WDCS Fieldwork Blog

After dinner yesterday evening I was talking to our group about Keiko, the star of the Free Willy movie, who went on to become the most famous whale on the planet.

But Keiko’s story started long before the movie studios started calling. Because Keiko, you see, was a son of Iceland.

I’m in the privileged position to be out on the water most days watching these magnificent animals living life as nature intended, wild and free. Staring out across the fjord as a new family of orcas comes in from the north, I can’t help but ponder that this could be Keiko’s family. A fanciful thought maybe….

Very little was known about Icelandic orca society when Keiko was captured as a two year old in 1979. We know he was captured off the south coast of Iceland during the summer months and recently researchers have shown that the orcas seen off the south in the summer come here to Grundarfjordur on the west coast in the winter. Female orcas in the wild can live to 80 or 90 years so there is every chance that Keiko’s mum, along with all his siblings, are still somewhere out there today. So not such a fanciful thought after all.



I wonder what memory Keiko’s mum must have of that terrible day when her pod was captured in a fisherman’s net and she had her baby ripped from her side.

The minute Keiko was loaded on to the back of a truck his life was effectively over and for the next seventeen years he went from marine park to marine park travelling from Iceland to Canada and then finally on to Mexico where Warner Bros found their star. Warner Bros, incidentally, approached marine parks in the US and Japan but there was no way they were going to allow one of ‘their’ orcas to feature in any movie that portrayed marine parks as ‘whale jails’.

Free Willy became a huge hit but left fans of the movie deeply troubled when they found out that its real life star was still languishing in a small tank with chemically treated water causing his skin to become infected. For an animal that is used to spending all its time below sea level, the Mexico City park, at an altitude of 2,445 metres, presented Keiko with additional problems!

Never doubt, however, the power of public opinion. An increasingly vocal army of Keiko fans wondered out loud how amazing it would be if life could imitate art! Warner Bros soon realised they had a responsibility to Keiko and set up the Free Willy/Keiko Foundation with the aim of giving Keiko a chance at freedom.

Keiko was soon moved to a purpose-built facility in Oregon where he finally got to swim in natural sea water for the first time since leaving the ocean. He also learned to catch live fish and had the space for deep dives. His skin condition also cleared up - basically, he thrived!

The next stage was a move home to Iceland where he spent the next few years under the care of the Ocean Futures Society. Keiko was now in excellent health and was often taken out on ‘ocean walks’ where he interacted with wild Icelandic orca pods. On one such walk, in 2002, Keiko left the tracking boat behind and headed off with other orcas where he spent his time in and around these wild pods. He then took off across the North Atlantic on a thousand mile odyssey for the next 60 days without any food from humans. Keiko then headed due east to Norway where he followed a trawler into one of the fjords.

Keiko’s final days were spent in the Norwegian fjords where he was finally free to come and go as he pleased.

In December 2003, at the age of 26, he died of pneumonia. He was the second longest-lived captive orca in the world and his legacy was huge. He was testament to the fact that release of wild-born, captive orcas was not only possible but could be successful. The marine park industry were outraged and seriously concerned about the precedent Keiko set.

Keiko’s story raised awareness of the cruelty of removing these powerful, sentient animals out of their natural environment and condemning them to a life as a one-dimensional caricature in a concrete tank. Keiko was a trail blazer, a pioneer. His story was a world’s first and let’s hope, for the sake of the remaining 45 orcas still in captivity in the world today, it won’t be the last.

Last October I got a call from the Chief of Totoya Island (Roko Sau) letting me know that a whale had gotten stuck inside a lagoon near his island. I’d never been to the Lau Islands before yet had always heard lovely things about the clear waters and teeming marine life of this remote island group. Roko Sau (who also works for the Pacific Blue Foundation) was enthusiastic and managed to charm us a ride on a Super yacht thanks also to the support of Yacht Help Fiji. After a 15 hour ride I set my eyes on the stunning sight of beautiful and majestic Totoya. As we moved into the interior of the horse-shoe shaped island I scanned intently for any sign of the whale. Finally there was a blow but my heart sank as I realized that the whale was stuck inside a very small and shallow lagoon. We jumped into a skiff with the Super yacht crew and moved through the narrow S-shaped channel into the lagoon. I then saw the animal up close for the first time and confirmed it was a male, subadult humpback whale. He was in good condition … except of course for his current location within Vakamatuku lagoon. The lagoon had a maximum depth of around 16m and was just over 50m in diameter. The channel he had to exit through was only 6m deep, 10m wide and about 10m long. I watched him as he unknowingly swam past the small entrance. I felt anxious about his fate as it was the time of year when humpback whales should be beginning their southward migration to Antarctica in order to feed. Any energy he spent swimming around this lagoon would take away from the reserves needed for the 6-8 week swim south.

Over the course of the next week we tried a number of different strategies to move the whale (named by the villagers the 'Prince of Totoya') out of the lagoon. Firstly we used several small boats to try and slowly drive him into deeper waters. However whenever he got close to the entrance instead of investigating the coral reef to find the small channel he dove down and surfaced behind us. On another day we constructed a ‘fence’ made of vines and coconut leaves that we attempted to hang down into the ocean as a way of creating a visual barrier for the Prince. The villagers made a great effort to construct this underwater wall … but when it was put in the water it was difficult to make it sink straight down as we'd hoped. Adding to this concern were the additional boats needed to coordinate the movement of the fence. The whale seemed a little nervous and to our disappointment he again dove under our boats when we attempted to move him towards the opening. We made attempts on several other days but had no luck. We used our spare time on the island to visit primary schools, talk to villagers and community members, and speak with the elders. In such a small place as Totoya the visit of the whale was a big event and I took heart in seeing the interest and admiration for the animal. However my heart also grew heavier every day as I knew that if the whale didn't move out of the lagoon he would not survive. I departed Totoya feeling disappointed and as the year moved towards Christmas I found myself often wondering about the whale in Totoya.

And then … the New Year brought good news. Roko Sau visited Totoya for the festive season and so went to see the Prince again. Roko Sau told me he was surprised to see quite a striking change in the animal - his black shiny skin had turned whitish-grey in parts and he'd lost condition in his once robust body. In addition, the Roko noted some scratches near both his tail and head - likely from meeting the coral reef as he tried to find a way out.

Roko Sau told me he spoke softly to the whale and told him to leave and join his friends. On the following day he did just that! And, as the whale moved towards the open ocean he made several exuberant breaches just near Tovu village as if to say goodbye.

I would like to thank my wonderful hosts in Totoya for making me feel so welcome - and also extend my gratitude to the team that travelled with me including Major, Joe, Mosese, and Anare. Finally, I would especially like to extend my appreciation to Roko Sau for inviting me to spend some time in unforgettable Totoya.

When I arrived here at the end of January we were driving through the dark on our way from the airport to our hotel in Grundarfjörður. Just before we reached the village there was a distinctly fishy smell in the air as we drove across Kolgrafafjörður, a neighbouring fjord and one of the more predictable places to spot orcas. We were told that just before Christmas a mass mortality of herring had occurred where up to 30,000 tonnes of herring came ashore. To put this in perspective the entire national quota for landing Icelandic summer-spawning herring each year is in the region of 67,000 tonnes.



Nobody knows quite what happened but it may have something to do with the bridge that was built dissecting the fjord a few years ago. A long dyke was constructed either side of the fjord and the actual bridge that stands over the water is just a couple of hundred metres long, severely reducing the flow of water into and out of the inner fjord. It appears the waters have become anoxic i.e. depleted of dissolved oxygen, which is a phenomenon that occurs in areas where water exchange has been severely restricted.



Scientists from the Marine Research Institute in Reykjavik are currently here investigating the die-off and will try to pinpoint the exact cause of why thousands of tonnes of a commercially valuable fish such as herring have died of oxygen starvation. The only winners right now appear to be the birds – the white-tailed eagles, ravens and gulls are experiencing a bonanza!

Update: As I write this we are getting a second mass mortality of herring in the same fjord. This time we believe 10,000 tonnes may have come ashore on the 2nd February.

It is a truth universally acknowledged that if you don’t like the weather in Iceland you just need to wait five minutes and it will change completely.

And so it was after a wild and stormy night, the day dawned quiet and calm. Daybreak is a relative term and here on the Icelandic west coast in the winter the weak day light struggles to its feet by about 9:30 each morning. Spring is just around the corner though and at this latitude we gain an extra seven minutes of daylight each day.

After a hearty breakfast our group headed down to the harbour to get kitted out for our morning adventure on the good ship, Laki.



Getting into the oversized ‘boiler suits’ can be a bit of a workout in themselves but it is well worth it for the comfort and protection they offer once out on the water.

Once aboard we had a safety briefing and then everybody got settled, found ‘their’ spot on the boat, while Skappi (our skipper!) steered the Laki out of the harbour and into the fjord. We didn’t stay settled for long. Within 10 minutes of leaving port, the call went up from Ollie, one of the crew, that he could see orcas ‘at 12 o’clock!’. If you think of the boat as the face of a clock, then straight ahead off the bow is 12, the stern behind is 6, portside is 9 etc, etc. In the excitement of the moment things can get very confusing with people shouting out ‘whales at twenty past three!’.

As everybody stared ahead scanning the distant horizon, a male orca surfaced just 100 metres off the bow and slowly started to circle the Laki, giving everyone a fantastic view.



The euphoria that broke out on the boat was infectious resulting in high fives, back slaps and huge grins from ear to ear. The orca seemed very relaxed in our company so we stayed with him for a further ten minutes before heading out deeper into the fjord to see another group that had just arrived. This group of six animals was comprised of two large males, three females and a new baby displaying the characteristic pinky-orange colouration on its eye patch and underbelly. This family group were very social and were spy hopping, tail slapping and back rolling.



Again, we restricted our time to about 15 minutes as we didn’t want to outstay our welcome and so left the orcas heading back out to the open ocean. Our cheerful group of self-confessed orcaholics returned to harbour sustained with hot chocolate, Icelandic donuts and memories that will last a lifetime.

My home from home for the next few weeks will be the small town of Grundarfjörður which lies on the north coast of the Snæfellsnes peninsula in the west of Iceland.

The whole peninsula is often referred to as a miniature Iceland and it is a very popular tourist destination. The glacier-topped Snæfellsjökull volcano, standing at 1446m, is the highest mountain on the peninsula and dominates the landscape. The volcano was the setting for the classic Jules Verne’s novel, Journey to the Centre of the Earth.



Grundarfjörður has done well from the fishing industry over the years but in recent times the area has started to attract a whole new international crowd hoping to witness a new winter phenomenon.

Since 2011, groups of orca (Orcinus orca) have regularly been spotted out in the bay during the winter months causing much excitement amongst locals, tourists and researchers.



As with all wild whales and dolphins, prey availability dictates their movements and the reason the orcas have shown up in Grundarfjörður recently is a direct response to a shift in the wintering habits of their prey - the Atlantic herring (Clupea harengus) - one of the most abundant fish species on earth. If you want to find out more about orca then you really need to understand the natural history of the herring! The Icelandic herring stock, or Sild, as it is known locally, used to spend the winters in the fjords in the east of Iceland but in 2006 some of the older stock shifted their distribution to the Grundarfjörður area. However, it took a few more years before the orcas figured this out and now, from December to March each winter, the orcas appear to be a regular feature giving people a golden opportunity to see these iconic and charismatic mammals.

Please follow the blogs over the coming weeks as we attempt to give you an insight in to the lives of the whales, the people and landscapes of this stunning island.