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There was a quote that stuck out to me in this section where echolocation is discussed. It goes “echolocation is not the same as mind-reading. Some of this magic is just the complexity of a mammal being alive in sound. I can hear what I cannot see yet. I can make a whole world of resonance” (Gumbs, pg. 18). I understand that Gumbs is not describing echolocation in a literal sense, but rather using it as a metaphor for the ways in which she tunes her own frequencies. I thought the usage of echolocation was interesting, however, and it made me curious about its literal connection to humans, as explored in the article I chose. I also chose another article that serves as further knowledge surrounding the extinct species hydrodamalis gigas.

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Steller's sea cow: the first historical extinction of a marine mammal at human hands

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Unusually for a modern mammal, we know little of it from a true natural history perspective.

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Part of this section discusses the fear of the unknown (using the example of a baby Weddell seal and it’s mother), and how, when undergoing positive pressure from an outside source, one is able to break past these fears and obtain a version of themselves that embodies their complete potential. This particular part of the section made me think of the overarching idea of pushing one’s physical and mental boundaries, hence is why I selected this first reference, which is blog-like post in which the author describes their experience with leaning into discomfort and how it changed her outlook on life and her personal identity. I also chose another source--an analysis of Nirvana’s “Come As You Are” song-- because a quote in this chapter reminded of the song: “There are at least three ways to love you: as you were, as you are, as you will be” (Gumbs, pg. 22).

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Louisa May Alcott once said, "I'm not afraid of storms, for I'm learning how to sail my ship."

Photo by Michael Olsen on Unsplash

Growing up in a small town, I was an extremely vigorous kid. It felt like I've always involved myself with almost everything life has to offer. From one endeavor to another, my enthusiasm seemed to be all over the place.

Then when I graduated from college with a fresh fuel to head on for my dreams, I immediately traveled a hundred miles away from home to work in the "big city".

However, while I was spreading my wings and soaring high, it came to a point that I got stuck at a crossroad. I was merely an eagle trapped in a stormy sky.

In my venture to seeking purpose and direction, I may have stumbled onto lots of rocks that would occasionally led me off-track. Yet I still believe that at the end of the day, it's still us who can be capable of visualizing a way when lost in the game.

Having fears is what makes us human. At times, our fears hinder us from even taking the first step into doing something we deeply know is good for us. But as soon as we learn to overcome it, trust that this will help us go one foot further as we continue to journey life.

To tell you, one of my greatest fears is heights. But looking back, I can still remember how I felt foolish saying yes to climbing one of the highest mountain peaks in our country just because I previously made a pact with myself to embrace one fear at a time.

This happened in July 2019. Not a good month for hiking since it's a rainy season, meaning it's a time when we experience substantial rainfall. To be honest, I was so scared that I can't even focus well at work. But somehow, I can't help but be exhilarated as well.

Our trail hike started at 1 A.M and it was really freezing cold. We only had our headlights, just illuminating enough to see what we're stepping on.

When we were walking for like 20 minutes straight, I was already starting to feel my heart pumping so hard though we haven't arrived at the official start of the trail yet. By the time we began the hike to Camp 1, I was already doubting myself if I could make it to the top. Our hike guide told us that Camp 1 was not even considered as 10% part of the whole trail. It was like just the tip of an iceberg.

It took us 4-5 hours before we reached the summit. I find the last leg the most difficult for me since you literally have to climb up to the actual peak. I was so dead tired, almost running out of breath but I have to push some more because the peak was finally an inch away from me.

The moment I have reached the top; I immediately lay down while I screamed for joy. It was such a panoramic view that I felt as if I was touching the sky. It was a liberating feeling that I somehow teared up.

I know you might ask, "Why do I even need to step out of my comforts when I'm perfectly okay with where I am now?"

It's because when you start to seek something you cannot find, that something will eventually emerge when you nurture a life of a venturous kind. Once you push yourself to unfamiliar places and do things that you wouldn't normally do, you upgrade to becoming a better version of yourself.

And little by little, we all need to become the best version of ourselves in order to somehow take part in making this world a much brighter and happier place.

Facing our fears has never been easy but our fears will only be as wide and deep as our mind allows it to be. You can only overcome it if you are aware that it exists and you are doing something about it.

So as much as you can and as long as you can, take the leap. Do one thing that scares you every day and train yourself to be resilient regardless of the outcome.

I believe that it's totally okay to be scared whenever we are always stepping out of our own comforts. We were not born unto this world automatically in stealth mode and fearless of everything. Even a baby cries out when the mom is gone for just a few minutes.

In taking action for your personal goals and dreams, being scared only means you believe that not all things are in your control. However, only you can control you.

We live each day without fully knowing what is ahead of us. Thus explains why having fear is normal since we can't see what awaits us on that other side of the door. Yet to be able to pursue something important or meaningful that you've never done before despite being afraid, that's quite powerful!

According to author Geoff Colvin in his book, Talent is Overrated, he said that "The best performers set goals that are not about the outcome but about the process of reaching the outcome." Indeed, this also goes that you can only have a winner mindset if you're ready for all the failures you'll eventually get.

Throughout our journey in life, we will always have to break barriers. And no matter how many times we do it, it might still be scary and uneasy.

However, always remember that each step counts. Every foot you put forward matters. Truly, each of us has our own unique source of faith and belief but always know that the action will still be up to us. It will still be up to YOU.

Life may have already left us with scars and the road ahead may still be blocked by giant vines of thorns. But if we continuously breed courage within our souls, our hearts will eventually be the sword and our minds will be our shield in casting out those abominable blockades.

I know it's tough but you have to start perceiving life not being a race but a marathon. True winning is not by finishing fast and by being first. It is through being able to endure your own pains and weakness up until you reach the finish line.

You may still be at the start lane. You may have stumbled a thousand times before and just got back up on your feet again. Don't focus on the thought of how others are almost at the finish line. You have to see the image of you having that strength to be where you are supposed to be now. You did not come this far to only come this far.

Some may walk. Others run. Each of us has our own pace. But this doesn't mean that you will accept your current speed. Always strive to outwork your now for a better tomorrow.

Of course, I am still afraid of a whole lot of things but taking responsibility for what you can control even in the face of fear can definitely make your life more meaningful. It won't be an easy journey but your YES matters. And the good news is, YOU play a big part in the story you create.

Allow yourself to be ready for a journey towards the unexpected and to all possibilities this beautiful life has to offer.

Though I myself do not carry all the answers but I hope reading this may help you create a question instead. A question you can ask yourself that may hopefully lead you into taking action for your next adventure.

"Don't waste your days wishing for the past to change. There is no promise for tomorrow. Today is your best day."

Photo by Benjamin Davies on Unsplash

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Growing up in a small town, I was an extremely vigorous kid. It felt like I've always involved myself with almost everything life has to offer. From one endeavor to another, my enthusiasm seemed to...

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I found the discussion of giving birth in captivity impactful, both among human and animal mothers, and I decided to use one of my references as a way to explore this further, specifically with mothers in prison. The article dives into the realities and hardships that mothers face during and after pregnancy, including individual women’s stories along with broader common experiences. I was not previously aware that this was such a prevalent occurrence, and it is both saddening and angering that the justice system lacks the basic care and attention to essential time for a mother and their child during and right after birth (and obviously the time spent between the mother and her child as she raises them but this is specifically about right after birth). I’ve also referenced an article that discusses the unspoken/ hidden sinister side of Sea Life Park.

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‘The pain was worse than giving birth’: why are so many women separated from their babies in prison?

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First they had to give birth in custody, then their babies were taken away. Sometimes they never got them back. Here’s what 29 women told the Lost Mothers Project

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I felt moved by the beginning of this section, specifically when Gumbs describes her “dorsal practices.” It made me want to incorporate, or at least try out, some of the ones she mentioned, particularly yoga, which is something I have tried but not stuck to in the recent past. I’ve attatched one yoga video that I will be following that specifically focusses on regulating the nervous system, which will be useful for my own decompression needs. Additionally, I was interested in the Indus susu and Ganges susu dolphin species, so I attached another video that goes further in depth about them and their habitat.

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The Indus River Dolphin: A Redefined Species

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I found the social patterns of the Pacific white-sided dolphins (the fact that they form “close-knit” groups), as well as their scarring, quite intriguing, so I included a reference article that provides general information surrounding these dolphins, as well as their (treacherous) interactions with killer whales. In addition, although I have no outside resources to supplement this, the section where Gumbs opens up about her relationship with her teeth, specifically the paragraph that begins with “Sometimes I wish I lived in a world where teeth were never for sale (to fairies or anyone else)...” (Gumbs, pg. 65) was moving, especially as a person who is not the most fond of their own teeth. The particular quote also touched me: “And my first marine mammal lesson was that if I breathe I can still speak even while crying” (Gumbs, pg. 64).

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Little truths: Studying Pacific white-sided dolphins in British Columbia - Oceanographic

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Dr Erin Ashe writes about her passion for and study of the Pacific white-sided dolphins of British Columbia. How do they find food while avoiding predation?

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I was intrigued by Gumbs’ brief mention of the interspecies collaboration and interaction (outside of crossing paths) between dolphins and hump back whales who travel “in huge group conductive to safety and collaboration” (Gumbs, pg. 59). Thus, I searched for a reference that gave a general overview of interactions between dolphins and hump back whales, and found that the two species not only unite for safety, but have also been observed interacting in a playful manner (literally playing together). I’ve attached a video of this alongside the article.

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Interactions Between Humpback Whales (Megaptera novaeangliae) and Dolphins

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It is strongly believed that cetaceans, which consist of whales, dolphins, and porpoises, are some of the more intelligent species that exist alongside human beings on this planet. Naturally, due to this high level of intelligence, they are more likely to have interactions with other…

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Firstly, I found the theme of being, giving, saying, “here” when discussing the Indus river dolphins and their lack of sight, but nonetheless abundance of connection and communication, emotionally moving. Because I have already included a resource relating to these dolphins, I sought out an article that provides a little recounting of the San Francisco Bay’s encounter with Allie the humpback whale, as well as a short video of a spinner dolphin spinning in the air.

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It's an unlikely sight in San Francisco Bay.

A humpback whale has been splashing around in the waters near Alameda for more than two weeks.

The much-photographed cetacean has earned herself the name "Allie" and there's even an Alameda Allie Facebook page where people can post photos.

Experts say Allie appears to be an adult female who is in poor health.

"The whale is underweight and skin condition is poor," said Giancarlo Rulli, a spokesperson for the Marine Mammal Center. "The whale has a moderate amount of whale lice and that's consistent with a poorer than normal skin condition."
ALSO: Sharks as big as small yachts spotted off California coast after 30-year absence
Biologists at the center suspect the animal came to the bay in search of shelter from the harsh conditions of the open ocean. Humpbacks feed near the Golden Gate Bridge where the ocean waters can be rich with anchovies, but they rarely travel deep into the bay.

"The hope is the whale is gaining strength within that shelter area," says Rulli.

Allie has many fans who are rooting for her and on Thursday morning a group gathered at Pier 3 in Alameda for a prayer circle.

Many also track her location and say hello to her daily from the shore.

"I just came back from the whale," said Mark Klein, who is part of the group Alameda Point Harbor Seal Monitors that conducts daily seal counts. "The latest position is where the USS Hornet is docked near the row of ferries. You can go out to that wharf and usually you can just look and see where there are a bunch of people with cameras and that's where Allie is."

On some days, Allie has put on spectacular shows, throwing her big blubbery body into the air and then falling into the water with an epic splash.

"It's very thrilling, especially when she breaches out of the water," Klein said.

The Marine Mammal Center asks the public to not approach the whale.
Amy Graff is an SFGate staff writer. Email: agraff@sfgate.com

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Allie the humpback whale continues to make San Francisco Bay her home

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It's an unlikely sight in San Francisco Bay. A humpback whale has been splashing around in the waters near Alameda for more than two weeks. The much-photographed cetacean has earned herself the name "Allie" and there's even an Alameda Allie Facebook page where people can post photos.

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Although this section was on the shorter side, I found the snippet that mentions the rāpoka and Maori’s relationship interesting and endearing, and located a source that elborated on this dynamic. What I found was a silly and lighthearted but informative site that describes a small range of information, from the history of the rāpoka and Maori, to the actual Maori perspective of the creatures, whom were described on the website as being akin to “sea dogs.”

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I was inspired by Gumbs’ explanation after introducing the Black-chinned dolphin, specifically their swimming patterns and the whirlpool they form as a collective to gather food. A particular quote from her is that “Sometime you do have to make your own whirlpool, redirect the waters, initiate a spiral of momentum that can displace whole governments” (Gumbs, pg. 79). This made me think of the concept of movement, or more specifically, dancing, as a form of protest against higher, corrupt powers. I chose a source that provides several accounts throughout history of protest via the form of dance.

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It is easy to view dancing as frivolous, reserved for parties and cheesy lyrical performances. However, dance has a long history of being imbued with hidden meaning, and often, inspiring oppressed groups to rise above.

Even now, within the Black Lives Matter protests that occurred after the death of George Floyd, dancing functions as a way for marginalized communities to make themselves seen, transforming the act into its own form of resistance. Performing anything from ballet to improvised hip-hop, dance is a peaceful way to showcase the real bodies being affected by global issues, and to turn ugly and painful experiences into something beautiful.

Dancing can also empower others, connecting individuals to their culture in a meaningful way. Lucas Lin '27, a member of Lunar Productions Club, a traditional Asian dance club at Bronx Science, said that he feels more connected to Chinese culture because, "The lion dance is a big part of Chinese culture during Lunar New Years' celebrations, and it is what most people dance to." Through the Lunar Productions Club, he is able to learn more about and personally engage with his ethnic background.

Shubham Patel '24, a member of the South-Asian heritage club at Bronx Science, NASHA, shared a similar sentiment. "For us, it is a form of expression towards God," he said, further showing that dance has significance across many cultures.
The Cakewalk
Slave owners at the time forced their slaves to perform the dance in order to humiliate and degrade them. However, even though this dance was intended to be dehumanizing, those performing the cakewalk would parody the dances they had seen their white slave owners engage in. The idea that a dance meant to mock slaves ended up as a mockery of the slave owners is not only a show of resistance, but is also incredibly ironic.

While this parody might seem harmless and unimpactful, considering that being a slave meant being severely punished for any insubordination as well as being viewed as less than human, this act of mockery carried a lot of significance. Through the cakewalk, a wronged community legally considered to be property was able to gain back some of the power they had been stripped of.
Irish Dancing
Unlike some of the other aforementioned dances, Irish Dancing did not start out as a form of protest. It was merely a cultural tradition that existed peacefully until the British colonized Ireland in , although the exact date is unclear. This conquest was justified by the Elizabethans with the argument that in the 1100s Ireland had been partially conquered by the Normans, who had ruled England centuries before, therefore giving England ownership over Ireland. In 1695, the Penal Laws were passed, committing genocide against the Irish by suppressing Irish culture. Gaelic, the language originally spoken in Ireland, was banned, along with Irish folk tales, Irish music, and Irish Dancing.

Were it not for these teachers, Irish Dancing most likely would have been lost to time, similarly to the ways in which Gaelic went extinct. In this way, Irish dancing continues to be a symbol of empowerment for Ireland, representing a way in which the Irish were able to fight back against British colonization.

Eventually, in 1800, the Penal Laws were lifted, leading to the Great Gaelic Revival. All aspects of previously suppressed Irish culture boomed in popularity, and by 1930, the Irish Dancing Commission was created, serving as a governing body over dance competitions and teacher certifications.

One of the theories behind why Irish dancers keep their arms by their side as they dance involves a subtle form of defiance. It is believed that, when Queen Elizabeth I, who was responsible for many of the oppressive policies enacted in Ireland, requested Irish Dancers to perform for her, these dancers refused to raise their arms before her to show their lack of respect. Instead, the dance was entirely performed with their legs and feet, and continues to look like that today.

In contrast to other aspects of Irish culture, Irish Dancing lives on. There are local, regional, national, and international competitions every year, with competitors from all over the world, not just Ireland. The silent resistance of keeping Irish Dance alive echoes in every competition which would not be possible without those brave souls.
Ghost Dance
In 1889, the Ghost Dance originated in the Paiute Tribe in North America after a member named Wovoka spoke of his religious visions. The tribe viewed these visions as special signs, and after Wovoka spoke of a ritual dance that he claimed to have seen in his visions with his tribe members, the dance became widespread throughout the community.

At a time when white settlers were intentionally competing to exterminate every last buffalo in an attempt to weaken Native American populations in the American West, hope was hard to find. As such, many tribe members clung to the idea that, through this dance, the Buffalo population would be revived, the Paiute Tribe would be restored, and white settlers would stop attacking the Native Americans.
Modern Day
Dancing continues to be a source of power, both on small and large scales. As Vedika Jain '24 said, " I do think dancing makes me feel empowered, because after three hours of dancing, I feel accomplished. Not only does it empower me, but it is also something that I enjoy. It is also a good way to relieve my brain from stress and to just express myself."

Through playing joyful music and exuberantly dancing through the streets, those protesting police brutality are brought closer together. And as we have seen through the Cakewalk, Irish Dancing, and the Ghost Dance, nothing is more powerful, and more threatening to those in power, than a united community.

Performing anything from ballet to improvised hip-hop, dance is a peaceful way to showcase the real bodies being affected by global issues, and to turn ugly and painful experiences into something beautiful.

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It is easy to view dancing as frivolous, reserved for parties and cheesy lyrical performances. However, dance has a long history of being imbued with hidden meaning, and often, inspiring oppressed groups to rise above. Even now, within the Black Lives Matter protests that occurred after the death of George Floyd, dancing functions as a...

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Gumbs’ quotes, “There is a difference in being shy and being selective,” as well as “We have the right to obscure. It is not an invitation to colonize us. It is not seduction. Boundaries can be so beautiful. Teach us so much” (Gumbs, pg. 92), are further pieces of advice and wisdom that have touched a deeper part in me. Her words are powerful, and in my interpretation are not limited one group of people, but rather anyone from any marginalized group or identity, etc. Additionally, I added a short article that explains how capitalism damages one’s mental health, and provides self-help and community-centered coping strategies.

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Capitalism is damaging your mental health. This is how to cope. — TherapyJeff

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You may not know it, but living under capitalism is damaging your mental health. The overwhelming feeling of competition, the scarcity mindset, the loneliness and low self worth can all be tied back to living in a capitalist society. In this video I want to help you understand that therapy, self hel

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This was yet another section that was impactful and left me feeling several emotions, from anger to endearment. One thing that evoked the former emotion, along with indignation, is the oil companies that have been let in by the Greek government in attempts to solve their economic problems. One of my references explores this further, specifically the activist side of the issue, and how an all-women activist group named Vrisoules in particular is not only “using music… to raise awareness and stop off-shore drilling speculation” (Gumbs, pg. 105), but are also singing and dancing to interrupt politicians speeches and political rallies. Additionally, I was saddened by the ongoing struggles that the New Zealand white front dolphins are facing, and I linked another source that delves into their story and connection to the Maori people.

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The special case of our smallest dolphins

Hector's and Māui dolphins are dying in nets-but their biggest foe might be a virus carried by cats. Can transformative tech cut through the tangle and save the creatures at the heart of it?

The waka paddles slice placid water, a dozen of us pulling in unison, ferrying a body across the Waikouaiti awa to her final resting place. We beach the vessel on Ōhinepouwera, the sandspit opposite Karitāne, where hundreds of whales were butchered back when Johnny Jones ran his empire of blubber and bone. Now, it's a place of peace, the waves patiently cleaning the sand of its grisly past.

It's earthquake weather, the nor'west sculpting spaceships in the sky.

The kaikaraka's wailing cry leads us up the dunes, the deceased dolphin in the place of honour, at the front. She's gently lowered into a hole, wrapped in a korowai of rimurimu, a kelp cloak. Children add seashells to the offering.

To the strains of 'Te Aroha', spadefuls of sand cover the dolphin and she begins her long rest.

This Hector's dolphin died a bit more than four nautical miles from here, just beyond the invisible line in the sea that might have saved her.

According to fishing rules designed to protect her, she shouldn't have been there. And yet she was, hunting fish on the continental shelf. In the murk, her finely tuned echolocation failed to detect the net that snared her. With her small lungs working hard and screaming for air, she could only remain underwater for a short time-her struggle would have been brief.

As per legal requirement, the dolphin's body was brought to shore and delivered to the Ministry of Fisheries office in Dunedin. They arranged for her transport to Palmerston North. There, she was held in cold storage before being dissected under necropsy, cleaned and prepared for the long overland journey home. Back in Dunedin, Department of Conservation (DOC) staff carried her on the back of a ute out to Karitāne.

For most people, she's a statistic now, paperwork, acronyms and existential maths swirling around her death. She's one of two Hector's dolphins that make up this year's FRML, or fishing-related mortality limit, for the Otago region. Her death will factor into the PST, or population sustainability threshold, a theoretical measure of the number of deaths these dolphins can sustain.

For some, this dead animal is a symbol of everything that's wrong with New Zealand's fisheries management. For others, she represents a tragic but unavoidable loss on a busy coast where fishing and dolphins intersect. To the people of Kāti Huirapa ki Puketeraki, whose ancestors lived alongside Hector's dolphins for centuries, and whose wharenui is fronted by an exact, exquisite replica of one that washed up when the meeting house was being carved, she's an old friend who's been away, come home at last.

[Chapter Break]

A gentleman visitor to the seaside village of Brighton, South Otago in the 1860s might have been well advised to carry with him a copy of Paul Diver's Guide to Brighton and Its Environs.

"While lady relatives and friends are inhaling the breezes on the Parade," suggests the author, "let the marksman sit at either side of the boat-harbour on a fine day, at high tide, and he will soon see a shoal of porpoises, at which if he is quick, he will be able to get a fair shot. The bodies of these tenants of the deep, when hit, can be recovered at low tide, and a considerable quantity of oil taken from them."

University of Otago science communication researcher Gemma McGrath spent years trawling such old books, articles and papers, and interviewing people for her master's thesis, which attempts to gauge just how common Hector's dolphins once were. So common, she found, "that people wouldn't be able to imagine them ever becoming rare".

Her thesis functions as a snapshot of abundance, of a time when many thousands of dolphins thrived around the coast of New Zealand. It tells of dolphins feeding far up rivers, lighthouse keepers harpooning them for fun-and of a mysterious white-faced variety of Hector's dolphin that seems to no longer exist.

Hector's dolphins were once a common sight up rivers and estuaries. Ramari Oliphant Stewart (Ngāti Awa, Rongomaiwahine, Ngāti Mahuta) is a tohunga tohorā (whale expert) and marine biologist who lives on the West Coast. She gained a glimpse of those vanished times six years ago, when a pod of 30 Hector's dolphins took up residence along a two-kilometre stretch of the Ōkārito lagoon.

Locals and officials, she tells me, didn't know how to deal with the incursion, with many fearing an imminent stranding. "There were locals trying to drive them out with jet skis and outboards," she says. "I was horrified. They just had no idea what they were doing."

She quickly discovered a nursery group of calves further up the lagoon. She convinced the local hapū to put a rāhui over the area and spent three and a half weeks camping out there, observing the dolphins as they hunted for baitfish.

"I learned so much about these animals. I saw three or four different fishing strategies they were using." One strategy involved herding the bait brought in by each tide. The dolphins, she says, were expertly working the shifting tidal front.

"It was what I call picket fencing. The tide would drop and it'd be about a metre of water and they had all the bait fenced inside the channel."

Māori around Aotearoa, she says, once knew such behaviour intimately. "[The dolphins] were well known to hapū up and down the coastline. Because when the health of our estuaries and harbours was there, [dolphins] were no doubt in and out of them.

"They are masters at working shallow, low-visibility environments."

Māori have a deep and complex connection to Hector's dolphins. "They are taonga, beheld as whanaunga [extended family] with deep respect," explains researcher Sonia Rahiti (Ngāi Tahu). "Certain whānau and hapū had strong relationships with dolphins, who were kaitiaki [guardians]. They acted as tohu [signs] and were ecosystem indicators."

The dolphins, Ramari tells me, were also an important food source for southern Māori.

"Hector's dolphin in the South Island was a really important species in terms of maintaining human fat levels during the winter when you had poor harvest seasons. You needed fat otherwise you died of liver disease.

"Everyone tends to sanitise it these days. But we had a huge respect for those species because they were part of our existence."

[Chapter Break]

In the early 1980s, marine biologists Steve Dawson and Liz Slooten were postgraduate students just starting their careers. Seeking to fill the gaping information void around Hector's dolphins, the pair set out on one of the most ambitious marine science projects ever undertaken in New Zealand: they bought a small inflatable boat (Dawson's mum chipped in for the trailer) and navigated huge stretches of coastline, counting dolphins.

Their epic journey took them from the sheltered harbours of Banks Peninsula to the Marlborough Sounds and the rugged west coast of the South Island. They also explored from Muriwai Beach to Raglan, following up on reports of dolphins living there. At times it got "more than a little bit scary", says Dawson. They had no back-up motor, no radio-the VHF network wasn't up to it.

"We ended up going out of just about all of the West Coast river bars," he says. "We did end up coming in upside down one time. There's no way in the world we would let graduate students do that these days."

The survey mapped for the first time where Hector's dolphins clustered along the coast.

Fetching up in Akaroa, on Banks Peninsula, the pair rented the old Wainui school for $12 a week, and headed out onto the harbour every good day.

"We kept finding dolphins either floating around in the water, or dead on the beach," says Slooten. Many of these dolphins carried the telltale scars of having been caught in plastic monofilament nets.

The couple decided to start autopsies. "We thought we might get about a dozen dead dolphins," says Slooten. "In the end we got 125. The first one, you're shocked as hell. And after a while, which is almost more shocking, you get completely used to it."

Around this time, Dawson interviewed more than 100 fishermen. One told him he'd caught a dolphin a day for the previous two weeks. Another reported catching five dolphins in one net. One reported catching 44 dolphins in a year.

"Those bad old days were just soul destroying," Dawson says. "It was a tough time."

He and Slooten worked alongside the newly formed DOC to establish New Zealand's first marine mammal sanctuary in Akaroa in 1988.

Since then, the couple and their graduate students (there have been nearly 30) have returned to Akaroa every year to study the dolphins. "We've seen a nice increase in the survival rate," says Slooten. "There are clear indications that we've gone from a precipitous decline to somewhere around flatlining."

[Chapter Break]

Hector's dolphins are the small-town Kiwi of the dolphin world, says Rochelle Constantine, a cetacean biologist with the University of Auckland. "Their average range is around 50 kilometres."

Much of Constantine's work focuses on genetics, a powerful tool for analysing populations and figuring out where these animals live. Genetics has reinforced what had long been suspected by researchers-that, due to Hector's dolphins' tendency to keep it local, the groups of dolphins around our coast are largely isolated from one another.

Each cluster of dolphins in the South Island, for example, carries a different genetic stamp. Two populations on the Kaikōura coast, less than 40 kilometres apart, are separated by the deep incursion of the Kaikōura Canyon, and as a result have different genetics.

"That's why it's kind of tricky talking about 'the Hector's dolphin'," says Constantine, "because they are quite different."

In 2002, it was discovered that the small population of dolphins off the North Island's west coast were so genetically different from those down south that they should be classed as a separate subspecies, the Māui dolphin. With as few as 48 individuals left, they're one of the world's rarest cetaceans, and their numbers are still declining.

Hector's are faring better-our latest estimate puts their total population at about 15,000-but Dawson worries about the vulnerability of each family cluster. "These populations are small and fragmented," he says. "They're at very high risk."

Since Banks Peninsula, four more sanctuaries have been set up specifically to protect Hector's and Māui dolphins-off the west coast of the North Island, Marlborough, Southland's Te Waewae Bay and in the Catlins, where, I discover, they are causing quite a stir.

[Chapter Break]

On a still autumn day, I join surfer Nick Smart and DOC senior ranger Ros Cole on a bench outside Smart's one-room surf school, overlooking the wide, sandy crescent of Porpoise Bay. A group of around 40 Hector's dolphins spend the summer here, feeding, socialising and having their babies.

The dolphins are in the bay most days through summer, easily accessible from the beach. They've become one of the worst-kept secrets on the international backpacker circuit.

Cole periodically calls in here to keep an eye on human behaviour. The main worry is that excited tourists will affect mother dolphins trying to nurse their babies.

While most tourists are well behaved, she says there is the odd person that gets a little too eager for a Free Willy moment. "What we're seeing is people trying to touch dolphins and things like that. We prefer if the dolphins want to interact with people that they do it on their own terms rather than people pushing themselves into the dolphin space."

From the shore, I watch 10 dolphins in perfect formation riding the glassy surf-silver and black missiles in cold, clear water. As the wave breaks, two leap clear of the sea.

Further out, the rest of the pod mill in the wash of the bay, their cookie-cutter fins bobbing at the surface. A few tourists with hired bodyboards are heading out for a closer look.

Smart's surf classes are often crashed by playful dolphins. "There are some days where they just don't leave us alone. They just want to surf with us and have fun."

For his students, it's an unforgettable experience. "Some of them have never seen a dolphin. Some of them haven't even been in the ocean. I often get students telling me it's the best thing they've ever done in their life."

But the interest in the Porpoise Bay dolphins is a double-edged sword. "Quite often when I meet people and they've had a good time, I say, 'Don't tell too many people', which I shouldn't say because I have a tourism business, but I just like the numbers at the moment. I'd hate to see this place get overrun."

Making sure there are no dolphins nearby, I swim out past the breakers and tread water. In the 20 minutes I spend out there, three or four dolphins come past just metres away, cruising the surf line, looking for food. Each time, I duck my head under, hoping for a glimpse through the gloom.

[Chapter Break]

Dolphin lives are largely invisible to us. But new scientific tools are allowing us to see more than ever.

Genetic studies reveal that every now and then, one of these notorious homebodies "busts a move", as Constantine puts it. One Hector's dolphin, it seems, swam from Westland all the way around Fiordland to Te Waewae Bay in Southland, leaving its genetic signature in the population there. Others travelled to the west coast of the North Island, into Māui habitat.

Figuring out where the dolphins are, and when, is critical to protecting them. These small mammals are not only vulnerable to gillnets, but also to trawl nets, which are regularly used around the coasts of our country to catch species like snapper, gurnard and tarakihi.

Commercial gillnets are now banned inshore to four nautical miles around roughly half the country. Along a swathe of the North Island's west coast, in the heart of known Māui dolphin habitat, protection extends out to 12 nautical miles offshore. Similar restrictions are in place around Banks Peninsula. Trawl netting closures are less severe, extending four nautical miles offshore in Māui dolphin habitat and offering only partial protection elsewhere. These closures have pushed many fishing operators out of business, and some think it's all for nothing, arguing that they never see Māui dolphins out in deeper water. Conservationists, however, say the restrictions don't go far enough.

It's not only nets the dolphins are up against. "Things we do on land have impacts in the sea as well," says DOC science advisor Anton van Helden.

He says sediment pouring out of rivers may be damaging the seafloor, causing the dolphins' food sources to move elsewhere. For highly localised dolphins that hug the coast, this is a problem. In Southland, Ros Cole tells me, "We've got four big river catchments, and all of them have Hector's dolphins hanging out off the river mouths. Everything that goes down those rivers ends up in dolphin habitat."

Pollutants and heavy metals accumulate in the dolphins' bodies. "Anything in the fat reserves of a female tends to get metabolised into the milk, so the calf gets that pollution. There's evidence overseas to suggest that it can have an impact on reproductive success and breeding condition."

Then there's us. The ports we build, our ships and boats, the sheer amount of noise we send rippling through the water-they're all likely to be stressors, says van Helden. "If an animal's having to deal with a particular stress, it can reduce their capacity to cope with other things. If there's a lot of noise in the environment, for example, it can make them less aware of predators. It may make them more vulnerable to being caught in nets. It may even bring their immune levels low enough that they're more susceptible to disease."

[Chapter Break]

Tens of thousands of years ago, humans shared the jungles of South America with a tenacious and adaptable parasite called Toxoplasma gondii. The parasite spends the first part of its life cycle in the body of a mammal or bird, where it enters the host's nervous system and alters the host's behaviour, making it less afraid of predators, particularly cats. This is the parasite's intent-it needs a feline to call home. Once inside a cat, it reproduces, shedding thousands of oocysts (equivalent to eggs) that are released through the cat's faeces and urine. These enter the soil and waterways and stay there, sometimes for up to a year, until some hapless creature ingests them and the cycle starts again.

As humans cleared forests, developed agriculture and domesticated cats, the parasite evolved too. It has found a comfortable niche in the cosy triangle between cats, mice and humans. Thanks to humans, these domestic strains of Toxoplasma spread around the world. We now live alongside it on a daily basis. Many of us even carry it.

Toxoplasma oocysts survive for up to two years in salt water-so the parasite also plagues the ocean. Oocysts enter streams and rivers and are washed out to sea, where they're ingested by filter-feeding animals like cockles and mussels, as well as by fish. From there, the parasite works its way up the food chain.

When it lodges in the body of a marine mammal, it can do enormous damage. Toxoplasmosis, the disease the parasite causes, kills sea otters in California, spinner dolphins in Hawaii and Hawaiian monk seals. It's even been detected in seals in Antarctica. Seabirds, too, are likely at risk.

And in New Zealand, it's killing our endangered dolphins.

Whenever a Hector's or Māui dolphin is found dead on a beach or in a fishing net anywhere in the country, veterinary pathologist Wendi Roe gets a phone call. The dolphin will be shipped to her lab at Massey University, and she'll attempt to establish what killed it.

"I'm a problem-solving kind of person," she says. "On an individual animal basis, I'm quite motivated by wanting to know why an individual animal died, but the bigger driver, really, is the hope that you'll be able to do something about it."

In almost a quarter of the Hector's or Māui dolphins Roe examines, she finds evidence of a Toxoplasma infection.

Of the 150-odd she's necropsied, 10 have died from toxoplasmosis, including three of the eight Māui dolphins she's been able to fully necropsy since 2007.

In fatal cases, the parasite, she says, infects pretty much every organ in the animal's body. As it reproduces, it causes irreparable damage. Dolphins that die of toxoplasmosis do not die well.

Roe believes the disease could be a crucial factor in the species' survival. "The proportion of deaths caused by Toxoplasma is higher than any of the other diseases I find."

In sheep, toxoplasmosis can cause miscarriage. It could be doing the same in dolphins-we just don't know. There's also the distinct possibility that dolphin behaviour may be in some way altered by the parasite. Toxoplasmosis may cause humans to become less risk averse. For a dolphin swimming in a sea of nets and predators, that could be deadly.

As of 2019, some officials consider toxoplasmosis a significantly greater threat to Māui dolphins than commercial fishing. This is highly contentious.

Some conservationists accuse the fishing industry of amplifying the disease risk to shift attention away from fishing nets. "If you're looking at animals that are found dead on beaches, by definition, they're going to be unwell, so you're looking at a pretty biased sample," says Dawson.

But Roe points out that we only see a small fraction of the animals that die, so toxoplasmosis could be a bigger problem than we realise. One of the key things we need to know, she says, is where oocysts are entering waterways.

Researchers are now studying kākahi/freshwater mussels, to see if they're ingesting the oocysts, and if so, whether mussels could be used to help detect places where the oocysts are getting into the water.

Meanwhile, a PhD thesis by Alicia Coupe sampled cats across the country and found that around 1.6 per cent of feral and stray cats were shedding Toxoplasma gondii oocysts. The numbers are huge: an estimated 51 to 62 trillion oocysts were being released into the environment annually. We don't know how many of these make their way into the food chain. But Toxoplasma gondii is everywhere, from city parks and suburban gardens to rural areas, remote forests and tussock grasslands.

[Chapter Break]

We came close to losing some populations of Hector's dolphins. We may still lose the Māui dolphin. But, says Constantine, if we stop killing them-catching them in nets by mistake-the populations can bounce back. We're already watching it happen.

Protection measures, she says, have turned things around in some areas. Some groups of dolphins are now nearly as genetically diverse as they were before the nets. Crucially, though, we still don't know for sure how many dolphins continue to be killed in nets. Reliable data comes from fisheries observers-independent people on fishing boats, charged with reporting bycatch-or cameras on boats. But observer coverage is still low in many areas and the introduction of cameras has been delayed repeatedly.

Assuming that inshore trawling and gillnet fishing continues, some level of dolphin bycatch, for now, is inevitable. Constantine can live with that. With caveats.

"We must always be working towards zero bycatch," she says. "Every now and then a dolphin will die in a net. If it's from a large, robust, healthy population, I'm not bothered by that. As long as there's learning from it. And that we try to make sure it doesn't happen again."

One day, technology might mean that bycatch is impossible to hide. But it could also help prevent it in the first place by giving us a much better picture of how these dolphins operate.

Cawthron Institute researcher Deanna Clement recently led a pilot study that put digital acoustic recording tags (D-tags) on 11 Hector's dolphins in Marlborough's Cloudy Bay. The tags, developed by expat New Zealand engineer Mark Johnson, attach to the dolphins via suction cups and are programmed to detach after a day or two. They have transformed our ability to study these animals.

"They record with very high resolution all movements of the animal, and at the same time, they record the sounds that the animal makes," says Johnson.

By listening in to the dolphins' echolocation clicks, scientists can tell when the animals are hunting. Like a Geiger counter in a fallout zone, the clicks get closer together as the dolphin homes in on its prey.

"What we're addressing is the second-by-second fine-scale behaviour of the animal," says Johnson. "How do they go about finding food? How often do they find food? What do they do when they find food?"

The answers will illuminate the lives of these dolphins. They might also save some. "Are there things they do that, for example, could lead to an elevated risk of entanglement in fishing gear?"

As the tags on the dolphins pinged back, scientists started to realise how limited our understanding of the species was.

Hector's dolphins, so the accepted wisdom goes, hug the coast, preferring cloudy waters around river mouths, perhaps because the murk protects them from predators like orca.

But one of the tagged animals went offshore at night and started feeding in waters 120 metres deep. "What are you doing out there?" thought Clements. "You don't go offshore!"

She suspects the dolphins head offshore to feed in a layer of water teeming with prey animals which rises closer to the surface at night. "It makes sense, but we've always told ourselves this other story."

The discovery could have profound implications for management. If dolphins are crossing the line we've drawn in the sea, does that mean we should redraw the line?

Another surprise: the dolphins regularly make long resting dives, staying underwater, almost motionless, for up to an hour, and while hunting, they roll over on their backs. "All we can assume is it's something to do with their echolocation, that it's more of an advantage if you're searching for something near the bottom to turn around and focus on it that way," says Clement.

We also now watch these dolphins from the air. In 2022, a non-profit group named Maui63 launched a hi-tech drone that can fly far offshore for up to six hours at a time and use artificial intelligence to spot Māui and Hector's dolphins. Constantine leads the project.

"When it detects a Māui or a Hector's dolphin it lets us know on land, where we're piloting it from," she explains. The drone is not bothered by rough seas or big swells-the pragmatics that hamper research from boats. It's hoped the drone will show researchers where Māui dolphins go during winter, something that still largely eludes us.

There may be other applications for this tech, too.

"We're working alongside the Ministry for Primary Industries and some of the fishing companies [to ask]: could we use this as something that could monitor an area to look for animals before fishing is being done?" she says. "Or could it fly backwards and forwards while fishing is being undertaken? It's very exciting."

Eyes underwater. Eyes in the sky. Decades spent in small boats on cold, choppy seas, and in the lab, scrutinising skin samples and ruined organs. Taken altogether, it's the sort of science that just might save a species.

"I'm really optimistic for Hector's dolphins," says Constantine. "I like to remain optimistic for the Māui dolphin. Every time you go out and see them, they're bouncing around and doing all the fun things that they do. They don't know they're on the edge of extinction, they don't know they're the world's rarest dolphin. I always have faith when I see them."

Magazine

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The special case of our smallest dolphins

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Hector's and Māui dolphins are dying in nets-but their biggest foe might be a virus carried by cats. Can transformative tech cut through the tangle and save the creatures at the heart of it?

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Reference

Like every section Gumbs has written, the subject of this section has been expanded and explored in a multitude of ways, both metaphorically and literally. I, however, felt a connection to the actual discussion of hair and its beauty and significance, especially because I’ve gone through a bit of a hair journey myself in the last two to three years. Although my hair does not have any deep cultural significance or a unique texture, this section reminded me that it is nonetheless significant. In the last year, specifically, I’ve hopped between several shades of browns and blondes (and unintentionally orangey-browns), but about two months ago, I returned to my natural hair color. This does not quite relate to any broader societal significance, or really to this section at all; however, I feel that it has signalled a change in my esteem, as I am now secure enough in myself that I no longer need to hide behind the mask of (looking back, what seemed to me) foreign shades of hair. (Obviously, some individuals use their hair as a way to express their identity, which was a factor in my hair experimentation, but I think that my differing shades of hair color served as stepping stones toward a more complete version of myself- does not apply to everyone.) As a result, I've linked a site that explores the spiritual energy associated with hair.

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Hair And Spiritual Energy 101: Can Hair Hold Energy?

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Can your hair hold energy? Learn all about the relationship between hair and spiritual energy and discover how to thwart negative hair energy too!

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Reference 1

Reference 2

When Gumbs discusses the Balaenoptera acutorostrata, the “winged whale with a sharp face” (Gumbs, pg. 111), she describes them as “speak[ing] quietly and carefully,” and organizing themselves in groups to evade the listening ears of orcas and bioacoustic researchers. This behavior, although a bit of a reach, reminded me of the secret code signals among other strategies used in the Underground Railroad escape passage during the time of chattel slavery from around 1810 to 1850. In both cases, communication was modified to avoid the ears of oppressive or predatory figures. Additionally, I found the discussion of the grey whale quite intriguing, particularly how it had disappeared for two centuries and mysteriously returned for the first time since 2013, so I linked another source that delves into the past, present, and future of this species

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This was done by using various types of secret code signals.

In these letters and notes, enslaved people were to as "passengers", "cargo", "freight", "baggage", "parcels", or "fleece". Historical records show that other creative terms were also used to refer to enslaved people. , a prominent Black abolitionist and Underground Railroad conductor who was born free, kept the correspondence from his fellow operations. He subsequently published them in his book The Underground Rail Road (1872). One sent to Still by a lawyer, Jacob Bigelow, appears to refer to enslaved people as "property" and "packages". This letter also spoke of needing to keep a small package together with two big packages, which could have meant keeping a family together. In another , written by Black Underground Railroad conductor Joseph Cassey Bustill to Still, Bustill appears to refer to enslaved people as "hams": "I have sent via at two o' clock four large and two small hams."

Many of the coded terms mirrored the actual railroad system. A person who led enslaved people between hiding places was called a "conductor". A person whose home was a hiding place or safe house for enslaved people was called a "station master". A person who donated to the Underground Railroad was called a "stockholder". The hiding places and homes used to shelter enslaved people were called "stations" or "depots". Taking enslaved people from station to station was referred to as "forward". Sydney Howard Gay was the editor of the National Anti-Slavery Standard publication, and also heavily involved in the Underground Railroad in New York City. He kept a detailed record of enslaved people whom he helped travel to freedom, called the (1855). In this record, he used the code word "forward" frequently.

In an early biography of Tubman by Sarah H. Bradford called Scenes in the Life of Harriet Tubman (1869) Bradford explains how singing was used by enslaved people to communicate their intentions. Before escaping from bondage, Harriet Tubman wanted to inform others of her plan. An reads,

And, before escaping, Tubman to her enslaver through a coded song, again referring to her freedom as a physical place, "the promised land."

"A keen observer might have detected in our repeated singing of 'O Canaan, sweet Canaan, I am bound for the land of Canaan,' something more than a hope of reaching heaven. We meant to reach the - and the north was our Canaan."

Douglass, concludes by saying "[It] was a favorite air, and had a double meaning. In the lips of some, it meant the expectation of a speedy summons to a world of spirits; but, in the lips of company, it simply meant, a speedy pilgrimage toward a free state, and deliverance from all the evils and dangers of slavery."

Songs could also be used as alerts while in the journey, too. While leading a group of enslaved people to freedom, Harriet Tubman would sing to signal to them if it was safe to leave their hiding spots. An excerpt from

"After nightfall, the sound of a hymn sung at a distance comes upon the ears of the concealed and famished fugitives in the woods, and they know that their deliverer is at hand. They listen eagerly for the words she sings, for by them they are to be warned of danger, or informed of safety. Nearer and nearer comes the unseen singer, and the words are wafted to their ears:

Of that song, Tubman said," De first time I go by singing dis hymn, dey don't come out to me till I listen if de coast is clar; den when I go back and sing it again, dey come out. But if I sing:

Some sources deny that enslaved people sang "Follow the Drinking Gourd" or used it as a way to gain their freedom. One reports that the song was composed and sung by a folk group called the Weavers in 1947 - decades after the Underground Railroad operated. This would make it impossible for enslaved people to have sung it. However, Parks had documented the song (complete with musical notation) two decades earlier in his 1928 publication.

Because there is no physical or written evidence to support the theory of a quilt code for enslaved people, some sources dispute the idea that it ever existed. One calls it a myth. Another writes that if enslaved people had a quilt, they would use it to shield themselves from cold weather, not to write secret codes with it. One says that the quilt code story allows people to believe that enslaved people had some sense of control over their plight.

Neither slavery nor involuntary servitude ... shall exist within the United States, or any place subject to their jurisdiction.

Walls, Bryan. "Underground Railroad Terminology." .

This was done by using various types of secret code signals.

In these letters and notes, enslaved people were to as "passengers", "cargo", "freight", "baggage", "parcels", or "fleece". Historical records show that other creative terms were also used to refer to enslaved people. , a prominent Black abolitionist and Underground Railroad conductor who was born free, kept the correspondence from his fellow operations. He subsequently published them in his book The Underground Rail Road (1872). One sent to Still by a lawyer, Jacob Bigelow, appears to refer to enslaved people as "property" and "packages". This letter also spoke of needing to keep a small package together with two big packages, which could have meant keeping a family together. In another , written by Black Underground Railroad conductor Joseph Cassey Bustill to Still, Bustill appears to refer to enslaved people as "hams": "I have sent via at two o' clock four large and two small hams."

Many of the coded terms mirrored the actual railroad system. A person who led enslaved people between hiding places was called a "conductor". A person whose home was a hiding place or safe house for enslaved people was called a "station master". A person who donated to the Underground Railroad was called a "stockholder". The hiding places and homes used to shelter enslaved people were called "stations" or "depots". Taking enslaved people from station to station was referred to as "forward". Sydney Howard Gay was the editor of the National Anti-Slavery Standard publication, and also heavily involved in the Underground Railroad in New York City. He kept a detailed record of enslaved people whom he helped travel to freedom, called the (1855). In this record, he used the code word "forward" frequently.

In an early biography of Tubman by Sarah H. Bradford called Scenes in the Life of Harriet Tubman (1869) Bradford explains how singing was used by enslaved people to communicate their intentions. Before escaping from bondage, Harriet Tubman wanted to inform others of her plan. An reads,

And, before escaping, Tubman to her enslaver through a coded song, again referring to her freedom as a physical place, "the promised land."

"A keen observer might have detected in our repeated singing of 'O Canaan, sweet Canaan, I am bound for the land of Canaan,' something more than a hope of reaching heaven. We meant to reach the - and the north was our Canaan."

Douglass, concludes by saying "[It] was a favorite air, and had a double meaning. In the lips of some, it meant the expectation of a speedy summons to a world of spirits; but, in the lips of company, it simply meant, a speedy pilgrimage toward a free state, and deliverance from all the evils and dangers of slavery."

Songs could also be used as alerts while in the journey, too. While leading a group of enslaved people to freedom, Harriet Tubman would sing to signal to them if it was safe to leave their hiding spots. An excerpt from

"After nightfall, the sound of a hymn sung at a distance comes upon the ears of the concealed and famished fugitives in the woods, and they know that their deliverer is at hand. They listen eagerly for the words she sings, for by them they are to be warned of danger, or informed of safety. Nearer and nearer comes the unseen singer, and the words are wafted to their ears:

Of that song, Tubman said," De first time I go by singing dis hymn, dey don't come out to me till I listen if de coast is clar; den when I go back and sing it again, dey come out. But if I sing:

Some sources deny that enslaved people sang "Follow the Drinking Gourd" or used it as a way to gain their freedom. One reports that the song was composed and sung by a folk group called the Weavers in 1947 - decades after the Underground Railroad operated. This would make it impossible for enslaved people to have sung it. However, Parks had documented the song (complete with musical notation) two decades earlier in his 1928 publication.

Because there is no physical or written evidence to support the theory of a quilt code for enslaved people, some sources dispute the idea that it ever existed. One calls it a myth. Another writes that if enslaved people had a quilt, they would use it to shield themselves from cold weather, not to write secret codes with it. One says that the quilt code story allows people to believe that enslaved people had some sense of control over their plight.

Neither slavery nor involuntary servitude ... shall exist within the United States, or any place subject to their jurisdiction.

Walls, Bryan. "Underground Railroad Terminology." .

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Singing, Stars, and Quilts: The Secret Code Signals of the Underground Railroad

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Those involved in the Underground Railroad had to use carefully coded signals to get enslaved people to freedom.

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Reference

Gumbs discusses the contemporary sperm whale, specifically mentioning its massive, sharp teeth, and ponders the transition of the species’ ancient firceness to its now seemingly (comparatively) docile nature: “I wonder what happened over millions of years for being known for its sharp teeth to evolve into one whose teeth scientists now theorize are never used to chew, but are actually mechanisms rhat simply attune their echolocation. Is that possible? That what was made to puncture you could now be used to listen deeply?” (Gumbs, pg. 123). This evoked the thought or concept that parts of someone or something do not, and usually are not, stagnant, and are always shifting as time passes. What was once made to harm or shield could now be used to heal, listen, or express. I found a source that explores this concept, specifically the act of owning one’s “bad” qualities and reworking them into positive growth and personal tools.

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How to Help Yourself by Owning Your “Bad” Qualities

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Sometimes we label as “bad” qualities that can serve us well. Here’s how to own these repressed qualities and transform them into something beneficial.

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Reference

Towards the end of this section, when Gumbs opens up about her father and his “habits and rituals,” and how he would watch the sunset and sunrise every morning and evening, it almost brought me to tears. Gumbs’ quote stuck out to me: “I can say, yes, he was curious and calm. And some people took advantage. I can say he was born black, but I cannot say he was never afraid. What he died from, the opposite of a healthcare system, a machine that turns Black death into sugar” (Gumbs, pg. 139). It not only reminded me of the deeply disturbing and grotesque historical treatment of literal human beings who simply were of a darker shade, but also how these racially based disparities and mistreatments still occur in our modern-day society. Although it was only mentioned as a point of comparison, I have linked an article about the racial disparities seen in the United States' healthcare system.

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Understanding and Addressing Racial Disparities in Health Care

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Racial disparities in medical care should be understood within the context of racial inequities in societal institutions. Systematic discrimination is not the aberrant behavior of a few but is often supported by institutional policies and…

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Reference

I appreciated the “Guide for Diving Deeper” that was included in this section. I, however, was intrigued by the deep scattering layer, especially by the fact that it was initially thought to be the bottom of the ocean, and found a source that provided a bit more background information on this structure. One interesting fact that I found on this site is that different species within deep scattering layers were not randomly distributed throughout each layer, but rather formed groups with distinct boundaries.

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Throughout the world ocean, animals congregate at certain depths, forming layers that can be hundreds of meters thick and may extend horizontally for dozens or even hundreds of kilometers. Because these dense layers of animals reflect sound waves, they are sometimes called "sound-scattering layers" or "deep scattering layers" (though they can occur near the sea surface). A new paper in Limnology and Oceanography shows that, rather than consisting of a random mixture of animals, these layers contain discrete groups or "schools" of squids, fishes, and crustaceans.

Deep scattering layers were first recognized during World War II, when sonar technicians observed their sound pulses bouncing off a "false seafloor" that actually consisted of millions of small fish or other animals. Over the following decades, marine biologists towed nets through the layers, bounced sound off them using ship-board sonar systems, and even observed them using small submarines. This research suggested that the layers were sometimes made up of one dominant type of animal but more often comprised a mixture of different animals.

Marine acoustician Kelly Benoit-Bird, the lead author on the recent paper, brought this research into the 21 st century, using deep-diving robots to take a close look at the animals within sound-scattering layers. In Fall 2013, her research team outfitted an autonomous underwater vehicle (AUV) with an advanced sonar system that acted like a very fancy fish finder. By programming the AUV to swim above and through several sound-scattering layers, the team collected sonar data that allowed Benoit-Bird to identify individual animals within these layers, and to track predators that dove into the layers to hunt.

While the AUV conducted sonar surveys within the sound-scattering layers, Benoit-Bird and her collaborators towed a net through these same layers. After bringing the net back on deck, they counted and identified every animal in the net between 1 and 35 centimeters (0.4 to 14 inches) long.

The team also categorized the animals in the layers by comparing data from two different frequencies of sonar on the AUV. For example, squids reflect sounds (sonar pings) at a frequency of 38,000 cycles per second (38 kilohertz) more strongly than sounds at 120 kilohertz, but fish reflect sound equally well at both frequencies.

By analyzing the strength and timing of the sonar pulses reflected back to the AUV, Benoit-Bird was able to estimate the sizes of individual animals in each layer and how far apart they were from their neighbors. Putting all these data together, the researchers created an index showing how similar or different each animal was from its neighbors.

The results of this analysis were surprising. It turned out that different types of animals were not randomly distributed within each layer, but formed groups with distinct boundaries. These groups consisted of animals of the same species and similar size. For example, small krill all swarmed together in a group that might be eight meters across. In the same deep scattering layer, right next to the krill swarm, might be a school of lanternfish 15 meters across, with little or no intermixing between the two groups.

The researchers also discovered that the physical extent of these groups varied depending on the size of the organisms. Smaller animals generally stayed closer to their neighbors, forming smaller groups. Most groups were about 100-animals wide in the horizontal dimension, regardless of whether they consisted of fish, squid, or shrimp. The spacing between the animals in each group was also very consistent, each animal staying at least one body length from its nearest neighbors.

The researchers speculate that these groups, consisting of lots of similar animals spaced evenly apart, could confuse visual predators such as dolphins, which target one animal at a time. This effect has previously been observed for schools of fish surrounded by open water near the sea surface, but has never before been seen in animals within deep scattering layers, where the schools are surrounded by other schools, and there is little or no sunlight. As Benoit-Bird pointed out, "Schooling was previously thought to occur mostly in surface waters, but this was just because we were limited in our perspective, looking down from the surface."

During several of their surveys, the researchers observed Risso's dolphins swimming near their research vessel. Using sonar data from the research ship and the AUVs, the team was able to track these dolphins as they swam through sound-scattering layers in search of prey (mostly squids). When a dolphin approached a group of squid, the sonar showed individual squid moving closer together until they were only half as far apart as in undisturbed groups. The squids also spaced themselves more precisely so that each animal was exactly the same distance from all of its neighbors.

Because the squids swam closer together when dolphins were around, their groups became smaller. At the same time, groups of animals on either side of the squid expanded, preventing gaps from forming between neighboring groups in the same layer. This cooperation among animals within a single layer suggests that there must be strong survival benefits in maintaining a continuous horizontal layer, and also in maintaining distinct groups within the layer.

Previous researchers have suggested that animals might just happen to congregate in deep scattering layers because they were searching for similar food or other resources. But as Benoit-Bird pointed out, "This study shows that sound-scattering layers are not just accidental aggregations; they are the result of intentional effort by both individual animals and groups of animals."

"Although we've only studied the characteristics of sound-scattering layers in Southern California so far, we know they occur all over the world," she said. "And as we are learning how much biomass is contained in these layers, we are also learning how the animals in the layers are preyed on by predators such as dolphins and tunas. Understanding how these layers form and how they are maintained in the face of predation will help us understand essential connections between the surface and deep-water food webs."

News release by Kim Fulton-Bennett

Research publication:
Benoit-Bird, K.J., M.A. Moline, and B.L. Southall (2017). Prey in oceanic sound scattering layers organize to get a little help from their friends. Limnology and Oceanography, 62: 2788-2798. doi.org/10.1002/lno.10606

For additional information or images relating to this article, please contact pressroom@mbari.org.

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Undersea robot reveals "schools" of animals in deep scattering layers * MBARI

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Throughout the world ocean, animals congregate at certain depths. A new paper in Limnology and Oceanography shows that, rather than consisting of a random mixture of animals, these deep-scattering layers contain discrete groups of squids, fishes, and crustaceans.

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Although Gumbs has in several sections now discussed various (more than there should be) endangered or almost, if not fully, distinct sea mammal species, something about the way that Gumbs describes the horrors that the Amazonian manatee has faced has had even more of an impact than some other sections. Hearing how “Not only does [the Amazonian manatee] have less space to be at home. They hunt her body. Harpoon her peace. Once upon a time… her flesh and skin were major exports for Brazil… her families, once large, have become small because of that” (Gumbs, pg. 143). This is heartbreaking. I wanted to learn more about this species of manatee and their habitat, so I found a source that provides this information.

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One Earth's "Species of the Week" series highlights an iconic species that represents the unique biogeography of each of the 185 bioregions of the Earth.
The Amazonian manatee ( Trichechus inunguis) is a unique Sirenian species. It is the only manatee inhabiting freshwater environments exclusively, specifically in the enormous Amazon basin of South America.

The Amazonian manatee ( Trichechus inunguis) is the iconic species of the Southern Amazonian Forests bioregion ( NT17), located in the Amazonia Subrealm in the Southern American Realm.

Size, color, and unique traits

It is also the smallest and darkest of the Sirenians. Adults can reach three meters (9.8 ft) in length and 450 kilograms (992 lb) in weight.

Amazonian manatees are dark gray, almost black, with a whitish or pinkish spot on the ventral area, which is distinctive for each individual. A particularity of the species is the absence of nails in the frontal flippers.

Feeding habits and ecological impact

In the Amazon, manatees are the only aquatic mammals exclusively herbivorous. Due to the exuberant richness of the basin, its diet is significantly diverse compared to other manatees.

Amazonian manatees consume more than twenty species of plants, including semiaquatic grasses, flowers, stems, fruits, seeds, and leaves of a wide variety of floating, shrubby and arboreal plants.

A manatee can consume a daily quantity of vegetation up to 10% of its body weight. Thus, a 300-kilogram (661 lb) manatee should eat 30 kilograms (66 lb) of macrophytes daily! That is a lot of food.

With this diet, manatees are believed to control the expansion of floating vegetation and return nutrients to the environment through feces and urine. Because the type of vegetation consumed is above the surface, it has been suggested that its jaw has a much lower degree of inclination than bottom-feeding manatees, such as Florida or the Great Caribbean manatee.

Although the role of manatees in the Amazonian ecosystem is still poorly understood, their presence indicates excellent habitat quality.

Amazonian manatees help balance aquatic vegetation, keeping the rivers and waterways of the Amazon healthy. Image Credit: Fábio Manfredini, Flickr.

Adaptive migration and survival strategies

Despite their slow motility, Amazonian manatees can migrate hundreds of kilometers per year as an adaptation to the hydroclimatic regime of the basin. Water depths in the Amazonian riverine system can fluctuate up to 10 meters (33 ft) from one season to another.

During periods of low water in lakes and rivers, manatees tend to stay in the deepest parts of the water bodies, where the availability of food is either scarce or completely absent. It is believed that they are able to survive during this time by fasting for several weeks.

When water levels rise, the famished manatees quickly migrate to areas where vegetation starts to appear. It is thought that males travel greater distances than females to guarantee genetic connectivity.

Challenges and innovations in research

It is almost impossible to spot an Amazonian manatee in the often murky waters of the Amazon and its tributaries. Due to their coloration, elusive and solitary behavior, and low population densities, encounters with these creatures in their natural environment are a privilege for few.

Researchers have adapted the traditional knowledge of manatee hunters to monitor Amazonian manatees in the wild. They silently wait in paddling canoes and spot the few clues of the manatee's presence as typical feeding grounds, floating feces, and even the shape of the waves.

In the last decade, the use of more sophisticated instruments, like sonar, has helped researchers detect manatees in the Amazon's dark and milky waters. But we still have a lot to understand.

The seemingly lurking nature of the Amazonian manatee has inspired Indigenous folklore and legends. Image Credit: Monica Kaneko, Animalia.bio.

Amazonian manatees in folklore and local traditions.

The secretive behavior of Amazonian manatees has inspired many legends, and it is part of the Amazonian culture and beliefs. Amazonian fishermen say that even a small movement made by the paddle makes the manatees escape, and many of them have never seen a manatee alive ( only in the cooking pot, as they often joke).

The manatee flesh and blubber are highly valued due to the flavor, which is described as a combination of pork, fish, and chicken.

Historical overhunting leading to population decline

The most intensive hunting and commercialization of Amazonian manatees occurred during the 18th century and continued until the mid-20th century. During the European colonization of South America, the Amazonian manatee was considered a large fish and was massively hunted and exported to Europe.

This uncontrolled activity caused such a decline in populations that it placed the species in a critical state of conservation.

Current threats and protection efforts

The Amazonian manatee is listed as Vulnerable (VU) on the IUCN red list and is a protected species in all the countries sharing the Amazon Basin: Brazil, Colombia, Peru, Ecuador, and Bolivia. However, poaching is still practiced.

Hunting is a traditional art that only some of the community's men know. In many communities, the expert manatee hunters are considered wise and respected elders. Manatees are traditionally hunted by harpooning, although some can be caught in fishing nets.

Usually, females with calves are an easy target for hunters, which also causes orphaned manatees as collateral damage. Due to the vastness of its areas of use, controlling hunting and the black market is challenging for environmental control agencies.

In addition to hunting, the species is also threatened by habitat alteration due to modern infrastructure, loss or degradation of floating or shore vegetation, pollution, and climate change.

Protecting these gentle giants of the Amazon is not just about preserving a species but safeguarding an entire interconnected web of life. Image Credit: Coulanges, Animalia.bio.

Conservation, rehabilitation, and environmental awareness

Although it is difficult to monitor the precise status of wild Amazonian manatee populations, it is known that their population growth is slow, with long periods of gestation and parental care. Therefore, the numbers and mortality of orphans continue to concern manatee conservationists.

Brazil pioneered Amazonian manatee recovery, funding a rescue center in the 1970s. Sirenian specialists say more than 170 Amazonian manatees are currently under human care across nine rescue centers in Brazil and Peru.

Most of the individuals are undergoing a rehabilitation process for further release to the wild, and until now, almost 97 Amazonian manatees have returned to the wild. Despite these efforts, conservationists and researchers agree on the need for environmental awareness as an essential pillar in species conservation.

Colombia, Peru, and Brazil have developed outstanding long-term awareness campaigns to protect manatees and promote local communities' incorporation in Amazonian manatee recovery.

Safeguarding the gentle giants of the Amazon

The Amazonian manatee's struggle for survival is a poignant reminder of the delicate balance of life in the Amazon and the critical need for conservation efforts. Protecting these gentle giants is not just about preserving a species but safeguarding the interconnected web of life that defines this rich ecosystem.

Enhanced conservation efforts are vital to ensure that the Amazonian manatee continues to navigate the waters of its lush, biodiverse home.

Explore Earth's Bioregions

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The ecological significance of the Amazonian manatee | One Earth

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Dive into the unique world of the Amazonian manatee and explore its adaptive survival strategies, elusive behaviors, and ongoing conservation efforts to safeguard these gentle giants of the Amazon basin.

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First, Gumbs brings up the marine otter and how she “takes care of her secrets” (Gumbs, pg. 152). This reminded me that there is most definitely a beauty in selective secrecy, or withholding personal information from strangers or acquaintances. It’s something that I’ve both seen on social media and also have learned through experience to do, not out of fear of the potential of being exposed, but rather to protect my peace, or as the title of this section directs, take care of my blessings. Second, when talking about the crabeater seal and the specific lookout role of the male-assigned seal after a mother gives birth, Gumbs describes how “researchers note that this role… may be just as important as mating itself, may be exactly the adaptation that makes this seal the most abundant on Earth,” following this with the questions, “could we be this diligent? Could we remember that protecting each other is our only future? Especially here where we protect each other not on ice, but from ICE?” (Gumbs, pg. 157). I thought this was a clever and moving play on words, and a very obvious yet important question to ask. Lastly, after describing the words of the Miami New Times as they stated that “it’s not a good time to be a manatee,” Gumbs rebuts this, saying that “maybe it is a good time to be a manatee,” as they are “graceful and loving,” “they want to protect each other and be safe,” and “they want to hear each other and be heard” (Gumbs, pg. 160). I was yet again saddened to read about the West Indian manatees’ hardships, and how they are one of the top two species that are the most threatened by the current federal administration, so I’ve linked a source that I will be using to look into the species.

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Florida Manatee - Marine Mammal Commission

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The Florida Manatee, listed under the ESA, is threatened by vessel strikes, harmful algal blooms, disturbance by swimmers, and more.

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I have developed a recent attention and interest in birth and what happens during pregnancy, what follows, and especially the mental (and obvious physical) effects that it has on the mother’s body and soul. Social media has exposed me to a side of pregnancy that I had previously never been aware of, and that is the deep importance of self-care and nurturment after giving birth. When Gumbs discussed the extreme physical change that a mother grey seal undergoes while nursing--losing thirteen pounds or 83 percent of her body weight before she begins mating again-- I was reminded of, to put it bluntly, how hard it is being a mother, and how overlooked rest and inward attention can be. One quote in particular from this section that stood out to me is when Gumbs writes, “And if I say my love is a renewable resource, then that would mean that my renewal is love. My renewal is sacred. My renewal is everything” (Gumbs, pg. 148). She is right; renewal truly is everything. This reminds me of the way motherhood and societal value of mothers differ across cultures and regions; Sweden allows mothers up to around 69 weeks of maternity leave, while the United States allows 10. Frankly, this is not surprising, and I could go on about the multitude of disparities in the U.S. (against so many marginalized groups), but this nonetheless demonstrates the deeply rooted flaws in American societal ideology and behavior, which in this day and age should have been long gone. I’ve attached both an article and a video that explore post-pardom depression and self-care strategies.

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Postpartum Depression and the Importance of Self-Care

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Postpartum depression is a common condition that affects many new mothers. Read ahead to discover the importance of self-care and seeking professional help.