Fading Into The Waves

In 2017, we watched 10-month-old (J054) Dipper being held afloat by his sister and cousin, his final moments caught on camera as he starved to death - only weeks after his mother (J028) Polaris met the same fate.

On this week in 2018 we watched (J035) Tahlequah carry the body of her dead calf for 17 days in front of cameras - a tour of grief that would ultimately bring global awareness to the plight of the Southern Resident Killer Whales like never before.

Today, we watched what are presumed to be 35-year-old (K021) Cappuccino’s final moments caught on camera - shockingly emaciated, his ribs visible, dorsal fin collapsed, barely able to keep afloat.

After an unprecedented 100+ day absence, members from all three pods returned to the Salish Sea for a few short hours before heading out to unfamiliar seas once again - this time with one less member of their family among them.

Although their time spent in the Salish Sea has become increasingly infrequent, members of all three pods will still occasionally reunite in what is known as a “Superpod” event.

Several of the most recently documented superpods have coincided with the birth of a new calf (as was the case for the birth of J35's daughter). I'd like to think this is their way of coming together to celebrate new life, much like we do.

Perhaps this week’s long-awaited superpod was a way for them to come together and to bring Cappuccino to his home waters one last time.

With each passing day that meaningful environmental and political action is not taken, we are quite literally watching the final moments of an ecotype play out for us on camera.

The Southern Residents - J054, J028, J035, K021 and dozens more - have given us opportunity after opportunity to painfully and thoroughly document their demise so that the generations that come after us see exactly how we failed them.

One by one, the Southern Resident Killer Whales are fading into the waves.

It didn't have to be this way.