11/19/03: Kokomo through the eyes of K. Dundorf

Following my dream to swim with the dolphins, I had another life altering experience. Several people mentioned that Dolphins Plus in Key Largo was THE place to go because of their care and commitment to the animals. Off I headed in my new 1984 VW Vanagon. Sleeping in the van along the way, I was eager to participate in the half hour “unstructured swim”. Along with about 8 other people, we entered the water with our snorkel gear on. The 3 dolphins in our pen seemed to be ignoring us. It was up to them to initiate any contact. After a bit, I noticed dolphins along the fence in the next pen. They seemed to be watching us. Within moments, I was swimming back and forth along the fence with a young bottlenose dolphin named Cosmo. His folks (LB and Dinghy) watched on protectively and occasionally joined in the fun. It was great being so close, looking in his eyes, having him look back and swimming together despite my urge to jump over the fence that separated us.

After that short time in the heat, humidity and sun, everything in me felt wilted. My only thought was getting north to a cooler climate and even the blizzard of 2003 sounded better. Hearing about a stranded whale that was being cared for in Key Largo , I figured I could stop by the Marine Mammal Conservancy for a few minutes on the way out of town.

The care and commitment of everyone there inspired me. I wanted to help too, so I stayed. Art Cooper, one of the supervisors, cheerfully explained that people needed to be in the water with him all the time. Eagerly I put on a wet suit and spend a 4-hour shift in the water with this whale named Kokomo . There were 3 or 4 people around him to keep him wet and safe. While at the head, the job was keeping my body between him and the edge of the pen, and away from the dock or sharp rocks in the shallow areas. When he got too close, I would push him back. What an amazing thing to push around a 1200 pound whale.

The Center for the Marine Mammal Conservancy is still under construction, so it was a huge effort to organize this recovery project. Tables, record books, volunteer sign up sheets, info about MMC, cell phones and chairs for supervisors filled one tent. A supply of water and food for the all-volunteer team filled another. Food and medical supplies for Kokomo were in The Fish Truck. The outdoor shower ran hot or cold depending on the time of day. The lovely portable toilet added to the camp atmosphere.

Despite the heat, I stayed and helped in any way I could. There were fish to peel for the protein drink which Kokomo received several times a day. Feeding time required extra hands for pouring the drink and medication in a funnel that went into a tube inserted down his throat. After this he was treated to some squid. His vitals and progress were recorded in the logbooks. Being in the water with Kokomo was fun but there were so many other things needing to be done to help that I stayed another day and another and another.

Hundreds of spectators stopped by. The residents in the area, and vacationers from around the country wanted to see the whale. Hearing all about the project they would often volunteer. After a few days of listening to the supervisors talk to the many spectators, I found I could answer many of the questions also. This was an older Pygmy Sperm Whale that was found by the Coast Guard on January 22nd . He was sick (dehydrated, pneumonia and parasites) and injured probably by a spear. Due to the cold weather then, the Marine Mammal Conservancy transported him to the only heated salt water pool on the Keys. After he stabilized he was moved to the salt-water lagoon on Key Largo’s bay side, at the MMC.

Scheduling volunteers around the clock was a challenge, especially the night shifts. I liked the 7-11pm or 3-7am shifts since it kept me out of the brutal sun. A lovely benefit was the beautiful sunset and sunrises along with the silvery shimmer of the full moon on the lagoon. Without all the spectators and visitors, this time had a calming peace.and a soothing quiet.

Being an artist, I spend a lot of time drawing and painting Kokomo. He has a split dorsal fin probably from an earlier injury. This unique feature would enable anyone to instantly recognize him in the wild, even without a tag. One piece of art, “Feeding Time” seemed to capture the essence of Kokomo and the volunteers. It was so satisfying to see people moved by this piece and wanting prints of the artwork.

Wednesday morning February 26th I was in the water again. This time it was at 11am and I had the best time with Kokomo. He had a rough night before with the pneumonia acting up. When I got in the water he started swimming around more. This seemed to be a good sign. With swim goggles, I was able to look at him eye to eye under the water. It was even fun when he bobbed me under the water, as he attempted to keep his fragile skin wet. A roll of underwater film captured this special time swimming together, holding him, playing and keeping him safe. We even held the umbrella over him to prevent sunburn. Throughout the day he was rolling a lot more, probably because of the pneumonia, but it gave us some wonder-filled views of his eyes, fins and light belly.

After a full day of helping, I was ready for a full night of sleep (in my van nearby). It was shocking to get woken in the middle of the night. Kokomo has just died at 12:15 am. Filled with sadness, I joined the handful of people at the site. Kokomo was kept cool with ice, until he would be transported in the morning for the necropsy (autopsy on animals) to determine the cause of death. The generator that noisily provided light and electricity was turned off. There was a quiet reverence in the dark of night. People finished packing up the site. The grief was thick in the air and it was hard to deal with the overflowing feelings. I lit a candle and walked it down to the dock where just hours ago we had fed Kokomo. The flickering light and the smell of the citronella candle surrounded me as I mirrored the unusual stillness of the water. In a moment of awe, I noticed 5 birds in flight overhead like a military funeral. It felt like the birds were escorting Kokomo’s spirit off to the great beyond.

So much was learned during this recovery effort that will help in the future. Hundred and hundreds of volunteer worked to help Kokomo. I estimated that during the 36 days he was with us, over 4,000 hours were volunteered. Hundred’s more stopped by to see him. In such a short time he impacted so many lives. We are richer because of this experience. If I knew how it would turn out.I would do it again. Like so many expressed in the days after his passing, “You touched our lives and our hearts. Kokomo, we will always remember you.”

The professionals of the MMC (all volunteers) have put in long hours while working other jobs or putting their lives on hold. It was an honor to work with these individuals. Learn how you can support this organization at www.marinemammalconservancy.org Stop by the MMC if you are in the area. Add this to your stops on vacation. You may also discover that volunteering is the most rewarding way to spend your time, and an experience you can CHERISH FOR LIFE. I did!

A Volunteer’s Story

This story begins on a night dive at Molasses reef, Monday June 3rd 2002. While watching my six divers’ lights bounce around the nearby reef, I spotted what appeared to be a snorkeler approaching the dive boat. It actually turned out to be a commercial diver (snorkeling so I wasn’t seeing things) from a research tugboat anchored nearby. The tug is supporting a reef-rebuilding project recreating and repopulating the reef profile destroyed by the 1986 grounding of the freighter Wellwood (1986).

He introduced himself as Wil Kilmer and asked for passage to shore for himself and a colleague, as the NOAA transport boat was down and unable to pick them up. I gladly obliged and after all the divers returned, we moored along side the tug and picked up his friend and their gear. During the dive and the trip back to Port Largo canal, Wil briefed us on the efforts and progress of the restoration project, but that is a story for another time.

Wil returned to BlueWater Divers on Wednesday to express his thanks for the ride and check the dive schedule for wreck trips. While there he briefed us on the rare Dwarf Sperm whale stranding in Naples and its transport to Key Largo. It was an interesting opportunity that he couldn’t pass up and was extending his stay in Key Largo to assist in the rescue efforts. He also informed us that many volunteers would be needed to assist the whale 24 hours a day.

On Thursday June 5th 2002, my wife (Mary) and I visited the Marine Mammal Conservancy’s makeshift facility at Mile Marker 102 Overseas Highway in Key Largo and applied as volunteers. The volunteers were scheduled in 4-hour shifts to keep the whale (nicknamed “Doc”) afloat and moving. To our surprise there were many volunteers signed up and the schedule was full through late Friday night. Seeing a need for the difficult night shifts we chose to take the 3am to 7am shift on Saturday morning.

After a few short hours of sleep Friday night, we answered the alarm and geared up for our shift. We were surprised to see the facility nearly as active as it had been on our first visit. The soft hum of a generator provided lighting for the briefing and staging area as well as soft lighting for the recovery lagoon containing Doc and his current batch of lifeguards.

We were welcomed by our new friend Wil Kilmer accompanied by the Director of Husbandry for the Marine Mammal Conservancy. He gathered the oncoming shift and provided a thorough briefing on the handling of marine mammals in general, the Dwarf Sperm Whale more specifically, and the individual male we would be assisting in particular. Mary and I were assigned the first in water shift and prepared to enter the lagoon. The staff double-checked us for jewelry, untrimmed fingernails and abrasive surfaces (we wore back zippered wetsuits to decrease the chance of causing additional abrasions.

An experienced marine mammal handler accompanies all volunteer teams. We were assigned to a handler who went in first and slowly replaced his counterpart supporting Doc’s head. I went in next, walking slowly and making eye contact all the way. Doc seemed calm and comfortable as I replaced the volunteer giving support between the pectoral and dorsal fins. Mary then replaced the volunteer at the dorsal fin and the handler began leading the whale on his exercise routine: slow laps around the shallow lagoon.

Answering the breakfast call
	Squid fed through a straw

Doc seemed alert and in good spirits. His skin was smooth and much softer than I expected, seeming quite fragile and reminding me of the cautions imparted at the briefing. He often nuzzled his handler and even chirped a few sonar pings during our 2-hour swim. He required very little support but occasionally listed to starboard requiring some help to get upright. We took only one break from our leisurely stroll with Doc for a 5-minute heart rate and respiration check. Mary was enlisted to take the pulse (thanks to her nursing degree I’ll bet), and we were told that 41 is actually a very good rate for this species. We reluctantly handed Doc off to our relief crew at 5 a.m. While a dry towel was comforting, I’d have rather spent more time with Doc. We sat on the shore of that little lagoon watching our new friend continue his exercise until the shift change at 7 a.m.

The morning shift brought renewed levels of activity in camp as many volunteers returned or simply rolled out of their sleeping bags to begin the day’s tasks. First off was the morning feeding; on the menu that morning was squid soup, Doc’s favorite I was told. After breakfast Doc seemed a little pensive, I think he knew what was next on his schedule.

Mary was once again enlisted to assist with a few simple medical procedures. First was drawing blood, which was done from a vein on the centerline near his fluke. Mary was lucky enough to be spinning the blood samples in the on-site centrifuge when Doc submitted to an enema and stool sample. I can’t speak for Doc, but I sure was exhausted by this time and fell asleep in a lawn chair by the lagoon. Real life did not cooperate with this course of action and I was rudely summoned to the mid day dive trip back at BlueWater Divers. Thus ended my first night with Doc the Dwarf Sperm whale.

	Getting the blood sample
Showing his fluke for blood draw

The next several days involved much activity surrounding the attempted re-sinking of the Spiegel Grove, but I was determined to return to assist with Doc. A quick stop on Monday determined that no one had signed up for the 11pm to 3am shift Tuesday night, so I signed up for it.

Upon arriving Tuesday night the scene was more subdued than I had seen it before. I met the president of the Marine Mammal Conservancy, Robert Lingenfelser, and received my briefing directly from him. The briefing included how to support and exercise Doc without any assistance and some disheartening news about his prognosis. Due to some observed bloating of the torso area the vets speculated that Doc had a perforation somewhere in his digestive tract and had little or no chance for a recovery. Those present were noticeably more somber than at the first visit. It was now a matter of keeping him comfortable and preventing any additional injury.

Doc is 8 feet long and weighs over 350 pounds. He was sluggish and not moving much under his own power. It was quite a challenge to keep him moving and upright. We took 10 minute shifts giving ourselves frequent breaks to rest and stretch. The 4 hours passed quickly.

I will likely not see Doc again, but I will never forget him or the many caring individuals that he brought together for me to meet. Young and old, tourists and locals, professionals and laymen, we were all the same. Doc would say thank you for caring if he could. Since he can not, I will. Thank you all.

Cary Wien
BlueWater Divers of Key Largo
Info@BlueWaterDiver.net

Marine Mammal Conservancy
PO Box 1625
Key Largo FL 33037-1625
(305) 451-4774

Friday, June 14th, 2002 – Doc’s bloating had diminished some and he was not “septic” as anticipated.

Saturday, June 15th, 2002 –Marine mammal specialists arrived with portable X-ray and MRI equipment to aid in his diagnosis and treatment, but Doc’s time with us was over. His necropsy indicated that this little whale was well into his maturity and had suffered from what appeared to be severe cardiomyopathy, a condition common in deepwater species, compromising heart function.