Salish Sea Tears

“A great and sudden loss… Sk’aliCh’elh-tenaut (Tokitae / Lolita) has walked on. This was sudden and unexpected. Our grief is heavy. Right now, we have no words.” This was the news sent out by the Sacred Lands Conservancy at SacredSea.Org. Their expression is quite appropriate, there are no words. Tokitae was in her tank for a long time, since 1970 in fact. This past August the 4th marks the 53rd year of her captivity. The day of her capture was sunny, quite windy, and had a temperature throughout the day that measured between 53-64 degrees fahrenheit (12-18 degrees celsius). Since her capture and relocation to Miami Seaquarium on September 24th of 1970, she spent all her time in a tank that is not even the size of a basketball court under the blistering Miami sun. For five decades, she resided there. For every event this reader may have been to in the last fifty years, Tokitae was swimming in the same cramped space.

The Lummi Nation, indigenous peoples of northwest Washington state, have taken a special interest in her. Doug James of the Lummi Nation tells the story of when he became aware of the Tokitae, whose home was in their tribal waters. He said the following:

“When we were in Portland, this lady from Vancouver Washington came to meet us. I asked her her name, it was Jennifer. [She said] I carried this message for two years and I didn’t know where to go with it. I’m a dreamer and a receiver… I received this vision from a 14 year-old Down Syndrome girl out of New York that received a message from a whale down in Miami. She said that his whale had been crying out over and over and over again, asking, ‘Is there anybody out there that can hear me? Anybody hear me? I want to go home, I want to go home.. Can anybody help me go home.’ [Jennifer] said, ‘Do you think Lummi could do anything for this whale?’ I didn’t know anything about the whale then, and said well we have to stay the course that we’re on, let’s put it to prayer and see where it goes. So her and I got together and we prayed together that night.”

When performing ceremonies for Tokitae, a cedar wreath is floated into the water so that she can smell her home. It is inspired by the Lummi belief that Salmon find their way back to their home by the smell of cedar. A drum is beat to represent one mind and one heartbeat between humans and Orcas. Orcas have the same average body temperature as humans, about 98.6 degrees fahrenheit. When they breach regularly, their heart rate is sixty beats per minute, which is also similar to that of humans.

Public disapproval of Orca Captivity has existed, but for many decades it was mostly hippies and hipsters that took issue with it and they were largely dismissed as flakey extremists. Marine biologists always knew that Orcas were too intelligent to be held prisoner in small tanks, but their voices were drowned out by companies like SeaWorld, which had accrued billions of dollars in the business and controlled the narrative for decades. Protests vying for Tokitae’s release have been going on for a long time. In the documentary, “The Walrus and the Whistleblower” an unnamed woman stated, “We’re like four generations at this protest, which is very sad.” She becomes visibly emotional and continues, “Our grandmother used to do it, then my mom. Now myself and my son.”

On October 14th of 2022, two massive pieces of good news were broken by the WPLG Local 10 news station. The first was that Tokitae’s increasingly tumultuous health was greatly improving. The second was, incredibly, that if her health continued to improve then The Dolphin Company was open to moving her to a seaside sanctuary in Washington state. After months of hoping that the Miami Seaquarium’s new owners would be receptive to Tokitae’s advocates, we finally had the news we were looking for: if Tokitae continued to get better, she would go home.

On March 30th of this year, it was revealed that Indianapolis Colts Owner Jim Irsay was backing a $20 million plan to release Tokitae in cooperation with a legally binding agreement with the Miami Seaquarium. Finally it seemed that someone with resources cared enough about her plight to commit much-need and serious funds to her cause. This was the source of great hope and inspiration. Finally Tokitae would be removed from her small space, once again feel the current of her home in the Salish Sea, and hopefully hear the calls of passing resident orca pods (one of which may have included her mother, Ocean Sun).

Yet here we sit not even five months later, left to pick up the broken pieces of a dream that was closer than ever to being a reality, a prayer one flight away from being fulfilled. Her release would have meant a better and happy life for her, a return to waters she undoubtedly still remembered. It would have also sent a message to the likes of SeaWorld that captivity need not be permanent. Now all of those aspirations are left in uncertain territory.

Tokitae deserved so much better. I truly and completely believed we could get her out of there in time. I don't know what I will do now after she has been my first thought in the morning and my last as I fall asleep at night for years. So many people had their hearts set on her freedom. With that in mind, we send our thanks and utmost condolences to everyone who love, cared, and fought for her, including Bonnie Swift, whose Audible podcast, “Tokitae,” has informed this article and contains a wealth of information on Tokitae and the history of Orca Capture. We will return to fight another day. A mighty tree has fallen on a day we shall now never forget.

Below is the photo that has been my desktop background from the moment I saw it:

For now, we mourn. This is not okay, and it never will be. A poem for Toki:

This way, Toki, you’re free

You’'ll swim away from here

Up from this stone room

Into this spirit blue, you will reappear

We miss you now, and always will,

Wish we could see, what you see

But find your place, just be still

We know you will, there be happy

- Pierson, August 18th, 2023