There’s no way to say this easily, so I’m just going to say it. Tilikum - probably the most well-known and controversial orca whale in the world - has died.
Tilikum has been battling a tenacious lung infection for around a year. and that is what he likely succumbed to, despite dedicated 24-hour care. Officially, cause of death is never announced until after a thorough necropsy (animal autopsy), which involves the collection and study of many tissue samples. That takes time and allows the veterinary staff to scientifically confirm the conclusions they reach from studying the animal’s body. Tilikum’s necropsy will likely be performed in Seaworld’s on-site building, specifically built for the task of handling large cetaceans. It is reasonable then, in this case, for the press release to state that there is no official cause of death - it is suspected, but vet staff are doing their jobs and following the proper protocol before publicizing it.
Headlines all over the internet are immortalizing him as a “killer” killer whale - either the unwitting champion of a polarizing media piece, or as a violent and unstable martyr. I challenge you to think about this differently: an animal is dead. An animal we, as a collective culture, have placed a huge amount of moral and societal weight on. That should be our focus today. Not the politics, not if this is champions a movement. A whale from a beautiful, powerful, rare species is dead.
(It has not been an easy week for anyone in the orca fandom - J-2 (Granny) was announced missing from her pod and is presumed dead as well).
I want to ask people to stop, for a second, before diving into what is surely to be the newest round of furor and recognize that a beloved animal is gone and that people are grieving. Tilikum was an icon to millions of people on all sides of the cetacean captivity debate and because of that, an ambassador for his species. Whatever you say about it in the coming days, please keep in mind that for many this is an extremely personal topic, and be kind.
If you’re ever feeling down on yourself just remember that a group of animals which swim backwards and constantly bump into things has clung to existence for around 200 million years
5.0 out of 5 stars Five Stars 5.0 out of 5 stars A poetic and unusual perspective on marine invertebrates To say that biologists can learn about modern sea life from glass models made 140 years ago is to credit both worlds: the close observations of the contemporary scientist and the extraordinary skill of the late nineteenth century Dresden glassmakers Leopold and Rudolf Blaschka. In her book, A Sea of Glass; Searching for the Blaschkas’ Fragile Legacy in an Ocean at Risk, Drew Harvell, Professor of Ecology and Evolutionary Biology at Cornell University, has succeeded in bringing their glass models to life, searching to find their living counterparts. Each is a metaphor for the other. She sees the glass models as time capsules. Her favorite, the glass model of the common octopus, was carefully restored recently from many small pieces while its living counterpart also lives tenuously today, in its natural habitat. Thus this beautifully written, absorbing, purposeful and eye-opening book presents a time warp: late 19th century glass models and contemporary real specimens, studied on dives by the author in Indonesia, Italy, Hawaii, and the San Juan Islands, Washington State, as well as the low tide flats of Creek Farm, near Portsmouth, New Hampshire.The author begins with a history of these Czech glassblowers, telling how Leopold’s 1853 sea voyage and his observations of jellyfish in the Atlantic, including the Portuguese Man of War, led to a fascination with invertebrate sea animals. This book restores to public view the importance of these invertebrate models which until now have been less well known than the Blaschkas’ glass flowers, notably those in the collection at Harvard University. With this book, the invertebrate sea creatures retake center stage, both for their art and for their contributions to the study of nature or, as the author puts it, the tree of life.Read more › Go to Amazon5.0 out of 5 stars fascinating in the discussion of both biology and art, jaw-dropping photos of the glass sculptures Drew Harvell’s A Sea of Glass: Searching for the Blaschka’s Fragile Legacy in an Ocean at Risk is a braided work of non-fiction whose three strands focus on the creation of a 19th Century collection of exquisitely crafted glass replicas of marine invertebrates, the biology of the creatures themselves, and Harvell’s attempt through a series of dives to learn how these creatures, so plentiful at the time of their reproduction in glass, are doing in a world grown mostly more inimical to their existence thanks to overfishing, pollution, and most especially global warming.The Blashchkas, a father and son glassmaking team, ended up creating almost 800 of the finely detailed replicas as teaching tools for universities (they were actually more famous for their glass flowers, many of which were displayed in royal gardens). Their dedication and artistic ability can be traced through their letters and journals, through the painstaking notes they took, through the watercolors they created before attempting the same creature in glass, and through the incredible detail of the sculptures, of which experts at the Corning Museum of Glass declared that they could think of no peers, living or dead, who could have achieved the same fine work.Harvell is an excellent guide to the naturalist account of how these creatures live—what they eat and how, how they reproduce, their place in the environmental food web, etc. All of it, explained in precise, clear language is utterly fascinating, even when she describes what she acknowledges are often thought of as the more “dull” creatures, the worms.Meanwhile, her attempt to evaluate these creatures’ vitality in their current existence is highly personal and emotional.Read more › Go to Amazon
The ancient Hawaiian creation myth posits that the present cosmos is only the last in a series, having arisen from the wreck of a previous universe. In this telling, the octopus is the lone survivor of that previous universe – an alien creature from another time. Octopus are, in reality, incredibly bizarre and fascinating animals. Highly intelligent, extraordinarily flexible and amazingly complex, they serve as a stark reminder to how truly different the underwater world is from our own. The tentacles pictured here belong to a Giant Pacific Octopus currently residing in the Seattle Aquarium.
