Shamu's tale

We just returned home from our annual week at the Hotel Del Coronado. It was our twelfth year, and in almost all of our past stays one of the most anticipated parts has been our visit to Sea World. The visit is usually driven by me, because I love the Shamu show and getting splashed.

What can I say? I'm easy that way.

But this year, we didn't go to Sea World. It was on the itinerary, until we decided to see the extraordinary documentary Blackfish. It's about the many trainers that've been injured or killed by these whales, and particularly Dawn Brancheau who was killed a few years ago at the park in Orlando by Tilikum, an orca that had already killed two people before it came to the park. Blackfish also speaks to the conditions that make the whales so aggressive: small tanks, ripped from their families, attacked by other whales in their pens, lack of food and more.

I won't run the litany of excellent points this film makes, but I will say this: it doesn't take a documentary to know that these beautiful creatures, who once had the run of the ocean and swam over a hundred miles a day are not enjoying the same quality of life in the small (for them) tanks at Sea World's Shamu Stadium.

Understandably, we don't see any of the mistreatment from the stands. Instead, we see the show, take the pictures then buy the stuffed Shamu dolls. I'm as guilty as the next person.

I find myself at a crossroads, because my feeling is that, like zoos, if you can't see these animals in person you can't get a genuine understanding of their beauty and grandeur. In my way of thinking, contradictory though it may be, the ability to see them in captivity makes me want to protect them more in the wild. That's the effect it has on me. So much so, I even wrote about it days after Dawn Brancheau's tragic death.

I don't know if I'll ever visit Sea World again. But I do know after seeing Blackfish, my involvement and contributions to organizations who protect and preserve these animals will be an ongoing commitment.