For Pet's Sake Column

With its abundance of shopping, surf, and sunshine, San Diego , California offers residents and visitors alike a cornucopia of things to see and do. But beneath the sunny surface of “ America ’s Finest City ” lurks a dark secret and it goes by the name of SeaWorld.

For a mere $53.00 per person ($43.00 for children under 10 years of age), you and your family can spend the day gawking at captive cetaceans. The park entices visitors with promotional ploys like: “Come. Experience. Believe.” I’m puzzled by what the advertising folks mean by “believe,” but believe me, this adventure park is an ocean away from being the warm and fuzzy family entertainment joint it portrays itself to be.

Case in point: During a recent afternoon performance, a 17-foot long, 5,000 pound orca named Kasatka grabbed veteran trainer Ken Peters by the foot and held him at the bottom of the pool in which the pair were swimming. Kasatka did this not once, but twice, before other trainers jumped in with nets to calm the worked-up whale. After the incident, marine mammal experts were quoted as saying, “Some days, killer whales just wake up on the wrong side of the pool.” Hmmm, it all sounds a bit fishy to me.

Who could blame Kasatka for being a bit petulant at her predicament? After all, the 30-year-old cetacean was captured as an infant off the coast of Iceland and sent to SeaWorld to live a life that was about as foreign to her as, well, Iceland is to us. Trainers contend that they are not certain what caused Kasatka to snap, but it seems like an open and shut case to me: Kasatka was fed up with the daily grind of following her trainer’s commands and she let him know – in a very gentle way I might add – that his demands were about as welcome as a Navy sonar test. Peters suffered a broken foot that day, but I’m sure Kasatka endured a far worse injury: a broken heart.

It is an act of heartlessness to wrench these awe-inspiring animals away from their families and subject them to an empty existence of performing repetitive, demeaning tricks simply for our entertainment. Words cannot fully describe the intelligence, awareness, power, beauty, and complexity of the orca. In the wild, they live in tightly-bonded pods and the calves, who stay with their mothers for life, have ample opportunity to learn the language, social structure, and cultural traditions. Each orca community has a different language or dialect, much like we do. Orcas can swim up to 30 mph and travel 75-100 miles a day. At SeaWorld and similar venues, orcas like Kasatka swim in endless circles in small, barren concrete tanks. Not surprisingly, a captive orca’s lifespan is far shorter than that of a free orca.

These ambassadors of the sea deserve a far better life than we are currently offering them. Let’s make some waves by refusing to patronize theme parks where animals are forced to perform for our pleasure.

To learn more about orcas, visit www.orcanetwork.org. To send a note to SeaWorld, visit www.seaworld.com.

What are your thoughts on orcas and other cetaceans in captivity? Email your responses to Karen at karenleestevens@cox.net.