Killing Keiko Read online

  There are statements within this document that oversimplify this process. I fear that these statements to the board and the media can and have misconstrued the complexity and level of difficulty involved in the reintroduction of a captive killer whale to the wild. We have shot ourselves in the foot and done a disservice to the public to speak of Keiko as being “ready.” FWKF jumped the gun on announcing that Keiko was eating live fish and by miscommunicating the importance of live fish consumption when at the moment we are just trying to get Keiko to eat period.

  Comfortably oblivious to the tyrannical exchange with Lanny, the Marine Operations team continued in its own world moving toward the installation of the barrier net. Michael Parks, our chief of Marine Operations heading up this process, was obsessive-compulsive about safety. When working in a marine environment around boats, lines and the unpredictability of the sea, a healthy respect for Mother Ocean can be of great value in keeping all appendages intact. The last thing the project needed was a serious injury or, God forbid, a death.

  Everything about the barrier net was an exercise in overcoming obstacles. Nothing came easy, and this was the prevailing challenge even before installation of the net began. The first hurdle came in determining what material could withstand the forces that would wreak havoc on the net itself. Woods Hole engineers had calculated that the net would be subjected to force currents exceeding eighteen knots. Deciding what the net should be made of was a critical decision. It would need to be stronger than steel, but flexible and light.

  Another important decision involved how large the “netting” had to be … in other words, what size to make the “boxes” created by the crisscrossing of the net material. The smaller the net’s mesh, the more material and thus more drag on the net from currents in the bay. Too large and the net would not be strong enough to hold together. Another incalculable factor was natural and artificial debris. Any seaweed, kelp or trash that collected on the net would only increase its drag coefficient and put additional stress on the net and anchoring system. This had as much to do with maintaining a clean net, but in the design it was also a factor in determining the size of the mesh.

  If successful in getting the barrier net installed, it was abundantly clear that it would become a maintenance nightmare to keep in place. Soon, our heroic Marine Ops team, aptly nicknamed “Mighty Mo,” would redouble their efforts to maintain the tools of reintroduction. They were well acquainted with a bay pen always on the verge of ripping apart. Now they were inheriting an 800-foot monster net with an unknown appetite competing for similar affections.

  By the end of September, Michael, Robin and the Marine Ops team were working with OFS marine technicians, Vestmannaeyjar net makers, and several local and international experts in the art of marine construction to answer the unknowns. How could the net be anchored, but allow for the tidal variance? What would be used to actually anchor the net in the rock on each side of the bay? How were we to get boats across the net? How would the net be visible to other boats? When ready, how was Keiko going to exit through the barrier net?

  In the following weeks, each question would be answered or at least theories would prevail. Many of the solutions could not be tested until the net was physically in place across the expanse. In all cases, the true test of the net would come under the often extreme conditions particular to Klettsvik Bay. Designing and installing a net of this size was not such a monumental task when the seas are calm, but in the formidable surge currents that plagued Klettsvik, no one could truly know if their theories would hold water until after the fact.

  At Long Last

  It was the eve of October and we had been on an uphill battle with Keiko’s diet for six long weeks. While food alone is not a compelling motivator, the excess of food (satiation) can be an overwhelming force in deterring motivation. Without question we had been at a literal standstill in Keiko’s physical rehabilitation. Worse, we were still feeding the rich, high-calorie herring, still awaiting the arrival of a viable replacement.

  During this satiated period, Keiko had no interest in food; therefore our only means to alter his behavior came through other forms of reinforcement we could provide. He had become so pigged-out on the “chocolate cake” herring that his old and lazy pastime of boat watching rose to an all-time high. Still hopelessly locked within the confines of the bay pen, our menu of reinforcement was narrowed to no more than our relationship with the Big Man. We had to move him more to mitigate the fattening barrage of calories that had nearly reversed the summer’s progress. But as the reality of the barrier net came slowly into focus, this need for increased human interaction was frustrating. It seemed the whole of August and September had been lost to stagnation and Keiko’s backwards interest in boat traffic.

  E-mail Excerpt:

  October 3, 1999

  Subject: Our boy Keiko

  To: Brian O’Neill

  From: Mark

  Hey, Brian,

  I think we may be on the brink of breaking through to the other side with the big man’s hunger drive … going to take him to 44 today and possibly hold there. Problem is that we are still feeding the fatty food. Should have capelin to substitute by today. Robin has located good herring in Boston and we are trying to ship it in ASAP. That will fix one of our problems … the rest are just time.

  Take care … enjoy that beautiful state of yours …

  Mark

  As fortune would have it, October would see a turn in our favor on several fronts. Our noble athlete, forced into dragging lethargy, finally seemed to be emerging from his slumber. At the same time, we received word from the west that other hurdles had been overcome. Namely, Lanny’s stand at the “OK Corral” board meeting had run its course. The general outline of the release plan had been ratified. Soon enough, with the doldrums of summer behind us, looming changes imposed by the approved release plan would begin to electrify the Land of Fire and Ice.

  Paralleling the foundational work of preparing for barrier net installation, the Behavior Team was hard at work on our own small pet project: a means to give Keiko access to the medical pool. As a part of the repairs made to the bay pen in early September, the medical pool had been completely netted off in order to keep Keiko away from jagged and harmful areas of the pen damaged in the storm. A general truism of life, problems often come hand-in-hand with opportunities. By placing a net wall on both sides of the medical pool, the Marine Ops team had in effect provided us the means to build a gateway into the medical pool. The configuration would allow us the chance to train Keiko on going through a net gate in anticipation of the same access method to the bay beyond.

  This was an important step to rehearse. Keiko had a history of problems with going through gated channels. In his Newport facility, the trainers had much difficulty getting him to go into that facility’s medical pool. The Newport med pool had a gate on each end, and Keiko would swim into the med pool with his entire body, leaving only his tail flukes just outside the gate through which he entered. Rather than swim through the medical pool and out the other side, he would slowly back himself out of the same gate. This behavior was the trademark result of a traumatic history with gates somewhere in Keiko’s past. During his brief habitation at Marineland in Canada, other whales, his dominant pool-mates, repeatedly bullied him by pinning him behind gates and in smaller pools. He learned that by leaving his flukes in the gate channel, he could physically block his caregivers from being able to shut the gate, thus never committing to going into the smaller medical pool.

  In my time at SeaWorld, conditioning and maintaining gating and separation behavior was a daily theme, incorporated into every session and interaction. Teaching an animal to hold for gates to open and close or voluntarily move between pools and/or social groups was made to be one of the most fun activities in which the whales engaged. The fact is that proper gate conditioning, as simple a concept as it seems, eludes many caregivers who work in managed care environments. All too often coercion and baiting become the wel
l-worn tools of separating animals. A product of this shortcoming, Keiko’s history with gates, mainly avoidance, was typical of the behavior produced by many smaller old-world facilities.

  Why was this avoidance of gating an important obstacle to overcome? In this case, it was vital that Keiko commit to entering the med pool in order to fit him for the tracking device prior to open ocean access. Even more relevant was that Keiko learned to go completely through a narrow gateway. In order to get him bodily from the bay pen to the wide expanse of the bay, and then again from the bay to the open ocean, Keiko needed to be fluid and proficient at going through gates.

  A side benefit of conditioning the gateway was the mental stimulation this new goal would provide Keiko. After only a few weeks stuck in the north pool alone, amplified by his recent dietary setbacks, Keiko’s day had become painfully monotonous. He was beginning to show signs of withdrawal. We couldn’t afford a setback of this nature … not at this stage in the rehabilitation. The timing of the med pool gate was serendipitous, a perfect and welcome change of pace for the Behavior Team and Keiko alike.

  Excerpt

  OFS Public Web Update: November 2, 1999

  Behavior modification was first applied to cetaceans (whales and dolphins) in 1953 at Marine Mammal Productions in St. Augustine, Florida. Although the field of animal training has been around for much longer, countless advances have been made over the last 46 years.

  Due to the unique characteristics of an aquatic environment, training cetaceans focused largely on a method called “positive reinforcement,” the principal means used in conditioning Keiko when he was younger. While Keiko’s current goals have changed drastically from what he learned at an early age, we still use positive reinforcement to help influence behavior throughout his rehabilitation.

  Goals such as learning to capture and eat live fish, physical conditioning (exercise), swimming through a gate, following a designated boat, and adapting to a new environment all represent significant change for Keiko. Positive reinforcement helps Keiko adjust to these changes by carefully introducing each step and focusing on his successes, one at a time.

  Doff and Don

  Remarkably, it did not take long to design and fabricate the gateway for Keiko’s access to the med pool (despite all the activity surrounding the ongoing barrier net work). Brian and I had drawn out a napkin design of a square aluminum frame, ten feet wide by fifteen feet deep, which would be tied into the medical pool’s net wall just below the surface of the water. Once affixed to the net wall, we would cut the center out making a hole in the med pool net framed by the metal outline. In order to open and close our makeshift gate, the two sides of the frame had vertical bars or tracks welded on and running unobstructed up the length of the frame. A free-floating horizontal bar, attached to the frame’s vertical bars on each side by eyebolts, allowed the gate to be opened or closed.

  The frame was fabricated by a welder in town and brought out to the bay pen by Michael and the valiant Marine Ops crew. Michael and the guys helped us lower the frame into place and anchored it in several spots on the med pool’s net wall. The rest would be up to Brian and me. Marine Ops had more than they could handle and could not spend the time tediously stitching the frame into place. As in most animal environments where personnel are divided by specialized responsibilities, the Behavior Team was viewed as soft-handed wimps by the leathered and tough Marine Operations gorillas. Brian and I wouldn’t have any of it. We would have this gate installed and in operation in no time and without asking for any help, come hell or high water.

  The high water came when we were diving on the outside of the bay pen between the net walls of the north pool and the medical pool. Roughly two feet separated the opposing vertical walls providing only enough space to turn around while clad in full dive gear and a restrictive dry suit. At first both Brian and I had been diving. Monotonously, with hands numb from cold, we went square mesh by square mesh tying the net to the metal frame of the bay pen’s middle structure. Eventually, we ran out of dive tanks and had only enough to allow one of us in the water at a time. The other remained topside, warming his core while waiting for the agonizingly slow compressor to refill the next series of tanks.

  On one such interval I had been down below and in between the two net walls. Lost in thought born of repetitive work, I was alone in the serene, albeit frigid, underwater world. Void of sound and gravity, a work-dive can be a nice escape. Of course it doesn’t always go so smoothly. As was the case on this particular occasion, a swift surge current came out of nowhere and swept the two net panels upward toward the surface, sandwiching me in the middle. Having been a frequent diver, and only at a depth of twenty feet or so, I was not immediately alarmed and resisted the urge to tense my body. The surge came into the bay traveling north, paused and then returned south and out of the bay. As quickly as it came it went. In its wake I was left tangled in a heap between the two net panels.

  If pressed, I do not think I could come up with any scenario imaginable where panic would actually be beneficial. It certainly was not in this situation. Although immobilized as if caught in a giant underwater spider’s web, I at least kept my cool. For the time being, I had plenty of air—about a quarter tank (in that temperature, approximately fifteen minutes). At first I tried to reposition myself to get a feel for where all the hang-ups were. But it was nothing doing. The snags were behind me. No easy out this time. I would just have to take all the gear off underwater.

  In diving, this is called “doff and don,” meaning to remove the dive gear and put it back on while keeping the regulator or mouthpiece in your mouth (never losing the air supply). In the process of getting a diver’s certification, this is a required skill. Only I had to modify the exercise slightly. Because I was tangled with the first stage caught in the net behind my head and my feet stuck through the opposite net, I had to completely remove the dive gear and take the regulator out of my mouth (though I maintained a death grip on it the entire time).

  The maneuver only took maybe a minute; however, the exercise was complicated by the fact that I could not feel my feet or hands. Visibility was only a meter at best. Nonetheless, I managed to get loose from the net, and with equipment in tow, dove down and out of the confines of the pen.

  Climbing back on deck, I was pretty proud of myself for not flipping out and turning a minor inconvenience into something more serious. Although emergency skills like doff and don and buddy breathing are practiced, actually needing them in a real world setting is quite different than a dress rehearsal. Daylight was growing short and Brian and I decided it would take another day to finish the gateway.

  By the end of the second day we had the new gate firmly lashed in place around its entire perimeter—over thirty-five meters of net stitching. After a thorough inspection of the medical pool, we opened the rectangular center of the frame thus granting Keiko access.

  The gate acted just like an upside-down window shade. When open, the excess net would sag at the bottom of the gateway. When closed, the bagging net was pulled to the top by the horizontal bar and stretched tight over the opening, thereby closing the gate. Michael, Smari, Greg and Blair all pitched in with final touches and installed a hand-crank system allowing us to open or shut the gate from the side of the pool.

  To our amazement, the gate worked beautifully. Gravity did all the work of opening the gate and although shutting it was slow (many turns later on the hand-crank), it operated more smoothly than we anticipated.

  OFS Public Web Update: November 14, 1999

  Preparing Keiko for reintroduction involves precision planning. In previous updates we have talked about various goals that must be achieved for rehabilitation. Learning to catch and eat live fish, following a designated boat in the open ocean, and meeting the physical demands of travel in the North Atlantic are perhaps the most obvious; however, there are numerous smaller victories in store for Keiko. Planning for the long-term goals requires breaking those goals down into day-to-day events. I
t is the implementation of these short-term challenges that becomes so important in setting Keiko up to succeed at the bigger picture.

  In last week’s update (11/2/99), we talked about the use of DRA conditioning and how it shapes Keiko’s behavior. We are currently utilizing DRA conditioning to prepare Keiko for a significant step in the rehabilitation process.

  Our marine engineers have been working around the clock on preparations to install the “barrier net,” a net that spans 300 meters and will allow Keiko access to the entire bay. Exposure to the bay area represents significant change for Keiko. In Klettsvik bay he will have access to a natural ocean bottom for the first time in 20 years! There is a wide variety of sea life contained in the bay (including some pretty big sea stars). Of course there are some challenges that Keiko must meet before any of this can happen. In order to access the bay, Keiko must learn to swim through an opening in the bay pen net itself.

  To prepare Keiko for this detail of his rehabilitation, our on-site team designed and installed a “gateway” between two pools on the inside of the bay pen. Using this gateway, Keiko will learn to swim in and out of his floating pen and eventually, out of the bay area. This particular opening will act as a prototype for the actual gateway that will be placed in the barrier net between Klettsvik Bay and the North Atlantic.

  Gateway Conditioning

  Learning to swim through the gate is an important step; however, equally as important to his long-term rehabilitation is “how” Keiko learns this behavior. Each step of the way trainers encourage Keiko to explore his surroundings. Introducing a new item such as the gate offers an opportunity to reward Keiko’s initiative.

  On Friday November 12, divers completed their final inspection of the new gateway making sure that all was in order and the area was safe for Keiko. That afternoon the gate was opened granting Keiko access to another section of the bay pen.