DATE: Wednesday, October 8, 1997 TAG: 9710080491 SECTION: LOCAL PAGE: B1 EDITION: FINAL SOURCE: BY PAUL CLANCY, STAFF WRITER DATELINE: VIRGINIA BEACH LENGTH: 104 lines
Aided only by flashlights in the back of a panel truck, a team that rescued a whale 10 days ago and kept it alive with round-the-clock care sped to the Norfolk Naval Air Station Tuesday.
Three hours and 15 minutes later, after a short flight aboard a Navy cargo plane, the female pygmy sperm whale was swimming in a spacious pool at the National Aquarium in Baltimore.
If all goes well, the 9-foot-long, 670-pound whale will receive the kind of care that will eventually lead her back to the ocean.
An emotional farewell ended the drama that began with the rescue of the mother and her small calf on the beach at Back Bay National Wildlife Refuge. It was the first time a mother whale and her child have been rescued in the refuge.
Early Saturday morning, the male baby whale, seemingly healthy just hours before, died. He probably succumbed to infection because the mother's condition worsened temporarily, shutting down her life-protecting milk supply, doctors said.
The mother rallied over the weekend and by early Tuesday morning, as stranding team members arrived to get her ready for the trip, was acting as though she might leap out of her small pool at the Virginia Marine Science Museum's Stranding Center.
With exquisite care, the whale was hoisted from the small pool, placed in a large panel truck and driven to the air station.
She was met there by crew members of the ``Rawhides'' Fleet Logistics Support Squadron (VRC) 40 and loaded into the belly of a cargo plane.
``She's just amazing, a different animal,'' Dr. Bob George, the team's veterinarian, exclaimed Tuesday morning.
Wetsuit-clad team members got into the pool with her and slipped a stretcher, which had been coated with zinc oxide to protect her skin and fitted with holes to accommodate her pectoral fins, under her sleek body.
The whale reacted nervously, bobbing and spouting, then seemed to relax as she was lifted and transferred to a carrier lined with foam pads. Then more than a dozen men and women hoisted the hefty mammal and her carrier onto the truck.
``A couple more inches,'' stranding team director Mark Swingle called out as the carrier reached almost to the truck bed. There was a collective groan as team members strained and hoisted the animal safely inside.
Accompanied by a 10-vehicle caravan of cars, the truck, driven by marine mammal specialist Chip Harshaw, rambled along the Virginia Beach-Norfolk Expressway, to I-64, then to the naval air base.
Inside, the truck's lights didn't work and team members huddled around the whale with flashlights. Her respiratory rate had shot up during the transfer and stayed high during the first few bounces of the truck until she calmed down.
An intent Emilie Hauser, a volunteer, called out the whale's breathing rate to staff member Nancy Bourton. Volunteer Bob Marchant trained a flashlight as veterinary technician Wendy Walton bathed the whale in a steady spray of water and veterinarian George, stethoscope around his neck, looked on.
``I hope I don't have to do anything,'' he said.
Checking the whale's flukes, Walton said, ``Her right side feels good; her left side with that abscess is warm.''
Dave Schofield, a whale specialist here from the National Aquarium, suggested putting a bag of ice next to the left part of her tail. That seemed to bring the temperature down.
The whale bounced along on her suspended stretcher as if going for a swim. Her breathing rate, up as high as 17 every three minutes, settled down to a normal nine. ``I think she's got the best seat in the house,'' Walton said as the truck rumbled along.
The truck stopped on the runway at the airfield, and the light was almost blinding as the truck's back door rolled up. There sat the compact C-2 ``Greyhound'' transport plane, its wings folded and its cargo bay open.
Crew members helped unload the whale and her carrier, which seemed even heavier now that it was soaked with water.
Just before noon, the once-stranded whale was ushered into the belly of the airplane and taken on one of the most unusual journeys of her life.
The stranding team rode with her in the plane's cargo bay to Baltimore-Washington International Airport, and then to the aquarium.
Compared to the stranding center's small tank, the ``hospital pool,'' as the aquarium calls its 44-foot-long, 18-foot-deep tank, is fancy digs. If necessary, the animal can be hoisted by crane to a surgical room.
With the pool filled to about 3 feet, the team walked the whale around to acquaint her with her new surroundings. She began to swim, although a little stiffly, then helped herself to a small squid snack.
The whale will be at the aquarium for up to six months, then one day, perhaps in the spring, she will be taken out to the Gulf Stream and set free.
The effort, exhausting and time-consuming, is as rewarding to humans as it is to the whales, one of the country's leading marine mammal authorities said after hearing of the transfer.
``People naturally respond to the grace, majesty, beauty and wonder that surrounds these creatures,'' said Robbins Barstow, director emeritus of the Cetacean Society International.
``I think whales are going to be the species which will contribute most to a breakthrough in the reverence with which human beings respond to other forms of life.''
Standing at the airport runway, hair flying in the warm prop wash from the C-2, staff members embraced and applauded.
``We have hopes of being with her when she's released to the wild,'' volunteer Hauser said. ``It's such a blessed relief to see this, to be part of the mechanism that helps get her back there.'' ILLUSTRATION: Color photo
STEVE EARLEY/The Virginian-Pilot
Members of the Virginia Marine Science Museum Stranding Team ready
the pygmy sperm whale to leave the Virginia Beach stranding center
Tuesday.
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