Two Is Enough: On Joy, Grief, and Tahlequah

In August of 2018, I wrote about J035 (“Tahlequah”) on the sixteenth straight day she was carrying the body of her dead calf throughout the Salish Sea.

At the same time the world was witnessing this profound display of grief, scientists were developing a plan to feed and medicate another J-Pod calf (J050, or “Scarlet”), who was gravely ill.

Tahlequah would continue to carry her daughter’s body for one more day before letting her slip beneath the waves in the quiet darkness of a new moon. The extraordinary and unprecedented attempts to save Scarlet's life were ultimately not successful. Exactly one month later, when the night sky was once again at its darkest, Scarlet took her last breaths.

In 2020, at a time when it felt as though the whole world was clinging to every bit of good news we could possibly find, Tahlequah gave birth to a healthy calf, J057 (“Phoenix”). This marked the first time the birth of a Southern Resident Killer Whale calf made such widespread, international news. We had witnessed and remembered her grief, and we had been waiting to celebrate her joy.

To care for the Southern Resident Killer Whales is to find familiarity in a constant cycle of joy and grief — a pattern echoed in the natural world through billions of iterations each and every day. Where there is death, there has been life. Where there is grief, there has been love. Where there is profound loss, there has been profound joy.

The wheel of joy and grief turned once again the eve of this past Winter Solstice, when Tahlequah was observed travelling with a newborn calf (J061). Excitement quickly made way for concern, as the calf was not thriving as expected. Days later, under another moonless sky, Tahlequah lost another daughter.

The calf's death was confirmed on the last day of 2024 — the same day the birth of another calf (J062) was also announced.

Life. Death. Love. Grief. Joy. Loss.

In 2018, I reflected on the Cherokee (ᏣᎳᎩ ᎦᏬᏂᎯᏍᏗ) meaning of the name Tahlequah:

"The name “Tahlequah” was given to J035 shortly after her birth in 1998. The Cherokee meaning of the name (derived from the word Ta'ligwu) translates to “two is enough.” Today, we’re seeing how true that is. Two is enough to make a world of difference. The story of a mother and her daughter — who lived for less than an hour — and that mother’s powerful protest of grief, may just be enough to save another."

For a brief moment that summer, it really did feel as though Tahlequah might generate just enough global awareness and outrage to see meaningful action taken on both sides of the border, ensuring the survival of the 75 remaining Southern Resident Killer Whales.

I regret to say it was not enough.

Today, with the loss of J061 and the birth of J062, there are only 73 Southern Resident Killer Whales remaining, and Tahlequah is once again carrying the body of another dead daughter in an all-too-familiar act of grief.

We are not just witnessing their acts of grief, we are witnessing the final act of the Southern Resident Killer Whales' existence. If we can recognize that, surely they must feel it.

Tahlequah's message is clear. It's time to listen, and respond: Two Is Enough.