Lolita

Orcas (also known as killer whales) are truly magnificent beings. In the wild, they live in close-knit matriarchal pods, remaining close to their family members all their lives. The bonds of love these animals share run deep: a recent, heartwarming case of an orca pod who helped their disabled brother to survive demonstrates this very clearly. The disabled orca’s family members supplied him with food, as he was unable to fend for himself. In cases where wild orcas have been documented interacting with humans, they are surprisingly gentle (given their “killer” nickname), choosing to peacefully swim around them. There has never been a documented case of an orca killing a human in the wild.
These animals can travel up to 100 miles per day in the company of their pod members. The brain of an orca is four times larger than a human brain, while the brain lobes that deal with the processing of complex emotions are also more sizeable in these animals than they are in humans. They have been evolving for millions of years, in comparison, modern humans only arrived on the scene around 200,000 years ago, so it is safe to assume that they are at least as cognitively advanced as we are … if not more so!
Every captive orca in the world has a tragic story to tell … but few are more tragic than that of Lolita. She was captured as a baby in Puget Sound, off the coast of Washington State, in August 1970, and has spent most of her life at Miami Seaquarium, trapped in the smallest orca tank in North America. Her capture was especially brutal, involving nets, ropes, and explosives. Lolita’s family fought hard to save her: locals said they could hear terrible, human-like screams emanating from the waters throughout. During the fight, one adult, and four baby orcas were killed. The men who had instigated the capture slit the victims’ throats and filled their bodies with rocks in an effort to disguise what they had done.
For thirty-six years, Lolita has been held in isolation at Miami Seaquarium … but she still remembers the particular calls and sounds that were made by her family, known within whale watching circles as L25 subpod. For years, animal rights activists have argued that she should have the chance to be reunited with her family members – particularly her mother – and have even put together a detailed retirement plan that would allow her to prepare for this new life. Sadly, Miami Seaquarium has given no indications of being willing to consider releasing the long-suffering whale.

TEXT: One Green Planet