I just watched a doc today called “Saving Luna”. It tells the beautiful tale of a young Orca whale who somehow lost his pod while migrating in the Pacific Ocean. L-98, as the scientists called him, ended up veering off into an area on Canada’s Pacific Northwest called Nootka Sound.
Young Luna the Killer Whale spent nearly four years living in the area. His playful and inquisitive nature lead him on many adventures. He played amidst the log booms and made friends with boaters, journalists, tourists and children. He loved the attention, but unfortunately, his mischievous ways were a danger to himself and others.
And so, his mysterious presence became the source of a massive moral and scientific debate: move him out of the area to keep him safe or let nature run its course.
Fisheries officers and the local First Nations band had a show-down as they battled for what they thought was Luna’s best interest. In the end, the fight for Luna ended with the decision to let him be. And, one day, after four years of living in Nootka Sound, he died after colliding with a tug boat.
Disney cartoon? Maybe one day. But, this doc speaks the truth. Luna was a whale; a lonely whale separated from his kind. He was smart and graceful, playful and sly. I wish I had been able to touch his head and look him in the eye.
Maybe we humans aren’t so different from our fellow mammals after all. We get lonely when we are separated from our kind and we seek love and acceptance. A few fins and blubber only make us different on the outside. I heart Luna.