Sunday, July 27, 2008
Opinion
Don’t swim with the whale sharks
Perhaps the most important thing we should be learning is to stay away from them.
By Stephanie Ramage
My son and I spent our vacation on Grand Manan, an island in Canada’s Bay of Fundy. We were there to learn to sea kayak, do some hiking among the island’s gorgeous cliffs and to see whales, seals and puffins. And we saw all of them up close—so close that the thought of it still disturbs me.
The Bay of Fundy’s boat captains operate under guidelines that prohibit being closer than 100 meters to a whale, but some Canadian tour boat operators chase the gentle giants mercilessly, steering tight circles around them to allow their paying passengers a close-up of the animals. Even from 100 meters, I could clearly see scars on the dorsal fins and backs of finbacks and humpbacks that had been rammed by boats or gashed by fishing gear. Nearly all showed such marks.
“I don’t care if we see any more,” I told one of our guides as yet another shiny black back with a filigree of scar-tissue emerged from the water. “Really, I think maybe we ought to just keep away from them. I’m afraid we’re going to hit them.”
As the human population explodes on our small blue planet, we are pushing Earth’s other occupants into smaller areas or forcing them to adapt to our environment. It’s hypocritical to further our intrusion upon them in the name of learning, when perhaps the most important thing we should be learning is to stay away from them.
My goal on the Bay of Fundy was to see seals, and we saw them. While I was cursing my camera, a small harbor seal “porpoised,” the term our guide used to described the panicked air-bound arch up out of the waves. If you’ve ever seen the video where the orca eats the seal, you’ve seen that maneuver.
“They do that when they’re frightened,” the guide told me.
I asked if there was a whale in the water. He didn’t say anything.
“It’s us, isn’t it?”
“It could be,” he said.
These encounters made me think of the "Swim With Gentle Giants" program launched by the Georgia Aquarium last month, which allows a dozen swimmers and divers per day to enter the whale sharks' habitat.
When interviewed by the L.A. Times about the Georgia Aquarium’s program, Jean-Michel Cousteau—son of famed underwater explorer Jacques Cousteau—said, "I certainly don't think there's something to learn from someone swimming with a whale shark."
George Burgess, director of the Florida Program for Shark Research at the Florida Museum of Natural History in Gainesville, explained that whale sharks, “which roam hundreds of miles in the wild, already are stressed by their confinement … And they are likely to be harmed further by close proximity to humans—and by potential exposure to germs exotic to them.
“It'd be the equivalent of you being in a bedroom for the rest of your life after having had the ability to walk around freely,” Burgess said. “And then having 20 people come join you in your personal space every so often.”
The venues that host such programs are desperately trying to raise money for their admirable awareness efforts. But if you really care about the creatures, why not just donate the money directly to the facility? Why make them suffer through a half-hour of your presence just because you’re willing to pay $190 for their time?
If you’d like to support compassionate conservation of marine creatures, send a donation to the Georgia Aquarium with a note that says “Let’s love the whale sharks from a distance. Please stop the ‘Swim with Gentle Giants’ program.” Here’s the address: Georgia Aquarium, c/o Albert A. George II, Director of Education, 225 Baker Street, Atlanta, GA 30313.
SP