Mass Stranding of 99 Pilot Whales #2

During the three days of the whale stranding, I have experienced every emotion at every degree. Writing about it now that I am placid and well rested seems strange.

Day One:
Monday brings a mid morning drive on a beautiful summers day, from Collingwood to Takaka. As I head into town I notice the high tide lapping below the road but it was different, a spring tide perhaps. A strange feeling came over me as I drove, could it be a day with optimum conditions for a whale stranding? As I winded along the road I thought to myself how interesting it was that I had got back into a lifestyle of adrenaline. In the sense, if there were to be another stranding this summer, it would be a rush to pack and head back to the Spit. In the meantime, I enjoyed the lush winding road.


When I heard there was another whale stranding, I was surprisingly calm. This could be due to the fact that we have already been to one, we were prepared, and I thought I knew what to expect. An important note to make is that we only caught the end of the previous stranding. Regardless of what I thought I knew, and what I thought I was prepared for, this was to become a lesson in human behavior.

Discussions about our film and whales stranding with a local...goosebumps...it was happening!

At approximately noon I received several txt messages in Takaka, now this area has appalling reception despite being the main town. Stranding...apparently? From Sara at first, I thought how come I have not received a txt or phone call from Project Jonah...arrgghh reception! Right, I missioned out of the supermarket and was trying to co-ordinate what was going on before driving. This proved very frustrating thus I drove! It was quite amusing really, being this close to the action and being one of the last to know.

We packed the car with our cameras, wetsuits, and confidence. Soon we arrived at Farewell Spit, the notorious location for whale strandings.

We hit the Spit, wetsuits on, cameras cued - ready to rock! The head of the DOC team said: “oh you don't need wetsuits, YET!”, after wiggling our way into them we weren't taking them off! In the end, we were happy to have them half on, we got very wet and this isolated place generally has wind.

We stepped onto a bus that could drive us to the end of the Spit, where the whales were stranded. The bus was full of volunteers that gave up their day to take on the extraordinary effort of rescuing whales.

A 7km ride on the sand highway bought us to tails and whales everywhere, 99 was the figure, what a sight.

We reached the location with our cameras ready to go. For ourselves, however, it took a minute to take in the scene. I stood there, trying to convince myself that this was reality. My brain, on the other hand, was telling me that this is an anomaly since all I have told it is that whales swim in the water. To see a whale, or in this case 99 whales, laying on the beach, just doesn't seem right. By this time, the other volunteers from the bus rushed over to the whales. We started filming.

I positioned myself in the middle of the tragedy. There seemed to be so much going on, I had the feeling of not knowing where to start, so the middle seemed like a good place. I took a few shots, then turned around to check out what was happening behind me. Just then, a whale thrashed itself upward, vomiting. That was the last time I was shocked at the sights I saw those few days. I had moments of uncertainty of the ethics involved. These were quickly diminished because I knew our film will show what people are capable of, and in this case, it is for something honorable.

It was a question that was tossed back and forth: would we help the whales as well, or step back as sole filmmakers. Since we only had one camera between us (besides our go pro), that answered that question. After some time, I handed the camera over to Vanessa, then started helping.

There seemed to be a shortage of people until after 5, maybe they had work or didn't hear until then. But each whale that was still alive was receiving first aid. We filmed and helped. Rotating our duties.

So exactly what is happening? Right now the whales are stuck on land until high tide comes in, which then, hopefully, they can be pushed back into the sea, living happily ever after. Until then, we have to keep them cool from the sun. To do this, sheets are wrapped around their body and the volunteers fill buckets of water to pour on them.

I grabbed a bucket, filled it with water, and started pouring it over the whales. I'm not going to lie, I was a bit nervous to be that close to a whale. It was close enough to see their individual markings that look like paint chipping off steal. It was close enough to see their bloodshot eyes, from what, we could only guess. And it was close enough to smell their putrid odor as they shot a breath out of their blowhole. As I was standing as far from the whale as I could, while still being able to pour the water on her, Vanessa commented how the whale was being very responsive, and would look at me as I helped her. She asked if I touched one yet. I hadn't. I bent down, and set my hand against the skin of the whale as she looked at me. It made me recall an oversized bouncy ball that I won from a fair. That night, we had played with the ball in the living room. My sister accidentally punctured the ball with her nail. It deflated and was put in the trash the next morning. I'm sure these whales are just as fragile.


Perhaps it was the sheer mass of whales or the baby ones that pulled on the heartstrings a bit more. We made sure we got plenty of insurance shots and creative ones. The baby whales were so vocal and active. I found it worthwhile to stop every now and then, to just walk away from it all to take it  in. Also this was a great angle for wide shots, even squelched up the sand dunes for a different perspective. Sara and I were working very well as a film crew and whale medic team. I could sense Sara was a bit nervous at first as to how close to get to the whales. That prompted many questions for me, I wonder if they actually liked us touching, rolling and talking to them. I guess that question will never be answered as such. So Sara and I sang to them, it was as much for the whales as it was for keeping our spirits up too, Andrew Lloyd Webber would have been proud.

There were many children helping, buckets and sheets lying everywhere. The water we were scooping up was rank to say the least, it was draining down the beach past sick and dead whales pooling in the dug out holes, ready for use I wondered if the whales could sense the death around them, even through the water. I thought about whale transmitted diseases into the cuts I had acquired that day. I also thought what a weird thing it was that humans now helped whales after all those years of slaughter in this country, until relatively recently.

If the whales are on their side, they have to be pushed upright. We did this by digging away some sand on the side we were pushing toward. Then with as many people as we could fit along the body of the whale, we pushed, and pushed, until the creature was upright. Sand bags were placed on our side to keep the whale from slipping back down. I helped push a couple whales upright. I put in all the force I could manage, but we might as well been pushing against a rubbery wall.  More people were called in to help, and the whales miraculously moved. I filmed a few men that walked around and pushed each whale who was on their side to the right position. They walked as men with a mission, with unspeakable power and stamina.

The day went on like this, half filming, half helping. High tide wasn't coming in till 11 that night. Night time rescuing can be a little dangerous so everyone had to be off the beach by 8pm. The whales were left to their own fates. There was hope that once high tide came in, they would orient themselves, and swim off.

Time flew by and as the blistering sun did just that to the whales skin we found the day was drawing to a close. Many had died, some quietly, some with vigour trying to move on the beach, some vomiting. The whale I seemed to spend most of the time with was the only one facing the correct way, we aptly named him/her “Pilot” of the Pilot whales. The local iwi did their blessings shy of the camera. The beach was closed at 8pm just as the light was golden we got a few shots and they allowed us to leave last, DOC are amazing. The high tide was 11pm there was hope that they might reorientate and float themselves off the beach that night.

We went home physically and mentally exhausted. You think we would just crash and fall right to sleep. That didn't happen. As I twisted around the bed, I could hear Vanessa tossing as well.

Day 2:
7:30am we received a text from Project Jonah that the whales had restranded.

The morning revealed the whales had restranded. The numbers are a blur but some had died and others were still hanging on.

Our morning copied that of the day before. But now we had a late morning high tide to look forward to. It would be another chance to push the whales back to sea. I had a wetsuit on, and a splash bag for the camera. We were ready to go. Optimism hovered in the air. Everything seemed to happen very quickly. The tide came in, and volunteers directed the whales out.

Refloat time again, which was at the next high tide about 11am. All I remember was how quick the tide came in. There was lots of yelling and pushing of whales. There was a human chain formed that was like a semi-circle trying to force the whales out to deeper water.

The volunteers stood with their chins up, their pride seeping into the water, pleased with the work they had done. 

Hooorah! Well at least a small one they were swimming off though erratically. Most people were cold including myself, the wind was noticeable, and we were chest height. Standing like a bunch of wizards “you shall not pass!” If only that magic was accessible.

Eventually, we were called to come back to shore.

Just as all looked well, we returned to the beach for some food, battery change, and a breather.

The situation was now left to the two boats herding the whales to deeper water. No matter how much they tried, the whales were not swimming farther out. And just as the tide rapidly came in, it also rapidly flowed out, leaving the whales behind.

Suddenly, that high tide disappeared and then they restranded right infront of us.

We ran over to start first aid once more.

Back to the first aid. Panic/politics and whale stranding all at once, thank god new volunteers turned up we jumped at our chance to exit.

I was with a very stressed juvenile whale that calmed down once we moved her next to an adult. I wasn't sure if I could go through another round of this again. Soon, a bus full of fresh volunteers were dropped off. A woman came up to me and asked if I needed to be relieved. "YES," I said.

The afternoon passed as we cleaned and recharged camera batteries and our own too. Night fell.

We left the beach still trying to hold onto the diminishing sense of optimism left hanging in the air.

Day 3:
7:30am text message whales have again restranded.

07:30 restrand more dead, some still alive?

It felt as if I was in the movie Groundhog Day with everything once again repeating itself. However, this time, optimism was replaced with stress and fatigue.

Deja vu, we refloat the 30 odd whales.

The high tide once more surged in.  The whales were again pushed out, and the human chain formed. This time though, everything seemed to move a bit slower, and we stayed in the water with the whales longer, inching them away. We soon hit a point where we couldn't touch the sea floor. I managed a doggie paddle, while holding the camera. I saw Vanessa popping in and out with her snorkel, getting underwater shots with the go pro camera.

Swimming in deep water this time. In one sense, I was in my element and just loving it, but then these creatures were unwell so sad at the same time. I had my mask and an extra wetsuit layer on. The water was silver on the surface, calm and clear great for shooting. Once the whales were way out past the low tide level, we were in water over our heads. Fatigue was kicking in for me after about 6 hours being in the water. My need for food was very strong. I had already swam/jogged back to the beach to renew one camera battery. Just as Sara and I were about to head back to the beach, we were told we could all get towed back by one of the boats. This was nothing new to me except the boat was small and slow, plus a lot of people attached. This became quite tiresome to hold on to

Change, we were towed back out to sea as whales were coming back in. I know my limits and I was pretty close. There were many people in the water whom were older and considerably less comfortable and fit, I wondered how they were managing. The whales were moving freely. Most people were running on empty. A small group of us stuck together. I found it amazing that we were all just left out there, who knows how many were in or got out. I struggled with this concept for a while, as I was used to doing head counts, however, it was not my responsibility. DOC provided a lift and food on the beach. We took the bus back to our car. The whales were given the best chance possible that was all we could do.

The pod seemed to be making progress. We went home, absentmindedly cleaned our gear, and went to bed.

Day 4:
The whales had restraned, and were euthanized.

The next day the news notified us of the euthanasia. 82 in total that week had perished, 17 made it. The digger had a busy job dragging them up the beach. A few autopsies could shed some light on this event.  It was only later on that we found out that of those 17 survivors, none were from the previous days efforts.

This may seem like a sad story, and for those whales it is. Not every stranding ends this way. The volunteers did what they could, and they will do what they can for the next one. That is all we are able to manage.

Reflecting upon this week, at what point is it about the humans and not the whales? Rest.

How Did We Miss the Whales Before?

Monday brings an interview with the CEO of Project Jonah at the Golden bay lookout. DOC has had a debrief over the whale stranding. We more importantly recover our tarpaulin from DOC who think us a tad strange for wanting it back so much but all in good fun, very useful things you know. Golden Bay area returns to its normal colourful self. We head back to the Spit, it feels like ages ago we were here.

Our next mission was to film the whale carcasses left on the beach, and what a mission that was. We weren't sure of the exact location, but figured whales can't be that hard to find. Well they are. Granted, other, much smaller creatures were grabbing our attention.

We start filming cut aways the weather is similar to the day of the stranding as is the tide. We have been informed that the whale carcasses will not be buried as this process just allows for oil slumps to form under the sand. They are left in the open for mother nature to clean up, apparently in the sand dunes.

We came up to an entrance into the sand dunes, and decided to try our luck searching in there. We ended with, walking up and sliding down, searching for the whales. It was late in the day, and still very hot. The sand was scorching as well. Did I mention we left our shoes in the car? I felt like a circus performer walking on fire. I thought I saw the whales so I ran off, away from Vanessa. I looked all around where they should have been, but could not find them. I thought great, I'm seeing mirages, and now I got myself lost. But I heard Vanessa, we reunited, and continued on.

Hours of walking later and still no sign of whale carcasses sounds hard to believe, I know. We hit the slopes of the white sand dunes so picturesque but SO hot on my bare feet! I struggled with this cooking feeling to my soles.

We walked as far as allowed. There was nothing else to do but turn around and think about how we could have missed the whales.

Eventually we were tired and headed back only to catch sight of a black moving cloud of flies and strong rotting smell.

As we were walking back, we were suddenly hit with the most fetid smell. We slowly turned our heads toward a blanket of flies, and we knew the whales must be hidden behind the trees. How we missed this spot before,
who knows.

How could we have missed that before? Easily we were a few metres further down the beach.

It took a very long minute to coax ourselves to walk threw the flies and film what we needed. I won't go into details, but we got the shots fast, running out of there just as fast. It is an interesting thing to see. It is only a part of nature. It is an example of what happens when whales cannot be saved.

Enough said the whales were semi exploding, juices gurgling & flies a hovering. The flies were amazing moving like a Mexican wave up and down the beach. The stench was super ripe and rancid but we got our shots and ran! Whoever said wildlife filmmaking was glamorous! We gagged our way back home. Grateful that it was only 7 that had died.

The footage that we shot will of course be handled tastefully, but exactly what that means is still to be deciphered.    

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Tuesday was our day off we decided we had earned it. Beach walks and seeing the sights of Takaka. We head in for a screening of silent antics in the evening, Buster and Charlie kept us entertained, Sara was loving it!

I love Charlie Chaplin. That statement may seem like it has nothing to do with our film. Whale strandings isn't exactly slap stick comedy. But Charlie was a man who could do it all. He would get himself in a working mindset: writing, directing, and acting. He's an idle of mine so when we saw a flyer for a showing of silent films on the green, we had to go. Finally a relaxing night.   


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Wednesday:

Wednesday we found information and internet at the Takaka library. Strangely enough we bumped into Charlie, a photo opp for Sara. Time to do some research and relaxing on the beach. The weather turned and we retired for the evening.

Stranding #1

January 6, 2012

10:10PM

"A stranding has occurred on Farewell Spit, Golden Bay. We need volunteers at Triangle Flat 7 am tomorrow morning. Text back YES if you can attend. Take wetsuits."

When I received this text from Project Jonah, I was in my pj's, watching TV, winding down for bed. I froze. This was the text we've been waiting for. A text that indicates an opportunity to film the rescue of whales, the basis of our film. I text Vanessa, she then called me, and we exclaimed about the chance. 

22:40 I read my txt messages Sara: “did you get that txt!” & the one from Project Jonah. This was followed by many frantic phone calls to Sara in Dunedin and Kim from Project Jonah to get more details.

Of course I had to go. We had to go. The big question at this point was how I was getting to Christchurch, where Vanessa was living, and when I could I arrive there. Buses were finished for the night. The first flight was at 7am the next day. Not soon enough. I text a friend of mine. He said he would be there shortly. My adrenaline peaked, going to bed was the last thing on my mind now. I ran around the house, threw my suitcase open, started washing dishes, threw a few pieces of clothing in the suitcase, washed some more dishes, threw some books in the suitcase, dumped the rubbish outside, and continued to bounce around the house until my friend showed up. By 11pm we were on the road to Christchurch.

There were no buses or flights to ChCh until the next day, this just wouldn't do – Thankfully a fellow Scicommer began the journey of driving Sara to ChCh.


It became Saturday at some point. Meanwhile I was checking all the cameras and packing somewhat bewildered that it was ACTUALLY happening! A bit of an adrenaline kick as I try to organize myself. Especially since in just one week we were planning on being up there! Nevertheless I finalized with the help of siblings everything into the trusty Subaru Impreza otherwise known as “Roo”. Cheers Marshall clan and ciao!
    Right at about 1am I decided since I will be the solo driver for this mission I should get some sleep. Rumble-shake-bang! Another 5.5 earthquake rocks me awake more adrenalin...followed by the household waking including petrified newly Dubai emigrated dog that has trouble understanding these crazy quakes – poor pooch. Eventually after a few minor wiggles I fall to sleep. I fumble my phone Sara is ringing she has made it to ChCh...eventually making it to my house – GOOD JOB!
    We fumble the extra luggage into Roo, say goodbye to Papa and the dog who are both awake at 5ish and head north on a mission, to film a mass whale stranding and help where we can.
    Driving like a woman possessed I had a moment of indecisiveness fueled by lack of sleep when we turned off (Picton) highway north towards Hanmer (Lewis Pass) 5 mins later I was like...are we going the right way? Sara of course is on a maiden voyage to these parts so it was up to my memory which needed caffeine and sleep...then I saw the Lewis pass sign and all was well! Driving...driving...MUST sleep...driving STOP pull over at Maruia Waterfall zzzzzzzz 08:00 deep sleep 30mins wake up and we are off again...Murchison! MUCH needed coffee & muffin at the little hotel... amusingly enough a whale is pictured on the toilets. Roo got its juice too.

 
Feeling reborn after my fix we head endlessly north. All the while motivated by the somewhat solemn notion that no matter how hard this day is going to be for me its nothing compared to what a beached whale is going through right now.

Takaka hill done, rolled into Takaka grabbed some food and kept on driving, meanwhile whales had been re-floated in high tide which was at 9. We arrive at the spit at 13:00 yaaay! 
  
Half asleep and losing my sense of time, we finally arrived at Farewell Spit at 1pm. Project Jonah volunteers did an amazing job caring for the whales and pushing them back to sea. Now it was time to keep the whales from restranding. There were people from DOC, Project Jonah, and now the filmmakers added to the mix.


Right then we grab our cameras wetsuits a ride with D.O.C. (Department of Conservation) abut 5km until we reach the re-floated whales – along the way an airy sight 2 pilot whales dragged to the top of the beach to be buried, what a surreal sight, really sad yet intriguing they don't look real in a way, poor things. Most of the people there had been trying to save them since 7am so they saw it happen to us it was a wee shock of reality.
 
We hitched a ride with DOC (the Department of Conservation) to the boats that were being used to herd the whales out farther. On the way we passed the whales that did not make it, and were being taken to their resting place. My heart staggered. This is serious. This could happen to the other whales if they restrand, or if Project Jonah and DOC were not here to help save them.   


We wait patiently and we are are allowed onto the small vessels trying to keep the whales from re-stranding. The problem is the sand shelf goes on for ages! The aim was to get them as close to Separation point.

We eventually boarded one of the two boats being used to guide the whales away from the bay. It was an intense effort since for some reason once they were close to heading in the right course, they would get turned around, and needed to be reorientated again. 

The mood on the boat was really friendly and professional. The day of filming and getting very close to 16 frolicking pilot whales draws to a close at 19:30.


Eventually, they managed to swim in the right direction, and it was called a day. The whales swam off, never to be seen again (which is a good thing). Whales saved, filming accomplished, sleep finally to be had.

We are very thankful excited and just plain exhausted! In our dazed state we drive back in Takaka, luckily a lovely person we spent the afternoon with puts us up on there couch & floor and we end up at an amazing house where everyone is just fantastic we eat and trundle home to attempt to sleep...full well knowing the whale could re-strand in the morning so we have to charge batteries and prepare for the next day.
    
Sunday we arose at 9 sort of rested from a restless sleep probably because my body still needs to purge some adrenaline. A quick check of my phone no txt YES the whales have not re-stranded and we can relax, sigh. We pack up and try to find some accommodation, we hit the excellent Wholemeal cafe of Takaka find a flyer for accommodation in Para para, thats us sorted a place to stay for a week. The rest of the day is a bit of a blur we are happy to eat and sleep.