Whale, whale, whale, what do we have here? An orca trapped in a concrete bowl: I would call it inhumane and depressing, but others may call it entertainment. SeaWorld Orlando certainly sells entertainment, as evidenced by their 5.1 million guests annually. They would not have the tenth most visited amusement park in the United States and nineteenth worldwide if the guests did not think they would have a great time (Kondoljy 2016).   The reason for the timeless tourism and the satisfied smiles? It is the “family-friendly killer” whales. As a young child sits in the stands and listens to the music, she anticipates how soaked her clothes will get when an eight ton orca shoots out like a cannon from the water, and she dreams of being the trainer who gets to work with these creatures every day. However, as she grows older and more mature, she starts to wonder why their dorsal fin collapses and why they attack their trainers. Happiness has turned to fear, and passion has turned to hatred, for not only the girl, but for the whale too. So why continue to jeopardize not only the lives of the trainers, but also the well-being of the orcas? Why create a restrictive and submissive environment for creatures that physically and mentally need more? These majestic mammals need some kind of rehab and release: they should be allowed to live out their lives in a better environment, instead of suffering anxiety in a concrete bowl. 

To begin with, I am not a whale trainer or marine biologist, nor do I study psychology. However, I do own a dog and have had one since the day I came home from the hospital, swaddled in a blanket. I understand the importance of a human to animal connection, and I value the safety and sanity of their lives. What I fail to see at SeaWorld, is this same connection between trainer and orca. Shouldn’t the relationship deepen and develop because of genuine love? And not because the trainer is the sole source of food? Regardless of the trainer’s personal inclinations for wanting to work with whales, they are required by their employment to treat the orcas as a sort of livestock to be taught tricks in exchange for a snack. And since killer whales are apex predators, they generally feed on other sea mammals every week, but in the SeaWorld parks, orcas are fed the same frozen-thawed fish every day (Robertson 2014). Now you may be thinking, what about when I give my dog a treat for sitting, lying, or (for those extremely stubborn dogs) coming when they are called; does that mean my furry friend only loves me because I cease her stomach growling and satisfy her sweet tooth? No of course not! And I’ll prove that to you now with an event that occurred in the late 1970’s and early 1980’s. 

During this time, SeaWorld San Diego rotated recently captured orcas through its dolphin petting pool, allowing the visitors to interact with them. The time spent together not only relieved the orcas of their boredom, but also provided them with genuine affection and attention (“Exploring the Cetacean-Human Relationship”). Being as social as Kim Kardashian at any publicity event ever, killer whales will happily engage and entertain anyone they encounter.  So, since orcas “display a range of complex behaviors indicative of social intelligence” they were free to explore the visitor’s nature, and vice versa, without the agendas of training or performances, allowing an organic relationship to develop (Anderson, Waayers, & Knight, 2016). However, since the relationship between trainer and orca is formed based on a commercial purpose, it is not one that is free to develop according to the orca’s true nature. Being subservient to another being puts the whales in an unnatural and biologically frustrating position since they are apex predators in their natural environment. So while you may provide your dog with kibble and the trainer may provide their whale with fish, the relationships are drastically different when it comes to an emotional connection. While you are scratching your dog’s belly after a long day at work, the trainers are patting their orca’s nose after successfully performing a trick. While you are snuggled up with your dog in bed, the trainers are asleep in a spacious room while the whales sleep in a tank. Your dog forms a genuine friendship. Their whales form a commercial partnership. 

Now imagine your everyday life: wake up, work, hang with friends, come home, sleep. All average activities found in the average American. However, one day, you are kidnapped, put in a small room with people who come from totally different cultures and speak totally different languages and told you are to spend the rest of your life there. Drastic? Yes. Realistic? No. But this is exactly what it is like when you take a 20-foot-long orca out of the open ocean and place them into a tank that is only 36 feet deep with completely new orcas (“AskSeaWorld - Habitat/Killer Whale Tanks”). You can only imagine the physical damage and emotional trauma the whales experience after being put in, essentially, a bathtub for entertainment. However, in a 1997 interview with two of SeaWorld’s corporate employees, they would disagree with SeaWorld being a destination for entertainment, but rather a place of education (McBain & Andrews, 1997). A place where humans can interact with the fascinating fish and the majestic mammals of the deep blue sea that we would never be able to witness otherwise. Especially when we possess uber high-tech technology that allows us to see aspects of the world that were once unknown or unreachable. Who needs Animal Planet when we have SeaWorld, right? 

However, if SeaWorld was intended to be as educational as the corporate employees claim, they would be honest about how different the lives are of their whales compared to wild whales. From their fins, to their fights, to their families, from their teeth to their tanks, these killer whales are forced to tolerate problems they would never come across in the wild. SeaWorld claims that a collapsed dorsal fin is a common occurrence in wild killer whales, when, in fact, it is often a sign of injury or unhealthiness. The connective tissue present in the fin begins to deteriorate because it is not experiencing the same intense water pressure or obtaining the same essential nutrients as in the wild (Henn 2016). Instead of perpetuating a myth, they need to embrace the reality of a life in captivity. 

Lacking space, natural diets, freedom, a lengthy life, and a social pod, it makes sense that the killer whales at SeaWorld have thrashed out. They are psychologically traumatized. Wouldn’t you be too if you were trapped in a bathtub for twenty years? Being as intelligent as Aristotle, Albert Einstein, and Stephen Hawking combined, killer whales become bored incredibly easily due to the lack of stimulation and socialization they experience in their tanks (Henn 2016). Boredom that leads to aggression. Aggression that leads to violence. Violence that is not only put towards the other orcas, but also the whale trainers. Many captive orcas have cuts on their sides, resembling rake marks on a baseball field, from other whales dragging their teeth along the other’s skin (Henn 2016).  The injuries they experience in the tank leads to subsequent aggression directed towards their trainers. However, despite their ferocious name, killer whales do not exhibit this same aggression towards humans in the wild. The kicker is that there has been only a single reliable report of an orca harming a human being in the wild, while orcas have attacked and killed three humans in captivity since 1991 (Henn 2016). 

So now what? 

SeaWorld has said that “the killer whales currently in our care will be the last generation of killer whales at SeaWorld” (“Last Generation”). So, they will prevent future whales from living this loathsome life, but what about the ones STILL there? Some say release ‘em, some say keep ‘em, but SeaWorld stresses that “these orcas have never lived in the wild and could not survive in the ocean,” so again I ask, now what (“Last Generation”)? 

What I, animal rights activists, welfare organizations, and frankly anyone interested in this issue from the animal’s perspective recommend, are sea pen sanctuaries. A large space in the ocean, most likely in a bay or a cove, that is enclosed by nets that allows the whales to “experience the currents and swim and dive and interact with other ocean animals” (Goodman 2015). A space where the whales are free to roam and encouraged to wander, still with the assistance of human care. The sea sanctuaries offer the orcas a way for them to return to some semblance of a natural life while still receiving care and offering an education to visitors who wish to watch a whale in the wild water. Even after the whales are gone, the sea pens can be used as a “rehabilitation facility for injured whales that are rescued out in the wild” (Rose 2015). So what could be wrong with this?

From budget to breeding, from toxins to the tide, SeaWorld seems to have thought up every possible excuse to keep the whales in their tubs. With the cost of building the pens and staffing them with qualified caretakers, SeaWorld claims the price is too high and building the pens is too hard. I, however, disagree and believe SeaWorld could easily use their $12.5 million income and their platform to encourage visitor donations to construct the pens (Kondolojy 2017). With respects to breeding, experts have said the idea of captive whales breeding in the wild is about as good as an idea of driving blindfolded. So, easy solution. Place the male and female whales in separate pens. It may not be the most fair solution, but at the end of the day, it’s better than living in a bathtub. As far as potential ocean toxins, SeaWorld’s chief veterinarian, Chris Dold, claims the sea pens would expose the orcas to viruses captive whales have never endured (Masunaga 2016). I’m going to go off on a limb and say wild whiles have, probably, never experienced the same stress, anxiety, and illness captive whales have faced. So, SeaWorld’s staff has already had to accommodate to the health obstacles the whales experience in captivity. So, how would treating the whales with the proper medicine in a sea pen be worse than treating the whales in their tanks? Finally, SeaWorld and SeaWorld supporters have said the pens will expose the orcas to harsh weather and harsh tides. Having already constructed a sea pen in the past and currently possessing advanced technology, SeaWorld can learn from their mistakes and construct a sea pen that allows the killer whales to thrive and survive in the “open” ocean (

While life in captivity leads to disastrous diets, fallen fins, and critical cuts, it also prompts unbearable boredom and aggravating aggression. Each injury provides perspective that time in a tank is not a life to be lived. I encourage you to put yourself into their fins, and realize how cruel and selfish it is to ignore the pain and suffering the orcas endure. They deserve to swim freely and happily in the “open” ocean. Like the young clownfish in 2003’s Finding Nemo, it is time for the killer whales to “just keep swimming.” 
