Pilot Whales

On Monday my friend Jennifer called and said she'd heard that there were five dead pilot whales at the airport beach. I had a stomach bug and resisted at first but JA coerced me to hop on the motorbike with him to check it out. I'm really glad he did.

When we arrived, Loretta (family friend, island veterinarian, and Whale Shark Oceanic Research person) was on the scene to investigate. The current theory is that the largest was the mother who had been ill and beached herself to die. Unfortunately some young whales, potentially her children, had followed and gotten stuck. They were all dead when discovered Monday morning. It was sad but also an incredible experience to touch their smooth skin and be so close to a creature I'd only seen in pictures.



Marcos (one of the kids in my book club) was beside himself. He wants to be a marine biologist. Climbing on dead whales is the kind of experience he didn't have when he lived in Florida a few years ago.

He was fearless. Together JA and Marcos opened the mouth, poked around the eyeballs, and checked out the blow hole.


Loretta, leaving the scene. An autopsy was discussed but in the end not performed. Last night I heard that one of the skeletons will be saved for the Utila Museum.

They have really kind faces. And if I imagine they'd have kind of low, dopey voices. Eeyores of the sea.

One of them threw up some massive squid bits.


One of the young whales. For some reason everyone was standing on them. Not sure what it is about a dead whale that just begs to be stood on.

This is the presumed mother. She was larger and had white bleach marks which was the basis for the belief she was old or ill.