrilled when you do!

Seeing an orca is always magical and precious

The landscapes of the Icelandic coast can also take your breath away

12 Mar 2019

by Sandrine Pantel

It’s been five days since I’ve arrived in Grundarfjörður and the three boat trips we have had so far already offered me some of the most intense and precious emotions of my life. They have also given me the confirmation of something I already knew, but now I know it in the bottom of my heart: orcas belong in the nature and holding them captive is the cruellest thing to do to them.

We were lucky enough to meet orca families at the beginning of the week, both in the morning and in the afternoon of the same day. We had spotted them from the coast the day before, and here they were still, traveling, feeding and playing in groups. They appeared in front of us, off the snowy coast of the Snæfellsjökull glacier, and continued their activities around the boat for several, wonderful minutes, visibly undisturbed by our presence. One orca mother was swimming with her calf beside her, maybe teaching it how to catch fish. These groups of orcas were definitely happy to be together. They didn’t seem to need anything else than simply being together. And free. Free to go wherever they chose.

On the following day, the weather conditions did not allow us to have a boat trip in the afternoon, so we decided to go and look for them from the coast, standing there for long moments despite the cold wind. And here they were again! Their blows first became visible in the distance, right before their distinct black fins started to dance at the surface, appearing and disappearing from our sight among the foamy waves. The big fins of the males were the most visible, but there were certainly females too, maybe even little calves. The most incredible thing suddenly happened, something we had definitely not expected: one of them breached twice in front of our eyes! Was it out of pure joy, playfulness…? In every case, this orca was free, happy, and happy to be free. It didn’t need to be taught tricks and to get fish out of a basket to express itself and to enchant us with its grace and beauty.

Like every other animal on the planet, orcas are born to be free. Holding them captive is both cruel and useless. The emotions one gets in front of the orca shows in some marine parks all over the world will never even compare to the excitement and wonder of witnessing their relations and behaviours in the wild.

Fighting against whale and dolphin captivity is a goal I intend to pursue, and I wish with all my heart to see the end of this cruel and despicable business. Marine parks don’t even have to close: they can simply adapt to the wishes and changes of mentalities of our societies, by stopping their orca and dolphin shows and replacing them with modern 3D animations, for example.

This fight is far from over and I sincerely believe Orca Guardians Iceland and Láki Tours can make a big difference, for encountering free orcas certainly makes it impossible to visit such marine parks again.

Orca swimming and diving near our boat

A female orca and her little adorable calf

We encounter an orca family roaming the Icelandic waters

The incredible moment an orca breached twice in front of our eyes

3 Mar 2019

by Sandrine Pantel

Iceland is the country where I fell in love twice last year.

First with the country itself on my first trip there in February. Even if the weather conditions were quite extreme, I was at once fascinated by this wild and harsh land, its landscapes that seemed to be from another world, its magical light, and the feeling of being submitted to nature’s forces that comes with visiting this island.

The second time was in June, when I had the privilege of flying to Iceland once more, a visit during which a whale-watching tour was planned. If I am to be honest, I was not interested in orcas at that time, because I didn’t know them. I loved the ocean and I was aware of the importance of preserving its ecosystems, its populations of species as amazing as they are diverse, the dolphins, the whales, the sharks…

But I didn’t know orcas. I had never read any books or watched any documentaries about them, I had never even seen the famous movie Free Willy as a child! Hoping to see whales on that tour, the sentiment was at first quite a disappointment. No blue giant swimming alongside our boat, no graceful behemoth emerging from the surface in an amazing splash of water… Just the chilly wind, the still waters under a white sky, plenty of birds like puffins and northern gannets… I just love being on a boat and it was very relaxing and peaceful, but the excitement was slowly disappearing as minutes passed, leaving the sad feeling of a missed opportunity, something that could have been the encounter of a lifetime.

Marie used that time to explain us everything she could about the marine mammals living or travelling in the waters off the coast of the Snæfellsnes peninsula, all the while casting glances around the boat in the hope of spotting a splash, a breath or a fin in the distance.

The fluke of a sperm whale as it dives for the last time in front of us

With Marie on the boat after naming Maya

A male orca near the other boat of Láki Tours, the first one we see

All of a sudden, our patience is rewarded: a sperm whale has been spotted by the other boat of Láki Tours! A whale, we are going to see a whale for the first time… Our boat rushes to catch up with the other one and, once arrived on the spot, stops at a reasonable distance, not too close so as not to disturb the sperm whale, but still close enough to allow us to see its back very distinctively above the water. And then the whale dives under the surface and lets us glimpse, for a magical moment, its fluke rising out of the water. The whale had already gone out of our sight, but what a sight.

Then it is already time to start our way back to the harbour and it seems this lone sperm whale was destined to be our only glimpse of the incredible Icelandic marine fauna.

We get silent and feel sadness and regret once again, even if we know very well that nature is not here to fulfil our wishes. We are on our way back and Marie nicely tries to comfort us by offering us a cup of tea. As our hopes start to fade away completely, she suddenly emerges from the boat’s cabin and smiles. “The tea will have to wait; the other boat has spotted a whole group of orcas!”

We can’t believe our luck, at the very last minute of our tour. But since I don’t know orcas very well, I don’t know what to expect. I don’t realize that orcas travel in family groups and I don’t expect to be as moved as I actually am when we finally encounter them. The other boat of Láki Tours pulls away, choosing to give the orcas space and then we are alone with them. Their sight takes my breath away and I feel my eyes starting to fill with tears, especially when I think of the other orcas imprisoned in small concrete tanks all over the world.

They feed around us, emerging and diving over and over again in harmonious movements, chasing after the herrings they like to eat here. They recognize the sound of the boat’s motor and don’t fear us at all. I realize how intelligent they are, how close and connected to each other. It is a privilege to get to admire them in the wild and to spend a short time in their company. Marie explains that one of the female orcas had not been named yet and that we get to give her a name: Maya now roams the Icelandic waters with her family, and I hope to meet her again one day!

Our boat slowly pulls away and I remain on the deck to keep them in sight for as long as I can, taking a last picture of an orca diving in the distance. This was the day I got to meet orcas and started to care for them. All it takes is one encounter in the wild and the urge to help protect them becomes irresistible.

Another male orca next to our boat

The fin of a male orca diving on the horizon

Back to France, I started to work closely for an association fighting against whale and dolphin captivity in marine parks, I even adopted an orca of the Northern Residents community of Canada, but I wanted to do more.

Dedicating my next holidays to help raise awareness of their beauty, their intelligence, their importance and the many threats they face became a real goal for me.

And here I am, ready to fly back to Iceland in one week’s time to volunteer for Marie and her association Orca Guardians Iceland. My dreams start to fill with images of new encounters with orcas, I start to see orcas everywhere in my everyday life… in a word, I slowly but surely become obsessed with them! And I hope to be able to share my obsession as well as moments of joy with the next persons choosing Láki Tours for a (hopefully) memorable journey to the world of orcas.

9 May 2018

by Lionel Davoust

Observing marine mammals in the wild begins by being able to find them, and there is no real shortcut for that: it requires, above all, long hours of patience and concentration, using, first and foremost, a pair of trained eyes.

There is almost a meditative quality to watching the ocean thus. Whether under the radiant sun, or the snow, or the rain amidst cold winds, being a spotter requires keen eyes, a high tolerance for weather and constant attention. Often the thoughts start wandering, the eyes see the waves, but stop looking at them; that is when the mind brings them back gently to the present moment, which is exactly what meditation is about.

As we are scanning the horizon, we are looking for the tell-tale signs of whales: above all, the blow, mistaken for ages for water, is a mixture of water vapor, condensation in the air and mucus. In the sometimes rough seas of Iceland, where white caps abound, it can be very difficult to spot. Splashes of whales breaching and dolphins jumping are much easier to see, but rarer; and of course, there are the big, pointed dorsal fins of orcas (which earned them in older history the nickname of “orca gladiators” or, in French, épée de mer, meaning “sea sword”). Observing and spotting whales requires such knowledge that marine mammal observers (MMOs) are actually trained and recognized professionals and consultants who participate in conservation surveys or make sure wildlife guidelines and codes of conduct near whales are respected on many commercial vessels.

The blow of an orca is one of the most tell-tale signs of their presence; it can be seen at several hundred meters by a keen spotter.

For orcas especially, the big black fin of males is quite easy to spot. It can reach a height of 1,80 meters.

Of course, when you’re lucky, playful cetaceans can also produce all manners of splashes that can be seen from afar!

Human beings only really travel at the surface of the seas. Most oceanic life happens under the water, and only a few meters of depths already constitutes a mystery to us. This is the first great challenge of marine biology – to infer accurate and broad conclusions from sparse data, of which every item is thus precious. Statistical and computer models help us reveal hidden patterns and trends in numbers gathered in the field just like oceanic depths revealed from the surface; but above all, regular and consistent data collection is invaluable for this subject – and Orca Guardians is very fortunate to be associated with Láki Tours, which enables the researchers to go out on the water and collect data every day that the weather allows, surveys which would be otherwise costly and fragmented.

The other great challenge is the challenge of science itself, which presents itself even more acutely in life sciences, and that is to observe without changing the phenomenon which is observed – that is, to observe without disturbance. It is fortunate that marine biology is shifting more and more towards non-invasive research, which provides a wealth of data. Beyond the obvious ethics of endeavoring to not hurt those magnificent animals, any behavioral change caused by a scientific study ruins the whole point of the data collection – it is irremediably flawed and, worse than ignorance, may lead to biased and ruinous conclusions. Passive acoustic monitoring, photo-identification surveys and behavior observation are all techniques that enable researchers to observe whales and dolphins directly and indirectly and to crack the secrets of the depths.

But it all starts, and cannot do without, those long hours of gazing at the sea.

Sperm whales have a very characteristic blow, low and slanted.

Some whales dive headfirst, revealing their characteristic flukes on the horizon… to live a life we can barely guess the secrets of.

30 Apr 2018

by Lionel Davoust

Can science prove the intelligence of whales and dolphins?

This has to be the most common and sought-after question about these fascinating animals, starting from diverse ideas about their possible “language” to their self-image. Are cetaceans intelligent?

Do we share the world with another intelligent species? What does that tell about them – about us?

Actually, the question of intelligence is two-fold. Strictly speaking, it is a matter of cognitive abilities, where creativity applied to problem-solving expresses itself. That question has largely been solved: yes, cetaceans do exhibit a stunning variety of creative behaviours that we get to see here in Icelandic waters, whether it is the coordination and astuteness expressed by orcas that are carousel feeding on herring, or simply seeing them surfing the waves when the swell is high.
But strict problem-solving is not what the human mind, deep down, looks for with this question. Otherwise, Siri and Alexa would be called intelligent. What we are looking for, the real question that lies behind the matter of intelligence, is sentience. Sentience is self-awareness; it is the ability to view yourself as a sensitive being and experience the fact of experiencing the world. Just as we, humans, feel ourselves as existing, as beings conscious of ourselves and of what we feel and think – in other words, we can define ourselves as objects through a thought process that is one step removed from our direct experience of the world.

That is the grand question of cetacean intelligence. (And of animal intelligence in general.) Are there other beings, beyond our species, that are sentient to a level that would be comparable to our own?

Science multiplies methods and processes to observe the world and infer conclusions from data, from recent drone observations of animals to complex statistical models. With these methods and thanks to the ever-evolving frame of mind of researchers and scientists, we have observed, for instance, enigmatic behaviours of dolphins staying near the body of a dead comrade and exhibiting apathy – something that it is hard not to call “grieving”. We know dolphins have signature whistles that identify themselves uniquely among a pod – something that is hard not to call “a name”. We know many species of whales sing a huge variety of songs and that some of those are repeated, propagated from pod to pod, as they take on – something that science is resolutely calling “culture”.

So what does that tell us? Are cetaceans sentient? Ultimately?

There is a catch.

That question cannot be answered by science and fact.

Science deals with observations, with objectivity. We can infer dolphins grieve, we call their songs culture, but these are emanations and not causes. Of what nature is the mind behind these emanations? Look at a fellow human. See him or her go about his or her day. Postulate a foreign mind, alien maybe, looking at this – how could it be able to infer sentience from the outside?

You, as a human being, you can. You can because you are sentient yourself, and therefore, when looking at a member of your own species, you attribute sentience to him or her, as you feel yourself being so.

But you act, really, on faith. You do not get into the other’s head to experience his or her point of view – you cannot.

I would like to submit this to you: ultimately, sentience cannot be demonstrated. We can pile facts upon facts about the fascinating behaviours of whales and dolphins – and it is capital for research and conservation to always know more; but we will never have enough to answer the question of sentience. Sentience is a little like Gödel’s theorem – a famous mathematical proof which says, in layman’s terms, that a coherent system cannot demonstrate its own coherence. Just like a dictionary of a given language is forced to use its own words to explain what other words mean – there is no outside explanation possible.

We cannot, in the foreseeable future, get into the heads of whales and dolphins. We have ample demonstration of their amazing range of expression and we keep learning every day. Are they sentient? This is not a question that can be empirically solved. Ultimately, it is an act of – yes – faith on our part as individuals, and as a species. What do we choose to attribute to other species that exhibit such a stunning range of expression and behaviours? How do we consider them?

In the end, that answer will be telling much more about us than it will about them.

Almost daily observations are needed to understand and follow the ever-evolving, complex social ties of orcas.

Complete weaning takes two years for an orca calf, a period during which he or she learns the refined hunting techniques of the pod.

Seeing dolphins playing in the wake of a boat reminds us of an age-old fascination that seems to go both ways between man and animal.

Humpback whales exhibit an astounding variety of songs, some of which are adopted and propagated over long distance in what amounts to a form of culture.

Orcas can travel up to 120 km per day and show astonishing knowledge of their environment using senses like echolocation, that are alien to us.

Sperm whales can regularly be seen around Snæfellsnes in groups of males called “bachelor pods“. Little is still known about their presence here – what they feed on, for instance.