WHALEWATCHER
Journal of the American Cetacean Society

2020 • VOL. 43 • NO. 1

BREAKINGTHE
SURFACEWOMENofCETOLOGYHumpback calf. Photo by Jo Marie Acebes.

Editorial Pod
LEAD EDITOR
Sabena Siddiqui

On the Cover

The Caldwells recording
vocalizations of abottlenose dolphin at
Marineland of Florida.

Read about our Board Members atacsonline.org

PRESIDENTUko Gorter

ASSISTANT EDITORS
Diane GlimUko Gorter
Kelsey Stone

SECRETARY
Diane GlimPRODUCTION ARTIST
Rose Freidin

TREASURER
Ric Matthews

AMERICAN CETACEAN SOCIETY
P.O. Box 51691
Pacific Grove, CA 93950

Shelby Kasberger, Conservation Chair
Joy Primrose
Sabena Siddiqui, Student Chair
Kelsey Stone, Social Media Manager
Jayne Vanderhagen
Bob Wilson

Photo by: Marineland of Florida

acsonline.org

2

ACS National Board of Directors

BRE AK ING THE SURFACE WOMEN OF CETOLOGYACS Team Members

Kara Henderlight, Advocacy Chair

Letterfrom the President Uko GorterYou may have noticed that this special
issue of our Whalewatcher journal is
not really about whales. Instead, it isabout humans. Women, to be more precise.
For anyone who has attended a marine
mammal science conference recently,
you would have immediately noticed themultitude of women in attendance. They
far outnumber their male counterparts. Of
course, this wasn’t always so.
For centuries, the scientific discipline of thestudy of whales—like so many others—
was dominated by men. Nowadays we’reso used to seeing women working in thisfield today that we have grown accustomed
to the idea of equality in science. However,even today men still hold many of the mostsenior positions in academic institutions.

We thought it was high time to look backand see how far women have come in thefield of cetology, or the study of whales. We
also wanted to hear from women scientists
who are working in the field today, or
recently retired. The results are essays froma wonderful mix of women from different
generations, backgrounds, and career
stages. You will read about their struggles
and achievements in their academic andcareer paths. They also impart somevaluable wisdom and a unique perspective
for young women (and men!) entering thefield of cetology today. Their stories are fun,insightful, and immensely inspiring. Above
all, we hope this issue honors the pioneering
women who paved the way, and celebrates
all women who have, and continue to study
cetaceans for many decades to come.

Three members of the LA Pod travel along Palos Verdes, headed toward our Gray Whale Census, February 1988.
Female CA2 - “The “Whale That Ate Jaws” - is in the middle of this trio; in October 1997, she killed a great white shark
off of the Farallon Islands, and ate its liver. Photo by Alisa Schulman-Janiger.

I want to express my gratitude to our ACS
National Board Member, Sabena Siddiqui,
who served as our lead Editor for thiswonderful issue. Sabena has deftly guided
the process with immense patience andsensitivity. It is because of her efforts,
while still navigating her own academic
work, that this unique special issue has
been made possible. We are indebted to
all the incredible women scientists who
have contributed to this issue. None ofthem were used to writing so openly about
themselves and their careers. They havedone so with grace and from the heart.

Uko Gorter, president

WHALEWATCHER 2020

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Contents
Left: Christina Lockyer in Glacier Bay on a humpback whale survey. Middle: On his fourth attempt. male Bigg’s transient killer whale T069C smacks a harbor seal with his flukes and sends it sailingabout 80 feet into the air just off Victoria, BC in October 2015. Photo by Alisa Schulman-Janiger. Right: Dusky Dolphin in Kaikoura, NZ. Photo by Mridula Srinivasan.

6

13

8

19

Challenges Faced by
Women in STEM
Infographic
Cara Gallagher

Editor’s Introduction
Mapping Our Path:
Charting the Way Forward
Sabena Siddiqui

Finding The Path:
Navigating ThroughTricky Waters
Sally Mizroch

An Accidental Acoustician
K ate Stafford

23

The Oddity EffectMridula Srinivasan

427

Sea Change:
Reflections on a
Career as a Female
Marine Mammal Scientist
Lisa T. Ballance

30

From Bats, to Seals,
Dolphins and Whales–
A Global Trek to
Make a Difference
Sofie Van Parijs

35

When a Whale
Lands on Your Lap
Jo Marie Acebes
BRE AK ING THE SURFACE WOMEN OF CETOLOGY

41

Studying Dolphinsin the Wild: My Story
Denise L. Herzing

45

Dugongs andDolphins in Asia:
An International
Research Story
Ellen Hines

51

Making Choices andFinding Balance as a
Marine Mammal
Scientist and Parent
Alison Stimpert

Left: Atlantic spotted dolphins. Photo by Denise Herzing.
Top: Gray whale fluke taken in 2015 during a small boat
photo-identification survey off the west coast of Vancouver
Island. NOAA Permit 14097. Photo by Alisa Schulman-Janiger.
Bottom: Alisa using Big-Eye binoculars to scan for cetaceans
and other marine mammals off of the west coast of
Vancouver Island, on the RV Reuben Lasker, during the NOAA
Fisheries 2015 Collaborative Large Whale Survey (CLaWS) in
November. Photo courtesy of Alisa Schulman-Janiger.

55

Hoist Your Sail
When the Windis Fair
Yoko Mitani

58

Bridging Cetacean
Research to the PublicThrough Education andCitizen Science
Alisa Schulman-Janiger

64

Don’t Let the ‘-Isms’
Get You Down
Naomi Rose

68

From Savanna to Sea:
33 Years Studying
Bottlenose Dolphins
Janet Mann

72

My Journey to
Scholar Advocacy
Lori Marino

75

Although They
Laughed at Me,
I Dolphinitely
Carried On
Louisa Ponnampalam

80

From Arctic Crashes toConserving the Vaquita:
Adventures of a Marine
Mammal Biologist
Barbara Taylor

82

A Lifetime ofMarine Mammal Studies
Christina Lockyer

88

94

Author Biographies

98

Exploring the World ofWomen in Marine Mammal
Science and Stem
Women of Marine Mammal
Studies (WIMMS)

99

ACS Donation FormFirst Surfacings:
The Early Women Pioneers
Uko Gorter
WHALEWATCHER 2020

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5ced bycha�enges fa

Women in STEM
Science, Technology,
Engineering, and Mathematics

While women make up
44% of full-time employees
they represent 66%
of part-time workers

This is driven
primarily by
women being

and 74% of people who are
unemployed and not seeking work

Additionally, women may
be ranked as being lesshireable and competent thanmen based on CVs alone2

4.6x

more likely to notseek work due tofamily responsibilities

CV

CV

1

2

Women continue to get paid less for equal work...

er
d
n
e
g
The
ap
g
e
wag xists Women employed inescience and engineering aresti�
paid 82¢ to the dollar

wage gap reported fortenure track academics3

1

Awards received by
women are of lower value(and are less prestigious)4...and experience high rates of sexual harassment and gender bias

Women in working environments
where they are outnumbered bymen or where leadership is maledominated experience higher
rates of sexual harassment5

In biology undergraduate classes,of students reported
having experienced
gender bias
reported incidents
of sexual harassment atleast once in the past year6

While the percentage of womenis increasing in some fields...

gender bias isn't uniqueto male-dominated disciplines

Even in balanced ﬁelds women...
face descrimination,
are underestimated by peers,of students identified
experiences of
discrimination throughout
their degree7
6

Men are more likely than
women to be named by theirpeers as being knowledgeable
about course content8

BREAK ING THE SURFACE WOMEN OF CETOLOGYGender bias frompeers and sexual
harassment from
instructors negatively
affected STEM motivationand career aspirations6and work harder for less credit
Though male PhD students
spent less time engaged inresearch, they weremore likely to belisted as an author
on publications9
Infographic by Cara Gallagher@CaraAGallagher

the ine'mro
Fr n Ma iativesint
men ence I !10oiWl Sc urveyamm 1 7 S
Ma

20

47%

ba�iers to succe� in

MARINE MAMMALSCIENCE

62%

44%
Women were underrepresented
in supervisory and leadership
positions46%

of women experienced negative
assumptions of their competenceor commitment to work after
having childrenof women reported having to provide
more evidence of competence
than their male colleagues

58%
of women experienced
instances of gender bias
throughout their career

Women experience more bullying, harassment, and discrimination
51.5% report bullying or harassment

45.4% report discrimination

Many of the surveyed women reported being sexuallyharassed by superiors during their career
Though many reported harassment, few perpetrators, many of whom were in leadershipor supervisory positions, faced any consequences. Women who have reported theseincidents have lost productive communication, lost control or authorship of their research,
had to change research groups, and even lost their jobs. These incidents often occured inremote locations during ﬁeldwork.
1

NSF 2019 Report "Women, Minorities, and Persons with Disabilities in Science and Engineering" - https://ncses.nsf.gov/pubs/nsf19304/digest
Eaton, A.A., Saunders, J.F., Jacobson, R.K. and West, K., 2020. How gender and race stereotypes impact the advancement of scholars in STEM: Professors’ biased evaluations of physics andbiology post-doctoral candidates. Sex Roles, 82(3-4), pp.127-141.
3
Chen, J.J. and Crown, D., 2019. The gender pay gap in academia: Evidence from the Ohio state university. American Journal of Agricultural Economics, 101(5), pp.1337-1352.
4
Ma, Y., Oliveira, D.F., Woodruff, T.K. and Uzzi, B., 2019. Women who win prizes get less money and prestige. Nature, 565, pp.287-288.
5
National Academies of Sciences, Engineering, and Medicine, 2018. Sexual harassment of women: climate, culture, and consequences in academic sciences, engineering, and medicine. National
Academies Press.
6
Leaper, C. and Starr, C.R., 2019. Helping and hindering undergraduate women’s STEM motivation: experiences With STEM encouragement, STEM-related gender bias, and sexual harassment.
Psychology of Women Quarterly, 43(2), pp.165-183.
7
Fisher, C.R., Thompson, C.D. and Brookes, R.H., 2020. ‘95% of the time things have been okay’: the experience of undergraduate students in science disciplines with higher female representation.
International Journal of Science Education, pp.1-17.
8
Grunspan, D.Z., Eddy, S.L., Brownell, S.E., Wiggins, B.L., Crowe, A.J. and Goodreau, S.M., 2016. Males under-estimate academic performance of their female peers in undergraduate biology
classrooms. PloS one, 11(2).
9Feldon, D.F., Peugh, J., Maher, M.A., Roksa, J. and Tofel-Grehl, C., 2017. Time-to-credit gender inequities of ﬁrst-year PhD students in the biological sciences. CBE—Life Sciences Education, 16(1).
10
WHALEWATCHER
2020
acsonline.org
Women in Marine Mammal Science. "Women in marine mammal science:breaking down barriers to success Workshop Report"- https://wimms.weebly.com/
27

Editor’s
introduction

Mapping
Our Path:

Charting
the Way Forward
Sabena Siddiqui

8

BRE AK ING THE SURFACE WOMEN OF CETOLOGYCompeting male humpback whales
off Maui, Hawaii.
Photo by Adam Pack under NMFS
Permit #14585-01.
Page 8: Sabena Siddiqui conducting
fish surveys at an offshore reef in
The Red Sea off Egypt.
Photo courtesy of Sabena Siddiqui.

In these pages you will find articles
written by phenomenal cetacean
scientists detailing incredibleadventures throughout their careers
studying the lives of whales, dolphins,
and porpoises. Together these stories
shine a light on some of the triumphs
and tribulations faced by the league of
women in cetology. When I took on thistask as editor, I expected a degree of
hesitation from authors about getting too
personal, but I did not as much anticipate
the challenge of getting authors to detailtheir achievements. These are, after all,incredibly accomplished scientists! There’s
often a hesitancy to acknowledge ourown accomplishments, but this is exactly
why it is beneficial to take a moment tocelebrate the successes of these innovative
scientists. The main goals of this issue areto highlight contemporary scientists who
have defined and continue to redefine
the field of cetology, while also taking
a dive into the history of early womenscientists whose work was foundational forour current understanding of cetaceans.
Taking a step back to reflect on howhistory has led up to this current momentshows how far we have come. Celebrating
how far women in Science, Technology,
Engineering, and Mathematics (STEM)
have come is just as important as mapping
our path onward.
I would like to address potential
misconceptions some readers may haveprior to starting this edition. Celebrating
the accomplishments of women scientists
does not intend to overshadow theaccomplishments of others. The goal is not
to create a gender divide, but to celebrate
the tenacity of these scientists and theirjourneys. Many authors express their
gratitude for their supportive male mentors
who helped guide them, showing the
crucial role that allies can play in enrichingacademia. For those readers who want
to become allies, ask yourself and yourcolleagues, “How can we help?”. Continue
educating yourself, continue listening, andkeep working towards the mutual goals ofadvancing cetology for the betterment of
the planet and its inhabitants. The push
for equality is not an attempt to flip theswitch by placing one gender over theother, rather the goal is to level the playing
field so that everyone has more access tothe same opportunities. As you read eachstory you will note that there is no uniform
method in which each author advancedin their careers. The journeys of each ofthese trailblazing scientists help to shatterpreconceived notions about how a woman
is supposed to think, act, or react. Women
cannot be reduced or simplified. Theirstories show us that women can succeed
and flourish in spaces which originallymay have been wary of their presence.
Many authors have shared their hardearned lessons and their advice forstudents throughout this publication. As
the Student Chair of ACS, I will provide
examples from my own perspective as a
student for others pursuing a career in thisfield. It is my hope that reading this helps
to inspire the next generation of scientists,
naturalists, and conservationists. While
there is no blanket strategy that suits
everyone, there are specific barriers that
pop up for women pursuing STEM. These
challenges begin to lose power once they
are identified, only then can a strategy
be deployed to address these barriers.

Fortunately, there are entire fields ofscience equipped with the methodology
and tools to identify what these obstacles
are and how they impact women in STEM.
Powerful stories lay ahead, but first let’s
take a look at some of the most common
obstacles encountered by women pursuing
careers in science, as shown by those I have
faced in my career.

Fueling the
Imagination

In recent years, cetology has generated
fascinating and illuminating discoveries
about culture, social learning andthe existence of cetacean societies.
As a species heavily reliant upon ourcapacity for culture ourselves, humans
are profoundly influenced by cultural
practices and social learning in ourdevelopment. As such, we are continuallyshaped through the images and concepts
we are exposed to over the course of ourlifetime. Representation matters and it can
influence how far our imagination extends
and how the next generation moves theworld of cetacean science forward. While
cultural expectations put upon us can belimiting, they can also supply fuel for theimaginations of future generations.
Born in India, my family moved to Indiana
when I was young, so I had never seen
the ocean. My parents did not even know
how to swim themselves and Indiana is
not exactly a center of maritime culture.
Nevertheless, I was infatuated from ayoung age simply by reading about animals
and watching them in nature films. I
spent my childhood pouring over marine
mammal books at the local library andbinge-watching nature documentaries.
The enthusiastic men who starred in
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9Sabena with fellow ACS Student
Coalition leaders after theirpresentation at the 2018 ACS
conference in Newport Beach, CA.
From left to right: Becca Katz, Jazmin
Helzer, Kaitlyn Kush, Sabena Siddiqui,
Michaela Setzer, Shelby Kasberger,
and Kara Henderlight.
Photo courtesy of Sabena Siddiqui.
Page 11: Sabena using a receiver todetermine the location of an acoustic
tag placed on a humpback whale theday before off Maui, Hawaii.
Photo courtesy of Sabena Siddiqui.

Sabena Siddiqui Cont.

nature shows inhabited my imagination,
but female figures like Sylvia Earle, Jane
Goodall, and even animated ones like Eliza
Thornberry, extended that possibility thatperhaps that could be me one day. My
parents believed there were a select few
career paths for me as a Muslim Indian
woman. In their eyes, marine biology
should be pursued only as a hobby, not a
career. Thankfully, I chose to carve myown path with the support of my sisterand friends. When I got in touch with ACS
and founded the ACS Student Coalition,
I discovered a new network of support.
What I started as a marine conservationclub at Indiana University grew andbecame a network of campus groups
around the country. When I transitioned
from an undergraduate student to a
graduate student, I shifted my efforts
from helping lead my campus group to
mentoring and guiding students who are
now leading their own groups. Each groupfocuses on educating their members andthe public about cetaceans and marine
conservation, while also undertaking
projects to directly affect the environments
around them. ACS student groups have
performed water quality testing andcleanups in their own communities,
lobbied for conservation legislation, ledlocal anti-plastics campaigns and muchmore. Over the course of the last nine
years as Student Chair of ACS, I have had
the opportunity and pleasure of working
with many rising scientists, naturalists andconservationists through career workshops
I have organized at ACS conferences
and through the ACS student coalition
activities. The other ACS student leaders
have been the greatest source of support I
have cherished as I have pursued my own

10career. Together we have not only created a
network for conservation that helps each ofus better reach our communities, but alsoa supportive culture within our network.
They have been an ongoing source ofinspiration for me and for each other,helping to guide and support one anotheras many have gone on to careers in marine
conservation and STEM fields. The ACS
Student Leaders have managed to combine
their enthusiasm for science with theircommitment to applying their knowledge
to real world issues. Their determination
to solve problems and further sciencesymbolize hope for future generations. My
experience working with other students
has provided a detailed and varied insightfor the current climate that students inmarine mammal science and conservationin general face.

The Little
ThingsAlthough I have had many rewarding
experiences thus far, I have encounteredhurdles. These stumbling blocks come inmany shapes and sizes. While society hascome a long way on denouncing some overt
and obvious barriers, there are barriers thatare more subversive. Scientific research in
the fields of sociology and psychology have
explored the impact of blatant aggressions
as well as microaggressions (Nadal et al.,2011). For example, I remember how excited
I was to tell my undergraduate biology
professor that I had been accepted to the
ACS and Society for Marine Mammalogy(SMM) conferences (finally I’d be among
others who share the same interests!) topresent my first research poster. I also
remember that feeling dissolving into
confusion and fear when he said, “Be
careful, there’s a lot of ‘skirt chasing’

BRE AK ING THE SURFACE WOMEN OF CETOLOGY

that happens at these conferences”. This
resulted in me spending more of my energy
concerned about his caution, rather than
networking. Other little things continued tohappen as I pursued my career. During anoverseas field research experience, I was inmy early 20s and preparing to explore thelocal town with my fellow interns. The fieldresearcher’s husband was also heading out
for the night life when he turned to us (allyoung women) and told us he was “sorry
if he acts weird while drunk” and for us
to tell him he’s “being a jerk”. My second
undergraduate research poster presentation
was on manatee communication at an
animal behavior conference in Indiana
where I was the only person of color. I
rehearsed my poster under my breath as I
patiently watched the poster judge listen
to each of the presenters near me with asmile and with questions. When the judge
arrived at my poster, he didn’t say a word.
The judge, an older white man, cut me
off before I finished my presentation andmoved on without asking any questions.
I watched as he brought back his smile
and asked the other presenters questions.
Maybe this academic had a grave dislikeof manatees (unlikely, they’re awesome!),or maybe he felt that I did not belong
there. Either way, this experience is notuncommon for many women who havecareers in historically male professions.
Later in my career, a fellow intern statedtheir belief that affirmative action wasfavoring me. Years later, I was told by a peerin private they believed I was selected for an
opportunity because I was the ‘diverse pick’,
implying that my experience and abilities
are either nonexistent or overshadowed by
my outside appearance. Among colleagues
I showed a picture of the groomsmen outfit

I had picked for my wedding and was told
“he looks like he’s from ISIS’’. On a few
occasions I’ve been asked, “What are you?”or “Where are you from?” rather than being
asked about my presentation topics. Many
students have had similar experiences tomine. Young women who are now stepping
into exciting opportunities and roles havealso experienced a man interjecting to ask
if there is perhaps someone more qualified
to fill the role. As isolated incidents, these
may seem like little things, but over time,they accumulate. The combined impactof microaggressions over time is often
described as a death by a thousand cuts
(Nadal et al., 2011). Microaggressions can
exasperate mental and physical healthissues, imposter syndrome, and contributeto a culture of alienation for new andexperienced scientists.
You may have noticed that my personal
examples brought in issues of genderand race. Each one impacts me equally
but differently. Sexism and racism do not
manifest in the same way, experiencing
one does not necessarily translate into
understanding the other. This applies toother aspects such as sexual orientationor gender identity, for example. Many
women in science identify under multiplesocial categorizations. Intersectionality
is defined as the interconnected natureof social categorizations such as race,class, and gender as they apply to agiven individual or group, regarded as
creating overlapping and interdependent
systems of discrimination (McCall 2005).
Intersectionality is why it is important
to consider other factors (such as sexual
orientation, ability, race, economic class,etc.) when discussing gender. These factors
can compound the impacts felt by those
who exist in multiple facets. This is anothergreat reason to highlight the stories ofscientists from a variety of backgrounds, so
we can better support each other.
While microaggressions and blatantdiscrimination have their consequences,the positive experiences working withincredible scientists and teams can also
be impactful! During my undergraduate,
I was selected to live aboard a research
vessel for 40 days assisting with the firstcetacean abundance project in the Red
Sea. I learned how to help with transectline surveys, acoustic monitoring, genetic
sample collection, and monitoring of
tourism impacts upon spinner dolphins at
offshore reefs. Travelling to Egypt alone asa young woman was exhilarating, and an

important milestone, providing me withconfidence. The Red Sea Dolphin Project
was led by three graduate students, allwomen, who I learned so many lessons
from. Their training of research assistantsand volunteers was meticulous andfun, their demeanor was inclusive andrespectful towards the local community,
and their work ethic was unrelenting. This
fieldwork experience is one of several thatprovided me with supportive teachers androle models I continue to benefit from. My
time on the project gave me a glimpse into
the lives of the Egyptian marine biology
student volunteers. We spent long nights
having fascinating conversations about
conservation, tourism, and the Arab Springdemonstrations that they were all involvedin. My experience in Egypt opened my eyes
to some of the challenges and conditions
that students in other countries struggle
with. This research trip was life changing
for me. I then had the great fortune ofinterning with the Passive Acoustics
Research Group with the NOAA-Northeast
Fisheries Science Center located in Woods
Hole, MA. When I entered the research
space, there was an inviting atmosphereled by a brilliant science team composedof women who supported me as I learned
acoustics. This marked the start of my
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11Sabena Siddiqui Cont.

fascination with the topic of humpback
whale acoustics which is now the focusof my graduate research at the Universityof Hawaii with Dr. Adam Pack. Having
opportunities to work alongside otherambitious students, learn from scientists,and observe cetaceans in their habitats,
have supported me through my challenges.
Some readers may wonder if there is
any utility in examining barriers witha microscope at the risk of falling into
victimization. Perhaps it would be more
helpful to think of this as problem solving:
first, the problem must be identified, thenwe can determine what the underlying
mechanisms are. In addition to the biased
structures of our culture at large, andwithin academia, women can become
pitted against each other or become
adversaries to one another. Rather thanfalling victim to the systems that inhibit
us, it’s more beneficial to create systems of
support for each other. In my experience, it
is empowering to be prepared, aware andready with a set of tools.

Looking Forward

Throughout the history of science, major
paradigm shifts in scientific thinking haveoccurred when concepts are approachedwith different perspectives and tools.
Intelligence, ingenuity and curiosity canbe found in people of every background.
We can reach new heights by providing
equal opportunities of advancement topeople of different genders, backgrounds,
and economic classes. Diversity
fuels innovation and the progress ofscience, technology, and ultimately, theadvancement of society.
While stratification is woven through every
fiber of our society, there are actions we
can take as individuals; the situation is
not hopeless! The solution requires both
top down and bottom up approaches.
Senior scientists, supervisors, principal
investigators, and professors are key
holders with influence, and can be excellent
mentors to future generations. Students
and budding scientists have responsibility
in the choices we make as well. There
are many situations where we can either
choose to run the well carved path of
stepping over lab mates and classmates orinstead, we can choose a more symbiotic
approach. Many great scientific discoveries
and breakthroughs were the product ofelaborate teamwork, and not by single
scientists. Our time is marked by great

12

problems that can only be solved by great
teams, working together. In my experience,choosing collaboration over competition has
led to better science and most importantly,
it’s more fun! Why not enjoy the incredible
work we get to do? That is why many ofus chose this path, our passion for asking
questions and seeking answers. It has
benefited many students to seek mentorshipfrom above, foster comradery from thosebeside you, and to help elevate othersby sharing your advice in our collective
mission to protect cetaceans.
The scope of this issue is a piece of what
is possible for science outreach. It is myhope that this publication serves as aspringboard for more content to arise.
Across the world there are many inspiring
stories of perseverance waiting to be heard.
There is always room for improvement,even this publication is lacking
representation from entire continents.
Many cultures in parts of the world still
do not allow women access to education,
careers, civil representation, or basic
rights. Additionally, the lack of researchfunds makes it challenging for projects
to pay interns and volunteers which
they rely on to accomplish their goals.
Pursuing a career in conservation requiresthat students earn experience throughmultiple unpaid internships to succeed,
immediately closing the doors to students
from lower economic backgrounds. I hope
those in a position of influence help toelevate these topics further.
Within the last century, our perceptionof cetaceans has changed greatly. By
examining the many facets of cetaceans
including culture, communication, andcognition, we’ve gone from fearing thesemonsters of the sea to being captivatedby them. The scientists in this issue
have been on the forefront, pushingboundaries of how we perceive theseanimals. These unwavering women have
had the drive and intelligence to explore
new frontiers, because to stop is simply
not an option for them. They are pioneers
whose work helps bring us all closer tounderstanding the ways in which we
can protect and ensure the continued
survival of these species. Of everything
I have learned from my experiences, itis that persistence and passion createboundless possibilities for women in
cetology. The challenges have only become
landmarks of accomplishments, and a

BRE AK ING THE SURFACE WOMEN OF CETOLOGY

Top: Sabena recording data off Maui, Hawaii
during humpback whale fieldwork.
Photo courtesy of Sabena Siddiqui.
Bottom: A humpback whale displaying ahead slap off Maui, Hawaii.
Photo by Adam Pack
under NMFS Permit #14585-01.

reminder of new accomplishments tocome. The future is bright with growing
contributions from scientists of different
backgrounds and origins charting new
territory. I am so excited for what new
discoveries and revelations lay ahead forour understanding of whales, dolphins,
and porpoises.
McCall, L. (2005). The complexity of intersectionality.
Signs: Journal of women in culture and society, 30(3),1771-1800.
Nadal, K. L., Issa, M. A., Leon, J., Meterko, V.,
Wideman, M., & Wong, Y. (2011). Sexual orientation
microaggressions: “Death by a thousand cuts” forlesbian, gay, and bisexual youth. Journal of LGBT Youth,
8(3), 234-259.

Sally during winter fin and humpback whale studies in Kodiak Alaska, February 2007. Photo courtesy of Sally Mizroch.

Finding the path:
Navigating throughtricky waters
Sally MizrochI’ve seen a lot of transitions
since I started my career asa whale biologist for NOAA
Fisheries in January 1979. I
had started working for NOAA
Fisheries in January 1977, asa Fisheries Biologist in the
Resource Ecology and Fisheries
Management division of theNorthwest and Alaska Fisheries
Center. I had been hired on
various short-term contracts to
help my fisheries boss, Lohlee Low, write papers and docomputer graphics for figures
for our papers. Computer
graphics in those days meant I
would sit in my office and send

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Sally Mizroch Cont.

plotting code using an acoustic-coupled
modem (picture an old style telephonehandset shoved into rubber cups) from adumb terminal (like a little typewriter) toa mainframe computer at the Universityof Washington. To see the results, I’dwalk from my office to campus (about a
15-minute walk) to pick up the output.
My first boss was very supportiveand encouraged me to apply to grad
school because he and I both wanted
to strengthen my quantitative skills.
I had graduated from college with astrong liberal arts biology background
but I hadn’t taken very many statistics
classes. I applied to the UW’s School ofFisheries, specifically in their Center for
Quantitative Studies (CQS). The directorof CQS at the time was Doug Chapman, abrilliant scientist (one of the International
Whaling Commission’s Committee ofThree), a brilliant teacher and a warm andwonderful person. Doug agreed to be mymajor professor.
I was one of only two women in myincoming class and usually was the only
woman in my stats classes. I used to jokewith my fellow students (all guys, but allvery supportive) that if I missed class,14

Doug would look around the class and say
something like “Good. She’s not here. Have
you heard the one about…”. But it was justa joke because Doug Chapman was sucha decent guy. I always felt fully supported
while in grad school.
My first marine mammal boss was
Mike Tillman and I met him by lucky
coincidence. In late 1978, my fisheries boss
needed some life history data for a fish
species known as hake. Mike Tillman’s
Master’s Thesis was on hake and I went to
the UW’s Fisheries Oceanography Library
to look up the von Bertalanffy growthparameters in Mike’s thesis. His thesis waschecked out so I called Mike (his office wasa short drive away at the fisheries center’sMarine Mammal Division at Sand Point)
and arranged a visit to his office to get theparameters. While Mike and I were talking,he realized I was a grad student at CQS
and asked if I’d be interested in working
on a study of pregnancy rate data using
historical whaling data. I couldn’t believe
my lucky fortune, because as much as I
felt supported by Low working on fisheries
status of stocks, my first biological loves incollege were the study of large mammals
and endangered species. Jackpot!

BRE AK ING THE SURFACE WOMEN OF CETOLOGY

Some people (male and female alike) found
Mike intimidating. But he and I werealways on the same page about analyses,
plus he was secure enough and smart
enough to be willing to have really frank
discussions about research approaches. I
always felt supported when I worked for
him and he gave me many opportunities(which I seized) to write as many papers as
I could.
Mike encouraged me to submit my first
paper to the International Whaling
Commission’s (IWC) Special Meeting on
Sei and Bryde’s Whales held in April 1979,
just a few months after I started working
for him. Starting in 1980, I was part of
the US delegation to the IWC’s ScientificCommittee. I served as rapporteur for
Mike while he chaired the Southern
Hemisphere Minke Whale sub-committee.
As rapporteur, I would write the first draftof the meeting minutes, every evening,right after we adjourned. The report was
typed and distributed the next day andreviewed by the sub-committee as we
went along. As a rapporteur, I developed
stamina for extremely long meetings andI learned how to listen, to summarize andto write clearly. The issues in the minke

Left: Sally Mizroch and Jan Straley in frontof the Taiji Whale Museum, February 2001.
Right: Denny Zwiefelhofer, Jeff Lewis,
Ygor Geyer, Sally Mizroch and Sophie
Pierszalowki during a humpback whale
tagging cruise in Kodiak, Alaska, July 2008.
Page 14: Sally Mizroch on the Japanese
research vessel Yushin Maru No. 3 during
the 2014 IWC-POWER cruise.
Photos courtesy of Sally Mizroch.

whale sub-committee were as contentious
as could be because minke whales werestill being hunted commercially.
I attended a number of IWC Special
Meetings while Mike was my boss. At
times I was a rapporteur, at times I was acontributing scientist. Some of the older
generation of attendees seemed confused by
my participation. During a coffee break, one
older guy even asked me if I was a secretary.
In general, especially in the early days, I
realized that the best and most confident
scientists, the ones who published a lot,
the ones who wrote deep, comprehensive
and well-researched papers, treated me
like a colleague. The ones who saw me assomeone’s assistant were generally not thebest and the brightest.
My first papers were controversial. Basedon the existing literature, researchers had
thought that whale reproductive rates had
increased in sei and minke whales after thelarger whales became depleted by whaling.
In 1979, I was given access to the huge,newly computerized database of all thewhaling records collected by the Bureau ofInternational Whaling Statistics, which wasby then managed by the IWC. This dataset
had records for over 1 million dead whales.
The data were on huge magnetic tapes
which were mounted for analysis on hugetape drives attached to a huge mainframe
computer. I wrote Fortran programs
to analyze the data. This was exciting,because the volume of data and the easeof analyzing hundreds of thousands ofrecords at once allowed me to do a proper
statistical analysis of the pregnancy datafor blue, fin and sei whales. After carefulanalysis, there was no apparent increase of
pregnancy rates of any of the large whales.

My first paper and a few subsequent ones
attacked the “gospel” of density dependence
in whale reproductive rates. This jolt tothe system was significant in the early to
mid-1980s when the US delegation was
leading the way to initiate the moratoriumon commercial whaling. The population
models that people were using to develop
catch limits always assumed density
dependence in whale reproductive rates,i.e., when you’ve killed off enough blue
whales, fin whales have more food and areable to reproduce at a higher rate. Then,
when you’ve killed off enough fin whales,
sei whales have more food and can increase
their reproductive rate. If there is no
density dependence in whale reproductive
rates, it calls the population models into
question. Whale researchers at the time
had actually assumed that sei whales wereat amazingly high population levels by
the early 1960s because they had assumed
that the population had been increasing
reproduction steadily as the population ofblue and fin whales declined.
I analyzed data dating from 1929-1972,
from the start of modern pelagic whaling
through the depletion of all the large
whale species (blue, fin and sei whales) andthere was no evidence at all of a trend in
pregnancy rates. It turns out that sei whales
were never at high levels and were hunted
to commercial extinction between 1963
and 1968. Sei whale catches were bannedin 1975, mostly because whaling fleets had
trouble finding enough of them to hunt.
In 1982, the IWC voted for a Moratorium on
Commercial Whaling to take effect in 1986.
I remain proud that I was part of the US
delegation that helped put the moratorium
in place.

By the mid-1980s, my career focus began toshift. Because I was proficient in computer
programming, in 1985 I was asked todevelop a computer system for matching
humpback whale tail flukes. In early
1986 I went to Hawaii to meet with each
humpback whale researcher to see how they
managed their data and to learn about theirmatching strategies. In April 1986 we held aworkshop in Seattle to share ideas and test
the prototype matching system I developed.
We began soliciting photos from all the
humpback whale researchers in the North
Pacific at this time. In late 1986 I met withthe researchers at the College of the Atlantic
who managed the North Atlantic humpback
whale catalog who helped refine some of thematching methods.
Believe it or not, in the mid-1980s, mostresearchers were skeptical about photoID. For those of us doing matching, it
was obvious it worked. For everyone
else, it seemed like magic, or maybe evenvoodoo science. We researchers collecting
photos and developing catalogs knew it
was a powerful technique to assess vitalrates and distribution, but the rest of
the research community was skeptical.
Even those of us doing photo-ID sort ofwondered how other researchers working
on other species did it. For example, I’dseen a lot of fin whales at sea over theyears, but I had no idea what cues people
were using to catalog them.
In early 1987 I was invited by Mike Tillman
to an IWC meeting in Iceland. Overdrinks one night, Mike Tillman, anotherresearcher and I decided to organize aworkshop on photo-ID. We wanted toopen up the world of photo-ID to thelarger scientific community, so everyone
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Sally Mizroch Cont.

Top: Dale Rice, Sally Mizroch and Ewan Fordyce,
August 2009
Bottom: David Mattila and Sally Mizroch doing
humpback whale research in Hawaii, February 2003.
Page 17: Sally with a Bryde’s whale mother and calfduring the IWC-POWER cruise, August 2014.
Photos courtesy of Sally Mizroch.

could see matching cues for each species,
and also so we could learn and sharetechniques. In 1988 I organized a large
symposium for the public and we helda follow-up workshop by invitation forphoto-ID researchers. The researchers
attending the workshop were required tosubmit their research paper in advanceof their attendance so we could all see
their methods and results. Because we
had the papers in hand when we held
the workshop, we were able to review
and edit the papers really quickly. We
published our IWC Special Issue on
Individual Recognition of Cetaceans:
Use of Photo-Identification and Other
Techniques to Estimation Population
Parameters. However, in one of the firstblows in my previously charmed career,
I was not allowed by an administrator
in my lab to be the senior author on thespecial issue. I had the support of manyof the contributors and some other seniorscientists who wanted me to be lead author(I organized and chaired the symposium
and I solicited all the papers), but theadministrator who made the decision
would not be swayed. I decided it wasmore important to me to have the special
issue be published in a timely fashion, so I
stepped aside. Then and now, I don’t think
I would have won a protracted battle to try
to change authorship. I’m very proud of
the special issue and it did exactly as I’dhoped. It changed the perception of photoID in the larger scientific community
and also served as a great resource forresearchers everywhere developing new
projects.
At around this time, the administrator
at my lab removed me from the US
delegation to the IWC. I was disappointed
because some of the world’s leading whale
researchers attend the IWC meetings.
Again, no recourse, so I focused onbuilding the North Pacific humpback
whale photo collection.
We planned to hold a series of workshops
to estimate vital rates of North Pacifichumpback whales using matches fromthe computer system. We held our firstworkshops on estimating calf mortality
in North Pacific humpback whales in 1991
and 1996, but there was no funding for any
subsequent workshops. In spite of this,
we published a number of papers using
matches from the database, including myown senior-authored paper estimating

16

BRE AK ING THE SURFACE WOMEN OF CETOLOGY

adult survival of the central North Pacificstock of humpback whales using datafrom 2,400 individual humpback whales
photographed from 1979 and 1996.
In 2003, funding was pulled from myhumpback whale photo-ID project andtransferred to a new project managed byan outside research group. The decision
was made above my pay grade and I had norecourse. Would this have happened to me
if I were a tall white male?
What was next for me? During early
research cruises I’d fallen in love with fin
whales because they are so darn good atbeing whales. Not only are they elegant
and extremely beautiful, but they preyon a wide range of fish and invertebrates,
they are fast swimmers and can travel long
distances. The population of fin whales prewhaling was enormous and they sustained
whaling in so many places for so many
years before the population was depleted.
I knew that existing whaling data was ahistorical treasure trove and recruited mygood friend and colleague Dale Rice andother collaborators to work with me on
a comprehensive paper on North Pacific
fin whales. We analyzed whaling data,sightings data, and Discovery mark recovery
data. Based on our analyses, we suggested
that there were multiple stocks of fin whalesin the North Pacific.
After we finished the paper on fin whales,
Dale and I completed a comprehensive
paper on sperm whales, using similar
datasets. There had been some suggestionof stock structure in North Pacific sperm
whales based on limited genetic samples,but we showed that most sperm whales
ranged widely across the North Pacific asnomadic feeders likely as one stock. We
also showed that female groups ranged
further north historically than mostpeople assumed. We also showed that thefemale population likely remains severely
depleted years after extensive illegal
whaling by the Soviets was halted.
Next, Dale and I began working on acomprehensive paper on North Pacific sei
whales. In 2015 I submitted the paper to the
IWC Scientific Committee meetings andwas happy to be back at the IWC after mylong break. Our paper suggested that there
may have been 5 stocks of sei whales in the
North Pacific, bounded by North Pacificcurrent systems. Some (non-whaling)
researchers found this to be excitingand loved our oceanic approach. Other(pro-whaling) researchers found this to becontroversial. We have been discussing
the sei whale stocks issue at subsequent
IWC meetings and have been gathering
additional data to do modeling exercises totest my hypothesis.
After 39 years working for NOAA Fisheries,
I retired from the government in 2016 so
I could continue to work on the sei whale
paper and other papers independently. I
have always considered myself lucky inspite of the various twists and turns in
my career. I had some good mentors andsupporters at key times along the way,plus I love what I do. Would I have liked tocontinue with the IWC in the late 1980s? Of
course. Would I have wanted to continue
to manage humpback whale photo-ID in

the North Pacific? Of course. Do I regret
having the time to write comprehensive
research papers? Of course not.
Over my career, I have been lucky enoughto be friends with many amazing whale
researchers, most of whom (male and female)have endured hardships in their careers.
What we have in common is a love for our
object of study and a desire to answer the big
questions. Or as Stephen Jay Gould once toldme, “To read the book of nature”.
In our field, as well as every other, there
will be wonderful, supportive colleagues
as well as those who are less evolved. At
times, I’ve had to stand my ground when
faced with pressure to finish a paper
before the data were analyzed thoroughly.
My commitment has always been to theresearch, to try to produce a paper which
contributes something new.
Over the years, I’ve found that I gravitate
to researchers who will spend lots oftime arguing about incorrect analyticaltechniques rather than arguing aboutannoying people. I’ve enjoyed many anintense dinner (usually with wine) withcolleagues trying to figure out how toshift discussions at a meeting to makesure a sound analysis, not a hasty one,is accepted. Sometimes this process cantake years but the battle is worthy. In
the introduction to our special issue on
photo-identification, we highlighted thepioneering work of Roger Payne, Mike Biggand Charles Jurasz. In the early years ofphoto-ID studies, all three of these now
iconic researchers faced extremely intense
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Sally doing humpback whale biopsy research
off the Washington coast, July 2001.
Photo courtesy of Sally Mizroch.

Sally Mizroch Cont.

skepticism. They persisted because theyknew they were on the right track. They
and many other researchers who havepersisted always inspire me.
And speaking of persistence: Almost
everyone, male and female, who tries towork on the leading edge studies will faceskepticism and hardship. However, in oursociety, even well into the 21st century,even more than 40 years after I started
my career, even now when there are somany more women in our field, womenare still much more vulnerable to losing
ground in the face of skepticism. We saw
this vulnerability in our election politics
in 2016. This almost seems a little worse in
2020. When I was in college (1970-1975), we
had a saying (it was even on T-shirts) that“women had to be twice as good to get half
as far”. This seems to be the case even tothis day.
A last note about persistence (which
includes some useful tactics). Jane
Goodall started her PhD in 1965, a few
years before I entered 9th grade taking
an amazing biology class from a brilliant
African-American teacher, Mrs. Ednae L.
Rose. I grew up in the segregated south,
Norfolk Virginia, and my junior high andhigh school were mostly segregated until
my sophomore year in high school. We
maybe had a couple of black kids in thewhole school. The fact that Miss Rose was18teaching in our school seemed normal tous (she was fabulous) but in retrospect, it’samazing we had her.
When I was in junior high and high school,
I didn’t imagine that I’d grow up to be abiologist, even though I loved my biology
and chemistry classes. There just weren’tvery many women biologist role models. I
also loved English, psychology, philosophy
and pictured myself in one of those fields.
Jane Goodall, as we know, also faced
extreme skepticism as she developed herstudies. But nevertheless, she persisted. I
will leave you with the passage below, froma New York Times interview, which is a great
example of her persistent tactics:
Excerpt fromJane Goodall interview:
Jane Goodall Is Self-Isolating, Too
The New York Times By James Gorman
March 25, 2020
Are there achievements of yours thatstand out in terms of their future impact?
I was the eighth person in the historyof Cambridge to come in without anundergraduate degree. And I was reallyscared. You can imagine. And of course
didn’t help when the professors told me
I’d done everything wrong. I shouldn’t
have named the chimps, they shouldhave been numbered. And I couldn’t
talk about personality, mind or emotion

BRE AK ING THE SURFACE WOMEN OF CETOLOGY

because those were unique to us. But
luckily my dog had taught me otherwise
as a child. So I could stand up to them,
not in an aggressive way. I just calmly,
you know, went on talking about it thatway. And I remember the first scientificpaper I wrote was for Nature and it
was about tool using I think. And so I
described the chimpanzees, I gave themnames and they left the names.
But when I got the article back, they
made corrections and they crossed out
everywhere I put he or she. I mean,
one thing is very clear, the difference
between the sexes. But animals were“its.” So I angrily crossed out the “its”
and they left it. So that was the firstbreakthrough. And I think because
the chimps had been found to be sobiologically like us, along with the
behavior shown in Hugo [van Lawick’s]
films and photographs, that reallypushed science into thinking in a lessreductionist way.
We are not separated from the restof the animal kingdom, we’re partof it. Gradually that’s gone more
and more mainstream. So that’s one
thing, helping people understand thatanimals have personalities, minds
and emotions, and now you can study
those things.

Kate on the perch during the 2011 bowhead whale
census, Barrow Alaska. Photo by Dave Rugh.

An Accidental

Acoustician
Kate StaffordT

he first time I went to sea, I was justover a year old, and my parents
and I were returning from living
in Japan (where I was born). Of course, I
don’t remember the voyage but my mothertells me I was one of the few people who
didn’t throw up and who could stay uprightduring a typhoon through which we sailed.
Fortunately, those sea legs have (mostly)
followed me throughout my career.

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19dLeft: Kate Stafford in the arms of her mother
Mary (Murphy) Stafford on her first everocean cruise Tokyo-San Francisco.
Photo by Roy Stafford.
Right: Kate during gray whale field work in
San Ignacio Lagoon, Baja, California, Mexico .
Photo by Bruce Mate.
Page 21: Kate soldiering satellite tag battery
packs. Photo by Barb Lagerquist.

Kate Stafford Cont.

For about the past 20 years, my research
has focused on using passive acoustic
monitoring to study vocal marine mammals
and the environment in which they live. I
am lucky enough to have studied animals
from the Antarctic to the Arctic and many
places in between. At present, I am a SeniorPrincipal Oceanographer at the Applied
Physics Lab and an associate Professor at the
School of Oceanography at the Universityof Washington in Seattle. What these fancy
titles really mean is that I’m a “soft money”
scientist – I have to write (and be awarded)
research grants in order to bring in mysalary and pay any and all research expenses
including funding research assistants andgraduate students. On the one hand, if I canconvince a granting agency to fund me, I can
do whatever I want (science-wise). On theother hand, I have zero job security.
I would say that this way to earn a living is
not for the faint of heart. The main reason
for this is that it involves frequent failure(for example, funding rates at the National
Science Foundation are often less than 30%),
and potentially managing up to 7-8 grants
at any one time. It’s rare that a grantor will
support more than 2 months of salary per
year for Principal Investigators (PIs), andthere is always pressure to reduce budgets(which generally means less salary support
because ship time and instrumentation
costs are fixed). Soft money scientists (likemany NGO scientists) have no safety net no tenure, no assured salary, no guarantee
for the future. I am lucky in that to date I
have no debt, mortgage or childcare-related
expenses. My week-to-week life these days
involves an ever-varying diet of writing
proposals, programming and shipping
instruments, field work (in some years I amin the field for at most 2 months, but in other20

years this can swell to six months), analyzing
data, writing papers, going to meetings,
advising students and outreach. I constantly
feel as if I am juggling many things at once;
more often than not, I worry that I am
dropping balls. Along the way, I have been
helped by mentors and senior scientists
adding me to their proposals when I was a
new PI, by mooring technicians providing
advice about mooring designs, and I havealways worked with collaborators who bringdifferent, complementary, skills to a project.
Collaborating with friends and colleagues,
on projects and papers is one of the mostsatisfying parts of my job.
But how did I get here? I am a militarybrat which means that my family moved
around a lot when I was younger, including
assignments in Japan and Belgium, as well
as around the US. While in Belgium we
lived in a 400-year-old drafty mill near alake and regularly had ducks wander inthe house, the odd swan tapping on thewindows to be fed, and hedgehogs snuffling
about at the end of the street. My sister andI roamed freely on our bicycles and would
try to catch bats at night by the lake withtennis rackets (in retrospect, not the bestidea, but fortunately the bats’ sonar meantthat we were never successful). I suppose
nowadays this would be called a ‘freerange’ childhood; looking back, having
the freedom to explore the world aroundme with the added diet of Ranger Rickmagazine, Cousteau documentaries, Wild
Kingdom on Sunday night TV, and Girl
Scouting put me on the path I’m on today.
But that path has been fairly circuitous.
As an undergraduate at the University ofCalifornia at Santa Cruz (UCSC) I doublemajored in Biology and French Literature

BRE AK ING THE SURFACE WOMEN OF CETOLOGY

because I couldn’t decide on whether I
wanted to be a veterinarian or a journalist.
A year abroad spent in France seemed tobe moving me towards the latter but thatchanged with a course I took on Animal
Behavior back at UCSC. In addition toclassroom lectures, it involved going to thenorthern elephant seal colony at Año Nuevo
state park and learning how to collect datain the field on wild animals. It had neveroccurred to me that studying animals
in the wild could actually be a job. Afterthat course, I volunteered for a number ofgraduate students who studied elephantseals. Somedays, I would come back from
Año with sand in just about every crevice of
my body but I couldn’t have been happier ormore eager to get out there the next day andhelp where I could. What I saw every day
from my viewpoint as a wide-eyed undergrad
was female grad students directing theirresearch, driving small boats in choppy
waters, and working hands-on with large
mammals. There was no “men’s work” or“women’s work”, it was just work. As a female
undergraduate intern, I never felt like I wasn’t
treated exactly the same as the male interns.
I wonder now though, how those kick-ass
women viewed their experiences as female
graduate students in labs that were led byonly male advisors.
I suppose the normal path would have been
to apply to graduate school during my lastyear in undergrad but instead, I applied fora Fulbright to go back to France for a year. I
lived in a garret in Paris and taught English
to French high schoolers while working as an
au pair (neither of which, it turns out, were
my cup of tea). In Paris, I studied Medieval
French literature but also audited courses
at the Oceanographic Institute of Paris. It
was there that I got to see Cousteau speak indirection my research went in and leadmy own projects. Because I was interested
in how the environment influences theoccurrence of animals, and I’d had to thinka lot about how this environment influencessound transmission, I switched to the
Oceanography department at OSU with
Chris as my adviser.

person to a packed house which re-inspired
my desire to study science. So, after a yearof being young and poor and living in Paris(apologies to Hemingway) and hitchhiking
through southern Europe and Turkey, I
returned to Santa Cruz to work for a year
while applying to graduate school. I still callthat period my “year of slacking” because I
worked for the State Parks and temporary
agencies, and rode my bike, swam in theocean, played tennis with friends and shareda tiny house with my sister Jane while
researching and applying to graduate schools.
I was fortunate to get into the Departmentof Fisheries and Wildlife at Oregon State
University (OSU) with Dr. Bruce Mate, where
I hoped to study how deep sperm whales dive(this was largely inspired by Moby Dick andtales of sperm whales found caught on deepsea cables 2000m below the ocean surface).
Fortunately, Bruce had a research project
to do just that – put satellite tags with somedive depth information on sperm whales in
the Gulf of Mexico. If only it had been that
simple. While these days, the OSU tagging
group has had many successes on a range of
species (including sperm whales), during mymaster’s work, this proved to be a pretty big
challenge. Either we could find whales andnot get close enough to them, or we couldn’t
find whales, or the tags that we managed toget on whales didn’t transmit for very long…
So after numerous field seasons in both the
Gulf of Mexico and the Galapagos, and thenoff central California for blue whale tagging,
I had no data. None. I was in full-on graduate
student panic mode thinking that I would
never finish my master’s. Luckily, just down
the hall was a group studying the soundsof underwater earthquakes and volcanoes
and their data was full of “whale noise.”
The man who became my PhD advisor, Dr.

Chris Fox, offered to let me use those data
for a master’s degree. To be fair, Bruce had
initially suggested this as a project for me
when I first arrived at OSU. But, heady withdreams of Cousteau and field work, I longed
to be an ocean-going researcher (not that
I had any real idea what that meant at thatpoint) and so I jumped at the sperm whale
project. By moving to an acoustics-based
master’s project, I ended up where I would
have started, just several years later. Still, I
wouldn’t exchange the experiences I had in
the field or the friendships I forged becauseof them, even if it meant a more direct route
through graduate school.
And so, quite by accident, I started to study
blue whale acoustics using the US Navy’s
underwater arrays that listened to lowfrequency sounds in the North Pacific. I
was fortunate in that this was a time during
which a “dual use” program was in place that
aimed to use some Navy assets for civilian
purposes like monitoring seismicity, tracking
illegal fishing, and studying the sounds oflarge whales. I had to wrap my brain aroundan entirely new field of study (and spend mydays in front of a computer instead of in thefield), but it was as if a whole underwater
world had opened. My only prior exposure
to acoustics in marine mammal studies
was using hydrophones to help find sperm
whales. Year-long low-frequency acoustic
data were something else altogether. But
I was eager to learn (and finally finish mymaster’s degree). Which I did – four years
after starting graduate school. By then I was
broke, and needed a break from school as I
wasn’t sure what I wanted to do. I ended up
working for Chris on the same acoustic data
stream and a couple of years later decided
I was ready to get a PhD. I chose this pathbecause I wanted to be able to decide what

During this period, I was fortunate to meet
two people in particular who were also
working with the Navy arrays. The first was
the late Dr. Bill Watkins. It was incredible tomeet the man whose papers I had devoured
and discover that he was generous withhis knowledge, and time, and stories of his
remarkable life. This generosity of spirit fromsomeone I considered to be a giant in thefield left a lasting impression on me. I would
say that, with some exceptions, this has
been my overall experience in the marine
mammal field. The second person was Dr.
Sue Moore. She was the first ‘established’
female scientist that I ever met and worked
with. Sue is confident, competent, smart, anda big picture thinker and I do not think that it
is an exaggeration to say that I owe many of
my post-PhD opportunities (if not my entire
career) to Sue. I ended up doing a post-doc
with her at the National Marine Mammal
Lab in Seattle (now the Marine MammalLab) and continued to work on blue whale
acoustics. Through connections Sue had, or
facilitated, I ended up working not just in thenortheast Pacific but in Brazil, the Maldives,
the Antarctic and finally, the Arctic. And
the French Literature degree? Turns out it
was pretty useful in my current profession.
Because I speak French, I have been asked
to be on French dissertation committees andestablished long-standing collaborations
with colleagues in France. And every now
and then, they invite me to visit!
Looking back on my time as a master’s andthen PhD student, what strikes me is, as I had
witnessed at UCSC, there was no questionthat whatever needed to be done in the lab
or in the field could be done equally wellby male or female students. Whether it wasbuilding and testing tags, soldering battery
packs, or driving boats, Bruce Mate showed
no gender bias towards his students, andhe was always professional and respectfulin the field. For that, I will be forevergrateful to him. Chris Fox and his engineer
Haru Matsumoto trusted me to program
instruments and re-battery acoustic releases.
This early experience meant that later in
my career when I was first working withmooring instrumentation, including archival

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Bowhead whale.
Photo by Kate Stafford.

Kate Stafford Cont.

hydrophone packages and acoustic releases,
it never occurred to me that I shouldn’t be theone to check (and double check) the o-rings,
program and battery instruments and tocome up with different ways of getting things
done at sea. I was allowed to learn (andmake mistakes!) on the job. This assumptionof competence (with the right training ofcourse) is how I approach students in mylab and in the field. As a woman in science,
I strive to mentor other women. I do thisby bringing them into the field with me(both on research vessels and on the ice),by training them to program and refurbish
oceanographic instrumentation, and byproviding them networking opportunities
with other labs, other scientists, students, andPIs. I also make a point of checking in withother students I have met via email, offering
to read paper drafts and watch practice talks.
I am fortunate to have benefitted from strong
female role models but also male allies who
gave me the exact same opportunities mymale colleagues were provided. I feel a deep
obligation to pay this forward.
Generally, I think I was spared a lot of theblatant sexism that still exists in sciences,
and always exists when there are lots ofsmart young women interested in enteringa field largely led by men. I am hopefulthat things are improving as there are now
many labs all over the world led by amazing
women (some of whom have contributed tothis issue of Whalewatcher). Hopefully thesedays, it’s understood to be inappropriate
when a male (or female) program manager
sunbathes in a tiny too-tight swimsuit infront of students on watch on a ship’s bridge.
Hopefully a University-owned and run
research vessel no longer tolerates girlie
posters and postcards mounted in thegalley and common areas. Maybe that crew

22

member who wore a remarkable number of
misogynistic t-shirts (the least offensive of
which was “10 reasons a beer is better than awoman”) has to cover those up (or better yet,understands why they are not appropriate).
Maybe senior researchers won’t casually say
to female students that they wouldn’t hire
female assistants because they get pregnant
and then they can’t do field work, or that
before women were allowed in the Antarctic
it was the most peaceful place on Earth.
Perhaps the captain of a ship doesn’t make apoint of telling the women on board that hehas assigned them all to the same lifeboat
so the “girls don’t have to think in case of
emergency.” I’d like to think these examples
from my life are a thing of the past (or lesscommon) and that we have made progress
towards women feeling safe and respected in
the field.
Where I know we haven’t made muchprogress is in diversity in the marine
mammal field. I have been actively trying
to be more visible as a woman scientist
via public engagement and I have also
been thinking a lot about white privilege
and economic privilege. How have these
influenced who we see as leaders, teachersand scientists? How do we provide equitableeducational and research opportunities tostudents who face social, cultural, racial,and economic barriers? I don’t pretend
to have the answers to this, I need tolisten more and learn more. I do knowthat when I look at the makeup of the
population of marine mammal scientists
and oceanographers I see at universities andnational and international meetings, I want
to see more diversity, and I want to be a partof helping to make that happen.
My path to where I am today has been
anything but direct, and is largely the result

BRE AK ING THE SURFACE WOMEN OF CETOLOGY

of things going not quite (or at all) as planned.
But because I’ve had the ability (and theprivilege) to adapt, or perhaps because I am
tenacious, things have more-or-less worked
out. If I had any advice for new students orscientists, based on my experiences, it would
be to take your science seriously, but don’ttake yourself too seriously. Be able to laughat, and learn from, your mistakes (and forgive
those of others). Find time for art, be it musicor literature or art exhibits. Vote. Get out
in nature as often as possible as a reminderof the incredible planet that sustains us
and why so many of us do what we do. And
finally, something I am still working on, isto be willing to keep learning and be open
to changing your mind: about people, about
scientific ideas, about methods, and about
what a “marine mammal scientist” looks like.
I have the impression that I just started mycareer a couple of years ago. But looking backhas reminded me that I have had more thanmy share of amazing experiences, seen somany places on the globe that most people
will never see, and met many incredible
people over the last two decades or so. And
more and more, I want what I do to haveconservation implications because I can’t
remain dispassionate in the face of thechanging climate. My work in the Arctic iscertainly driving that home. When I firstwent north I was excited to study the soundsof the Arctic, especially bowhead whales. I
did not expect to be using acoustics to listen
to climate change in the Arctic. More andmore to me, conservation and education iswhat matters. Not publications or grants or
accolades, but applying what we learn as
scientists who study the natural world to help
conserve that same world, not just for our
species, but for all the species with whom weshare Earth.

the oddity

Pacific white-sided dolphin, Mexico.
Photo by Mridula Srinivasan.
Property of NOAA. NMFS Permit 19091

EffectMridula SrinivasanM

y identity as a marine mammal
scientist is defined by mypassion and core interest incetacean behavioral ecology. With time, I
realize that I am also defined by my social
identity, i.e., a woman of color and an
immigrant— it is this perspective I would
like to share.

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Mridula Srinivasan Cont.

Early in my career, I did not consider mygender, race, or nationality as being ahindrance or deterrent to achieving mycareer ambitions. Born and raised in India
and briefly, in Africa, my love for animals
and scientific curiosity blossomed in a
multicultural and STEM-heavy academic
environment. As a child, animals fascinatedme and enveloped in wild and beautiful
Nigeria my interests grew. When notwandering outdoors, I was fixated onwatching animal movies and Attenborough,Jacques Cousteau, and other nature
documentaries. One documentary on
humpback whale song piqued my interest
more than anything else — and just like that,a simple childlike curiosity about a singing
whale changed into a full-fledged desire tolearn more about marine mammals and theoceans. By the time I was in middle school,
I knew I wanted to be a marine biologist
and ultimately, study marine mammals.
I had no idea what I would specialize inor what question I would ask – all I knew
was I wanted to study animal behavior in
their natural habitats. Later in high school
and college, the works of Darwin, Huxley,
Tinbergen, E.O. Wilson, and Lorenz
inspired me to sharpen my knowledge of thetheoretical concepts of ethology.
24

Compared to my peers in India, I hada somewhat privileged and carefree
upbringing allowing me to explore theoutdoors, travel the world, experience
different cultures and school environments,
and develop a natural affinity and empathy
for different people and animals. While
Math and Science were the focus in school
and college, there was little thought given
to stimulating independent thinking andquestioning, and non-traditional career
streams. Thankfully, my parents neverdampened my enthusiasm for science.
During the crucial years, my mother andbrother encouraged independent learningand helped me develop critical thinking,problem-solving skills, and a voracious
reading habit of fiction and non-fiction that
continues to this day.
My extended family provided other sourcesof inspiration. I was surrounded by strong,spirited, and progressive family members.
The superwomen in my family taught
me everything I know. Even today, I am
guided in life by the wisdom of my maternal
great-grandmother, grandmother, mother,and aunts. They taught me to dream,
never stop learning, to accept wins andlosses equally, embrace positivity, and tolook ahead. However, despite my strongest

BRE AK ING THE SURFACE WOMEN OF CETOLOGY

desires, my family could not send me to do
foreign internships or even seek wildlife
experiences within India. There were nocolleges or universities in India that offeredmarine biology degrees, let alone marine
mammal science. Most of the places I
grew up in were land-locked and studying
marine animals was a distant thought.
Still, undeterred by peer-pressure, I set mysights on a college degree in Zoology. I knew
eventually that to study and make a careerin marine biology and marine mammal
science, I had to travel to the United States
for advanced degrees and training. In theend, despite debilitating personal struggles
and embittered academic environments, I
learned to persevere to become a marine
mammal scientist. Undoubtedly, the earlygrounding and training I received from myfamily prepared me for life in the UnitedStates and beyond.
When I first arrived in the United States
as a graduate student wanting to build
my marine science credentials (of which
I had none), I realized that “who I was”
was more important than “what I did or
was capable of.” I grew up with the belief
that the United States was a meritocracy.
But when you are “different” from therest, it is not smooth-sailing. During myHumpback whale. Kaikoura, NZ. Taken under NZ permit.
Photo by Mridula Srinivasan.
Page 24: Left: Fin whale, California Current.
Photo by Mridula Srinivasan. Property of NOAA.
NMFS Permit 14097-04.
Top: Mridula trying on a survival suit on a NOAA cruise.
Photo by Suzanne Yin.
Bottom: Mridula at home in Bauchi, Nigeria.
Photo courtesy of Mridula Srinivasan.

master’s program in the United States,
I experienced lost opportunities andindifference whether related to grading,financial awards, conducting projects,
or just being accepted in social circles.
With only four female students of color in
the entire department of nearly 100 plus
undergraduate and graduate students, wewere aware of the differential treatment.
I thought we were just not good enoughcompared to the other marine science
students – which was true because I lacked
many skills that my peers had. But we got
no encouragement or support to excel.
I had to outcompete my peers who hadaccess, opportunity, and early exposure to
the marine sciences.
My initial foray into the marine
mammal field was largely due to timely
interventions by mentors in the field,
like Dr. R.H. Defran, who helped me
select suitable graduate schools andinternships to fill gaps in my skill set.
My mentors were gracious, earnest,
and supportive of my career path.
Occasionally, during doctoral studies,work experiences, and in-field settings,
I was irked about being an outsider andfeeling isolated. Looking back now, thoseacademic years were tough, but it was
tougher in the professional workspace. I
recognized that any behavior I perceived
as offensive might be considered perfectly
acceptable in the workplace and often,
unconsciously performed. Entrenchedbias or homogenous workplace cultures
can be hard to change since most in themarine science workforce have limited to
no interaction with cultures other thantheir own. These problems are not limited
to the United States or countries dominant
in marine science. Regressive attitudes
and marginalization of less privileged

communities pervade other nations wheremarine science professions do not exist.
Still, it is not all doom and gloom. At theend of the day, at the core, I am defined by
my work ethic and performance. Doing mydaily job and working for marine mammals
and in marine conservation, gives me themotivation to overcome the vicissitudes ofthe profession. Besides, there are more kindand understanding people than negative
ones. And meritocracy remains dominant in
the United States workplace despite failings.
For every lost opportunity, there are manyother doors that open, and it is important tograsp even the slightest chance.
Consciously, in life, I seek and surroundmyself with positive, inspiring people.
My mentors and life coaches have ranged
from a neurologist, foreign service officer,
civic administrator, a businessman, to theformer Under Secretary of Commerce for
Oceans and Atmosphere, Dr. Bill Evans
and former NOAA Research Assistant
Administrator, Dr. Rick Spinrad, who in
my opinion, was one of the finest leaders I
have ever encountered in recent times. I was
also privileged to have a brilliant and topnotch Ph.D. advisor (Dr. Bernd Würsig) andcommittee (Drs. Bill Grant, Jane Packard,
and Ben Wu) — they continue to beesteemed colleagues that I respect, admire,and rely on whenever I need advice. Early in
my professional career, I met other marine
scientists like Drs. Lisa Ballance, Rebecca
Lent, and Sarah Mesnick, who helped menavigate the trenches of building a career inmarine mammal science at NOAA.
I continue to work on strengthening these
relationships and do not take their support
for granted. I was instantly drawn to themfor their kindness, willingness to impartwisdom, and knowledge without looking
for a benefit in return. I never had any

formal mentor-mentee relationship orany declaration of mentorship with anyof the people listed above. I got advice
from people I admired and could learn
from and when I needed it. I have had
few mentors in my career, but they haverescued me from despair at life’s various
turning points. Further, with every research
activity, fieldwork, or project collaboration,
I encounter extraordinary students andmarine mammal researchers globally that
help me rediscover the joy of studying
marine mammals and motivate me to be abetter human being and scientist. That said,
my husband and family, remain my pillarsof strength and perpetual life consultants.
The journey to my present professional
appointment has been long and arduous
but worthwhile. I continue to covet new
challenges that expand my learning andskillsets – novel life experiences keep me
going even with professional setbacks
or career inertia. These days, however, I
spend a lot of time thinking about the next
generation of underrepresented studentsof color and the barriers they face tosucceed in marine mammal science. WhenI attended my first Biennial Conference on
the Biology of Marine Mammals in 2003
in North Carolina, I was surprised by thelack of diversity among the attendees andskewed representation of male professors
and presenters despite the majority female
student membership. Nearly two decades
later, things have changed (slightly) but the
progress is inadequate in nearly all marine
science and marine mammal conferences
I have attended. I am still struck by thelack of people like me. Truthfully, it ishard to maintain longevity in the field.
Achieving a leadership position as a woman
scientist is hard, being a woman of color
just compounds the struggle and scientificstudies support that assertion.
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Left: Mridula Srinivasan scanning in
Admiralty Bay, NZ.
Right: Short-beaked common dolphin,
California Current.
Property of NOAA. NMFS Permit#14097-04
Photos courtesy of Mridula Srinivasan.

Mridula Srinivasan Cont.

The question then must be asked— Can
a woman of color succeed in the marine
mammal field? The answer is a resounding
YES. The reason is that we are not alone
in our struggles. There are other womenof color globally who have sacrificed andsucceeded in shattering many obstacles inmarine mammal science and STEM fields.
The next crop of scientists can stand on theirshoulders to look farther ahead and attainnew heights. A word of caution to futurescientists — follow the collaborative researchspirit and do not shun genuine support fromall quarters of the scientific community.
Do your best to associate with other
underrepresented groups globally and build
each other up. I have benefitted from seeking
comfort and advice from other minority
or immigrant friends within and outside
work due to a common understanding andshared experiences. For my part, I believethat I have a responsibility to encourage andempower women and men of color to enterand succeed in marine mammal science.
The marine mammal field will be enrichedwith these new entrants as have Silicon
Valley, Health, Legal, Space, Finance, Auto,
Aviation, and other industries.
One thing is clear to me, if you are skilled,hardworking, and committed, you will
be rewarded regardless of who you are.
Yes, you may not be the first, second, oreven third choice. You may be sidelined
among other competitors. But you must
work to be the best and not feel perpetually
victimized. At the same time, I believe, themarine mammal community needs to do
more to eliminate the marginalization ofcertain communities.

26

We – the marine mammal community– should educate ourselves and embracedifferent individuals, not just the popular
ones who conform to norms and deeprooted views. We need to do better to attract
students of color early in their school lives.
Students and researchers of color can
provide a refreshing perspective on researchor conservation practice, bring novel skill sets
and thinking to solve complex research andconservation problems even those withoutestablished marine science credentials.

Parting words for aspiring
scientists of color…
·B e inspired to pursue your marine mammal
scientific dreams. Seek inspiration frompeople you admire, species you care for, orconservation problems that affect you.
· Seek mentors who care for you and areprepared to invest in you. If they share asimilar personal journey, culture, or race,even better.
· Identify multiple mentors, each withdifferent strengths who can instruct
and guide you on the proper path andproblem-solve when the time comes.
· Work hard, dedicate yourself to the task,
no matter how small. If you are given
an opportunity, give it your 200%. A
good first impression can do more foryour professional journey than a dozeninternships. But don’t worry if you havea few bad experiences in the beginning–
Learn from your mistakes.
· Be collaborative in life and research. Lose
your egos and work equally with experts
and novices in the field – We are working
towards a common goal.

BRE AK ING THE SURFACE WOMEN OF CETOLOGY· Be prepared to be slighted or offended byignorant and negative people. Do not get
demoralized, be motivated to be better
than them.
· Share resources and experiences withother minorities and underrepresented
communities, collaborate professionally,build networks, and support each other’s
careers.
· Do not accept injustice and inequality
so easily in the academic or work
environment. If you can, document anduse all proper channels to address theissue. Build professional linkages to help
garner support. You are not alone.
· Let your professionalism do the talking anddo not always suspect malicious intent in
the professional or academic workspace.
· Be humble—They are many bright,
talented, knowledgeable folks out there –learn from them and never stop learning.
· Persevere—It is a marathon. As aminority, you will face more roadblocks,
challenges, and setbacks than your peers,
but do not give up. Your success will betwice as satisfying.
· Smile often—Your moment will come toshine with the right attitude, competitive
skill set, and a strong peer network.
The views, thoughts, and opinions
expressed in the text belong solely to theauthor, and not necessarily to the author’s
employer, organization, committee, orother group or individual.

Sea Change:

Reflections on a
Career as a Female
Marine Mammal Scientist
Lisa T. Ballance“Remember, you are here as ascientist, not a domestic helper.”This was the advice whispered tome just after dinner by my master’s adviser.
The year was 1984. I was a graduate student,
just beginning to learn what field science
was. We were at the home of a person who
was to me a “famous” marine mammal
scientist. Aside from his wife, I was the only

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Left: Lisa’s early introduction tobottlenose dolphins off Mexicoin the late 1960’s.
Right: Olive ridley sea turtle in theeastern tropical Pacific with
Carl Safina and Robert Pitman.
Page 27: Lisa with a type C killer
whale in McMurdo Sound, Antarctica.
Photos courtesy of Lisa Ballance.

Lisa Ballance Cont.

female. My upbringing had taught me that
it was common courtesy to help clear thetable after dining at the home of a host. As I
instinctively prepared to do that, my adviser
held me back. There were two powerfullessons in this simple sentence. Womenand men are taught to behave differently
by society; and society in response, treats
them differently. And advocates can be maleor female (my adviser was male), as can beadversaries (more on this later).
Fast forward to 2019. It would have been myfather’s hundredth year. I am a member of
an international scientific team in the ocean
south of Cape Horn that obtains the firstbiopsy sample from a live “Type D” killer
whale, an almost completely unknown
ecotype, perhaps the least known large
mammal on the planet, that could turn out tobe a new species. After 31 years with NOAA
and what I could characterize as a love affair
with our agency’s mission and my colleagues,
I accept a new position in academia, bringing
personal and professional upheaval andrebirth to my life. I and my family suffer animmense loss with the death of my mom’s
partner, a second father to me. I turn 60.
Today, I am Director of Oregon State
University’s Marine Mammal Institute,
Endowed Chair of Marine Mammal
Research, and Full Professor in the
Department of Fisheries, Wildlife, andConservation. I have 31 years of experience
with NOAA (National Oceanic andAtmospheric Administration), conducting
research on cetaceans and seabirds aroundthe world, including the tropical Pacific andIndian Oceans, Antarctic waters and thegreater Southern Ocean, the Bering Sea,
Maldives, Clipperton Atoll, and Cambodia’s
Mekong River. Among my two mostsignificant positions with NOAA: Directorof the Southwest Fisheries Science Center’sMarine Mammal and Turtle Research
Division for over a decade, providing

28

scientific leadership and oversight of some
70 scientists with a $9M annual budget; andChief Scientist of NOAA’s Eastern Tropical
Pacific Dolphin and Ecosystem Assessment
Surveys which have provided the scientificbasis for the “Dolphin Safe” label foundon tuna cans in supermarkets all over thiscountry. I hold a Ph.D. in marine ecology, an
M.S. in marine science, and a B.S. in biology,
have published over 100 peer-reviewed
papers, working papers, and technicalreports, been invited to speak at dozens ofscientific conferences, universities, public
lectures, and congressional briefings, andbeen awarded research funding from a wide
variety of sources including National Science
Foundation, U.S. Navy, and Bureau of Ocean
Energy Management. In my role as professor,
I teach and advise graduate students andpost-doctorates, and serve on a variety ofacademic steering committees and working
groups. I am recipient of the Department ofCommerce Bronze and Silver Medals, NOAA
Fisheries’ Supervisor of the Year, and havebeen featured on the cover of the Association
for Women in Science.
It is an honor to be invited to contribute tothis issue. And it is a surprise. Of course, I
know of (and have met a few) people withwhat seem like other-worldly talents. I
speak of the “big names” in our field, peopleof great ideas, high productivity, striking
innovations, riveting presentations, and easy
charisma. Some truly are other-worldly. I
am not one of these people. Yet, as I age, I
believe more and more that most of us havethe potential to achieve greatly, to makeimportant contributions to our field. Our
greatest skill is our passion and the desire
to throw all that we have at our highest
priorities and aspirations. And in this way,
we all have much in common. What is notcommon among us, what we do not share isequality of good fortune, and here I speakof two things. First the breadth and depth of

BRE AK ING THE SURFACE WOMEN OF CETOLOGY

positive influences in our lives in the form ofpeople who can, and will, support, nurture,and facilitate our growth, as a person and as
a professional. And second, the good luck to
be born in the right place, at the right time, in
the right society. Let me explain.
I have been fortunate to have beensurrounded by people who, throughthe course of my career, have positively
influenced, facilitated, and supported me
professionally (and personally). A giant in
the field of cetacean biology who, during my
doctoral research, schooled me in the basics
and fine points of the physical and biologicalecosystem in which we were working, sharedinsights and data and offered collaborations
and the opportunity to take the lead. A seniorleader in my agency who, even as this person
was promoted up the ladder and continued
to excel, repeatedly appeared throughout
my career, magically it seemed at the mostcritical junctures of my professional path,with opportunities and advice for my own
advancement. Another high-level leader who,
just after I had begun a new position, reached
out to me with an offer of an informal lunch,
an open door for the future, and a clear
message directed to me: “We leaders here (Iwas clearly being included in this descriptor),
we have each other’s backs.” My husband
and closest colleague: comfortable with aprofessionally ambitious female, willing toshare his own remarkable insights with me,
to let me take them and run. I owe a hugedebt to him for my professional success. And
my parents, who taught me from the very
beginning that I could do *anything*, and (Iknow now, that literally through their blood,
sweat, and tears) made that possible.
I have, to be sure, had challenges associatedwith being a female in our society and ina male-dominated profession. 1974: myhigh school girlfriend and I are trapped forthree hours, twice a week, for three weeks
with our Driver’s Ed instructor who, whilewe drive, talks about and asks questions
focused on sexual topics. We don’t knowwhat to do, so we do nothing. 1980: I ask fora letter of recommendation for graduate
school from a professor. His wife (also a
professor) meets with me to say “No, youneed to learn how to use your mind, don’t
wear your clothes so tight.” 1982: I am ona summer internship in the field. Much of
my evening work is conducted in the seniorscientists’ room, during which he repeatedly
massages my neck, shoulders, arms. I need aletter from him for some evidence of successin this internship for my graduate school
application, so I just sit there, with fear anddiscomfort, and take it. 1988: I have justbegun my doctorate. An authority figure twolevels above me gives me an expensive pieceof jewelry. What does this mean? I barely
know this person. 2018: We are five peers in
the larger work unit – each of us oversees
2-3 levels below us. The position above
us is vacated and an “acting” is needed totemporarily fill it. Although I am the seniorof the five (in this role longer than any of theothers), and the only woman, three of thefour males are cycled through the acting role.
I am never asked to act in this role. For me,these were examples where my professional
capabilities were discounted because I am afemale, or where males used their positionsof authority in inappropriate ways. A few ofthese experiences left deep scars; all mademe stronger. And I want to make it explicitly

clear, that I encountered strong allies in bothmales and females, and endured destructive
blows from both. In the examples above,
4 of the 6 allies were males, and 2 of the 5
adversaries were females.

Left: Lisa with husband Robert Pitman at
Clipperton Atoll in the eastern tropical Pacific.
Right: Lisa photographing while Robert Pitman
attempts to place a satellite tag on a type B2killer whale in the Weddell Sea, Antarctica.
Photos courtesy of Lisa Ballance.

Fortune. I was born into a wealthy
country, where education tends to be agiven. I am of the race that our society
tends to promote. And although I am
female, I am a professional at a time when
women are increasingly successful atfighting for professional equality. Doors
were open for me that have historically
been closed to women.
Common wisdom is that hindsight is 20/20.
So, what is my advice to you, reader of thispiece? 1) Follow your passion, even when
it leads you on paths that point against all
odds. If you have the fortune to do so, you are
not likely to look back and regret that timespent. 2) Seek out mentors. And be awarethat great names are not necessarily great
mentors. 3) Understand that life is inherently
unfair. Society is composed of parts that are
not equal. You will almost certainly be theundeserving recipient of blows associatedwith these truths. Take each as they come;assess and move on when you can allow
yourself to do so. When you cannot, take on
the unfairness. But do so in a constructive
way. Don’t fall prey to victimization, anger,
and resentment. They can be deeply
destructive. 4) Encourage those around you

to change preconceived notions about who
can be successful. Lead by example. 5) Think
critically. Question authority. Be true to yourprinciples. And, sadly, be aware that thesepractices can make you vulnerable, and thefallout can be severe. 6) Finally, and here I
return to something I have already written,
remember that although we may have vastlydifferent backgrounds and opportunities, we
all have the same right to succeed, and we all
have deep-seated passion that brings power.
Have confidence in yourself. Instead oflooking on from the sidelines in awe at thosecurrently considered to be the leaders in ourfield, get out on the dance floor and be part of
the action. The world needs you.
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B

From bats,to seals,dolphins
and whales

A global trek tomake a difference

Sofie Van Parijs

ats in the
UK Country SideI never imagined when I started my careerthat 25 years later young women would tellme that they looked to me as an exampleof how to be a successful marine mammal
scientist, actively working in the field of
bioacoustics, with a husband, 2 children anda balanced work/life style. It never occurred
to me at the time that I might need to makea choice between having a family andhaving a career, in particular a career that I
was passionate about. This was not because
these issues were not part of my generation,
it was simply that I never looked that far
ahead. I was passionate about bats andcommunication and this is what I wanted
to study and work on. As an undergraduate
at Cambridge University in the UK, I set
out to find a field project on bats during mysummer vacation. In doing so I wrote somany ‘can I please work on bats?’ letters that
I lost count of the number. As is always thecase though and is important to remember,you really only need one person to reply to
set you on your way. I was thankful that a
Professor at Bristol University, Gareth Jones,
wrote back to offer me unpaid work on his
research project recording pipistrelle batsaround southwest UK. Luck did come myway in that he put me to work collecting
data on pipistrelle colonies in different areas
which led to the discovery that they were
two rather than one species based on theirdifference in echolocation. Luckier still, he
wrote a paper and put me on as a co-author.
This opened up my next path for me in a
way that I could never have imagined. I was
not scientifically brilliant, my grades weredecent but I had no capacity to sell myself or
my science, I was painfully shy and insecurebut keen and persistent. Gareth’s kindness
in including me on this research paper issomething I never forgot. It gave me the leg
up that I needed and it made me very awareof the value of helping others advance intheir careers.

Scottish Seals
in the Highlands

When I began my search for a PhD project, I
looked at the US but was terrified of having
to take GRE’s so kept a firm eye on the UK.
Again I wrote to everyone I could think ofasking for opportunities to work on bats.
A bat expert, Professor Racy at Aberdeen
University wrote back, telling me he didn’t
have any projects but that a colleague ofhis, Professor Paul Thompson, who worked

30

BRE AK ING THE SURFACE WOMEN OF CETOLOGYSofie with bioacoustics equipment. Photo courtesy of Sofie Van Parijs.

on marine mammals did. I was rather
disappointed, who wants to work on marine
mammals after all when you can work on
bats? However, the project sounded fun,we were going to find out if male harbor
seals made underwater mating calls, since
no one really knew for sure. Thankfully
for me, they did, even though the calls they
make sound like a toilet being flushed so
are not very glamorous to listen to. This
is where my journey started into marine
mammal science, not by desire, but byopportunity. The Lighthouse Field Stationin northeastern Scotland was a wonderfulplace to spend time throughout my PhD. In
the winters we were a small group crowded
in a damp, leaky lighthouse keeper’s cottage
huddled by the heater drinking tea. Whilein the summers we were out driving theland rover on the beaches, catching andtagging seals, radio tracking them fromcliff tops and taking to sea to photographdolphins. I took courses in cartography,

earned my large vessel license, learned todrive on sand, wrangle seals with large teeth
and helped out in the auxiliary coastguard.
I learned to fix outboard engines, to solder
my own acoustic preamplifier boards andpot free hydrophones donated by the UK
air force. We helped each other out andlearned to do an awful lot with a little.
People often talk about how doing a PhD
is hard and seems never ending, however,I found the question of what to do next
the hardest. There was no one helping me
onwards. The enquiries I wrote to try andfind a postdoctoral position didn’t amountto anything concrete. Even though I had 4
papers published from my thesis, I seemed
to be competing with people who were
way better than I was. No one seemed towant a marine mammalogist, I would havebeen better off sticking with bats. So… I
went to the 1st World Marine Mammal
Conference in Monaco with no job, very
little money and no idea of what to do next.

What happened? I met the love of my life,
an Australian researcher called Dr. Peter
Corkeron, to whom I have been married forover 20 years now.

Inshore Dolphins
Down Under

With a lot of applications in and nothing
to do I bought a round the world ticket
and went to visit Peter in Australia, why
not? He had a research project starting up
on Indo Pacific humpback and Snubfin(then Irrawaddy) dolphins and needed
an acoustician to help out, perfect! So I
moved to lush hot insect ridden tropical
Australia and spent long days on the waterin oppressive heat looking for elusive
inshore dolphins. It taught me that working
on seals is awfully straightforward since
they spend at least part of their day outof the water. It was here that I started
to understand what it meant to work inconservation biology. Watching Peter’s
passion to understand and protect these
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Sofie Van Parijs Cont.

threatened and little known species was
inspiring. I had only thought of science as
an intellectual pursuit, gaining knowledgeof a species and its environment. It hadn’t
occurred to me what it meant to work inareas that were not as heavily affected byhumans compared to the European North
Sea. It taught me a new understanding ofwhat nature should really be like and what
we’ve already lost. Imagine my joy when I
set up a side project studying the acoustics
of fruit bats! Just as I was settling into life
in Australia, I heard that I’d been awardeda Marie Curie Postdoctoral fellowship towork with Professor Kit Kovacs on bearded
seals in the Norwegian Arctic… what to do?

The Land of
Ice and Snow

We moved to northern Norway in
November, to a town with 6 foot highwalls of snow and 2 months of total
darkness. I said we, because Peter gave up
his position at James Cook University inAustralia and came with me. When there
are discussions about how women often
have to make sacrifices in the workplace
to maintain a relationship or family, it
is important to remember that there aremen out there too who are prepared tomake these hard decisions, who choose
to put their relationship or family before

their careers. To be a successful womenin science I have found that it really helps
to have a partner who meets you halfway,in this case way more than half way. Field
work in Svalbard, the Norwegian Arctic
Islands was unbelievably beautiful. In thespring time the islands are covered in awhite blanket of deep snow, with glaciers
spewing out at the mouths of fjords. I
worked mostly on the acoustic underwater
behavior of bearded seals who produce
long alien-like trills that make you think
there has been a supernatural underwater
invasion. Field work involved driving
around on snow scooters or small metalboats from one fjord to the next to makerecordings at the ice edge. My scooter
would frequently get stuck in snow drifts
and my helpful Norwegian field assistantwould come, pick up my heavy scooter
and put it back on track, shaking his headwondering how I ended up stuck in thefirst place! Amongst other useful skills, hetaught me how to shoot a WWII rifle anduse a flare gun in case we came across apolar bear, as well as how to break throughice in our small metal boat when we weretrapped by ice floes. Kit and her partner,
Dr. Christian Lydersen, took me on many
adventures catching and tagging bearded,
ringed seals, walrus and belugas. We

Sofie’s student, Ilse Van Opzeeland, recording
a harp seal.
Page 33: Left: Sofie with harp seal in Norway.
Top: Small boat in Norway.
Bottom: Killer whales off Norway.
Photos courtesy of Sofie Van Parijs.

32

BRE AK ING THE SURFACE WOMEN OF CETOLOGY

circumnavigated Svalbard in a sailboat. I
also was able to go to the ‘West Ice’ off ofeastern Greenland to record harp seal pups
and record killer whales as they gorged onfish discards in a Norwegian fjord. All ofthese were out of this world experiences.
However, Norway was a really tough place
to live, especially for someone like Peter
coming from tropical Australia. Aftera near death experience giving birth toour daughter and 4 years with many dark
winter nights, we decided to take a leap offaith with no long term job prospects in site
and nowhere to go. It was terrifying.

Conservation Acoustics
and NOAA

What do you do when you have nowhere to
go? You talk to your friends and colleagues
that you’ve met along the way and ask
them for help. Professor Chris Clark,
offered us a place in his research lab at
Cornell University, allowing us time tofigure out what life was going to bringnext. Another colleague of mine from mypinniped days, Dr. Brandon Southall, put
me in touch with Dr. Richard Merrick, thehead of the protected species branch at thetime, at the Northeast Fisheries Service inWoods Hole, MA. He was looking for an
acoustician to run a pilot project on ocean
noise and right whales. This seed projectled to the permanent job I have now, one of
the first positions that was created within
NOAA for a passive acoustic researchscientist. My job was a blank slate when I
walked into it, but the years of experiencearound the globe have shown me the valueof gaining perspective, understanding
different oceans, environments, species
adaptations and societal attitudes. It is thisand my conservation minded dedicatedmarine mammalogist husband that havemade me understand the value and urgent
need for conservation biology. Which is
why I chose from the start to focus myjob on using acoustic technologies for the
purpose of conservation. My research
program has grown enormously starting
off simply focused on finding endangered
baleen whales and other cetaceansusing their sounds. It has expanded tounderstand long term distributional,
behavioral changes and anthropogenic
challenges for all marine animals. We
also use acoustics to identify spawning
aggregations of overfished fish species,
characterizing soundscapes to monitor
the long term health of a habitat andmonitor illegal vessel activities in marineparks. The initial seed project on ocean
noise and right whales grew into a larger
project working with Chris Clark, and Dr.
Leila Hatch. Leila started her job at the
National Marine Sanctuary Office, NOAAin Scituate, MA, at the same time as I
started my job. We have worked together
these past 14 years and have developed anamazing relationship which spans fromdeep loyalty, trust, support, friendshipand a shared belief in doing meaningful
science that will make a difference.
Together we’ve put our joint effort into
expanding the value of passive acoustics
and its use throughout sanctuaries, marineparks and other ecologically important
areas. Working within an institution like
NOAA is both a blessing and a curse.
Passive acoustics was not well known
when I started and although there wasmuch encouragement, there was little
financial support to do any research.
However, this is where my long historyof making things happen for myself by
writing grants, putting out new ideas
and being resourceful paid off. I received
funds to work on research from outsideof NOAA and largely still run our passive

acoustics research program through thismechanism. It makes us need to staycompetitive and always come up with new
creative solutions and ideas. Over this time,
my research group and I have made major
inroads into increasing an understandingof the value of using sound as a tool forunderstanding the oceans.

For Those Young
Aspiring Scientists

My time in Norway was marked by
my first ever students. I took on three
undergraduate honors students and forthe first time was able to start to help
others become who they wanted to be as
scientists. Dr. Ilse Van Opzeeland was sokeen on the project I had to offer, recording
harp seal mothers and pups, that she
chose it over working on chickens in thebasement at Groningen University in the
Netherlands. Did she regret her choice?
Well, she spent the wild trip out to theWest Ice sick and immobile in her bed.
To this day she swears that halfway to theice pack, that chicken project was looking
really good to her! Once at the ice pack,the ocean swell disappears and you are left
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Left: Sofie trekking the arctic expanses in Norway.
Right: Norwegian sky.
Photos courtesy of Sofie Van Parijs.

Sofie Van Parijs Cont.

with an ocean filled with flat pancakes of
ice upon which thousands of hooded andharp seals and their pups lie. We would behelicoptered from the ship to the ice pack,
and when the helicopter left and the ship
was behind the horizon, it was as if you
were no longer on earth. The sensation offeeling so removed from humanity wasincredible, it felt like being on a different
planet. So, I think she ultimately was
happy with her project choice. Ilse is now
a scientist at the Alfred Wegner Institutein Germany, working on polar acoustics, I
was on her PhD committee and still workwith her today. Dr. Denise Risch came tome from Humboldt University in Germany
and Nina Jensen came from Universityof Oslo, Norway to work on bearded seal
acoustics. They both spent a month atCornell in Chris Clark’s Bioacoustics
Research Program. Denise explored thegeographical variation in bearded seal
trills across the Arctic. After her thesis
she joined me in the US and has since
worked with me for many years, including
during her PhD. She is now at the Scottish
Institute for Marine Research using
acoustics to listen for marine mammals in
UK and European waters. I still work with
Denise whenever possible. Nina lookedat how changing ice conditions affectedbearded seal trills and, inspired to make adifference, went to work for and eventually
led Norway’s World Wildlife Fund. She is
now the CEO for RevOcean, a multimillion
dollar venture aimed at ocean explorationand conservation.
34

What is most important to me throughout
the careers of these young scientists
and others since then, is to make surethat whenever I could help them findthe next step or some work to tide themover, I would help them find this. Having
struggled so much to find my ‘next step’,
I enjoy helping others through that toughtime whenever it is possible for me to doso. Seeing those in my research group
past and present… just a few of these are
Danielle Cholewiak, Genevieve Davis,
Annamaria DeAnglis, Jenni Stanley,Paul Caiger, Tim Rowell, Rob Valtierra,
Joy Stanistreet, Julianne Bonnell, Keith
Hernandez, Heather Heenehan, Liz Vu…. grow and find their way is what makes
this task so enjoyable and keeps my desire
to keep going strong. My position has
allowed me the freedom to create andraise a group of scientists who all will
hopefully walk into their ‘next thing’with an understanding of the value ofusing acoustics for conservation and theurgent need for us to use our science
for the improvement of our oceans.
You don’t need to be the smartest, youneed to be motivated, work hard andbe keen. Marine mammal science andconservation especially requires tenacity
and a belief that we can do better, because
we can. Connections and relationships
are what build your next opportunities.
These do not just need to be tenured
professors, they can be anyone, people
you meet in the field, at a meeting, via
email, planning a project. They may be

BRE AK ING THE SURFACE WOMEN OF CETOLOGY

the ones who cook the food, teach you
to fix your equipment or help you run astatistical test. You don’t know who it will
be who will help you when you next needit, so be open, collegial and work together.
My position allows me to make sure I
don’t repeat the things that bothered me
as a student. I reply to all my emails (nomatter who is writing), I make it clearthat not everyone is a great orator andthat in time you can get better, I makesure to be inclusive… it is your choice to
do likewise when you become a scientist
in your own right. We are facing a very
serious conservation crisis on land and in
the oceans. It’s not going to be for the faintof heart. We can’t all have the career wedream of but we can make ourselves into
someone worthwhile who is doing their
bit to improve our environment. Travel, go
see other oceans and species, see what itmeans to be in a productive ocean versus
a depleted one, learn what it means to seea healthy whale versus a sickly emaciatedpopulation, like the North Atlantic rightwhales. Gain perspective so that you canbetter understand what the environment
used to be like and not presume thatwhat you see is how it’s always been.
Understand different cultures and humanchallenges. Explore, speak up, appreciate
and give back.

Jom during a survey off Lubang Island, the Philippines. Photo by AG Saño.

When aWhale Lands
on Your Lap
Jo Marie AcebesUnlike many people in my field, I did
not grow up wanting to be a biologist,
let alone a marine biologist, and I
definitely was not inspired to study cetaceansfrom my first visit to a marine park. My first
visit was to Sea World in San Diego during myfamily’s first trip to the U.S. when I was 13 andsomehow surprisingly, the performing orcas
didn’t stick with me. It was the sea otter that
got me! I just thought they were super cute!
I didn’t even see my first whale in the wild
until I was 25 and it wasn’t in the Philippines
either. It was during another visit to
California. It was just a blow from afar while
I was sitting in a golf cart while waiting forfriends. I wasn’t even sure what I saw.
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Jo Marie Acebes Cont.

Although my memory isn’t very clear about
it, according to my elementary school
yearbook, I wanted to become a lawyer
like my Dad. But somehow that dreamdissipated. What I do know is that even as
a young child, I loved animals. I’ve had somany different kinds of pets from ducks,
birds, fish, dogs, cats, even a civet! But yes,that was way back when I was too young tounderstand what was right and wrong aboutkeeping wild animals as pets and before anyof those laws were passed in our country.
Fast forward to my senior high school year, I
remember wanting to apply for a veterinary
medicine course. But my parents had asimple answer, “no, that university is too far,take biology instead in any of the universities
within Metro Manila.” Born and raised in
the Philippines, my parents’ generation andthe ones before them were believers in only
three promising careers or “real” professions:doctor, lawyer or engineer. You pick one. And
I completely understood that, it was nevereasy for them back then and being any oneof those three guaranteed them financial
security so that’s what most people aimed for.
Being the dutiful daughter that I was (ormore like, I wasn’t that hardcore into a
specific career yet), I followed their advice
and took biology. I thought, ok, I can be a36

doctor. A “real” doctor, as my mom called it.
I finished my Bachelor’s in Biology and got
accepted to a medical school together with
my friends. It was all good. Until after 4
months into med school I started getting sick.
I had unexplained fevers and the doctors
didn’t know what was going on. In the end,
the doctors thought it was all psychosomatic– that my body (and mind) wasn’t ready formed school so I was advised to take a leave ofabsence. I was assured that I could just comeback a year later and pick up where I left off.
It was that year that led me to veterinary
medicine. During that break, I took apart-time job and found myself checking
out the veterinary medicine program atthe University of the Philippines in Los
Baños – that far away university my parents
didn’t want me to go to in the first place.
Without my parents’ consent I submitted myapplication, took the entrance exam and got
in. Telling them about my plan to enter wasdevastating to them, especially my mom, but
my Dad was a lot more understanding andwith his help my mom learned to accept it.
Vet school came relatively easy for me so I
thought it was my calling. Even back then, I
had no interest in cetaceans, I was looking
into primates…the closest species I could get
to in the country at least.

BRE AK ING THE SURFACE WOMEN OF CETOLOGY

It was during my college years studying
biology that I got really interested inprimates and large cats, both animalgroups we don’t have in the Philippines(not counting macaques). I remember
browsing through my Dad’s old copies of
the National Geographic Magazine anddistinctly remember finding a copy with
Dian Fossey on the cover. That began mylittle obsession with mountain gorillas. I
watched documentaries and movies, readmagazines and dreamed of going to Africa
to see them. By the time I was in veterinary
school, I was hell bent on becoming awildlife veterinarian in Africa. I even tried
looking for wildlife veterinary internships
in the U.S. but as fate has it, there were too
many roadblocks that prevented me fromeven qualifying to apply, mainly because
I was Filipino. So, there I was, a fresh
veterinary medicine graduate with a shiny
new license and nowhere to go.
In search of jobs in wildlife medicine, I
tried our local zoo and volunteered, but ina week, realized it wasn’t for me. The realjourney into cetology really began shortly
after that. My Dad was driving me from a
local animal shelter where I went to checkout volunteer opportunities and remembereda friend’s advice to check out the office ofLeft: Jom after her exams at Oxford University.
Right: During a small boat survey off the
Babuyan Channel.
Photos courtesy of Jo Marie Acebes.
Page 36: Jom conducting fieldwork off
Babuyan Islands, the Philippines.
Photo by Sonny Thakur.

WWF-Philippines. Since it was within thearea, we went there. I was only planning todrop off my cv but fortunately, the head of
the Species Unit back then, Dr. Yaptinchay,
was available to talk to me. I don’t remember
now exactly how that interview went but it
was the meeting that steered my career path.
It was the year WWF-Philippines confirmedthat humpback whales were migrating in
the Philippines. Dr. AA Yaptinchay had justcome from one of the islands in the northern
Philippines and saw it for himself. They
wanted to start an investigation of it but
didn’t have the funding yet, so they wanted
a volunteer to help them do some literaturesearch in the meantime. He asked if I was
willing to do it for free. I said yes. A whale
just landed on my lap.
I worked as an unpaid volunteer for WWFPhilippines for 8 months before they finallygot funding and hired me as a researcher.
At that point, I learned everything about
humpback whales from the limited papers
we had access to. Dr. Yaptinchay thought that
if I was going to study cetaceans, I better getsome formal classes on it and he directed me
to the only marine mammal course being
offered in the country back then – a summer
course in Silliman University in Dumaguete
City, Negros taught by Dr. Bill Perrin and
Dr. Louella Dolar. It was learning from themthat really inspired me to continue in thisfield, a field I literally started out not knowing
anything about. It was their confidence
in me and all the support I received fromseveral other people that convinced me this isactually worth it.
The pay was terrible, especially since I had
no specialized qualifications for it. The
work was long and difficult. With little
funding, we had to make do with what we
had to be able to do field work.
In 2000, I was entrusted by WWFPhilippines to lead the first boat survey
around the Babuyan Islands to document
the humpback whales breeding there.

With less than 30 hours of “boat time” on
my belt and having seen only a handful of
species in the wild, I felt insecure to leadsuch an expedition. I had never even seen a
humpback in real life!
I led a team of volunteers: three biologists,
three veterinarians, an engineer, and aphotographer (none of which had ever seen
a humpback whale in real life) on an oldwooden outrigger boat with personal andborrowed equipment, tasked to embark on
the first ever boat-based cetacean survey inthat part of the country.
Having conducted interviews along thecoast of the Babuyan Channel, I had themost knowledge about the islands and theliving conditions there but had never set
foot on any of the islands. The Babuyangroup of islands is composed of five mainislands: Camiguin, Fuga, Dalupiri, Calayan
and Babuyan Claro. The nearest islandfrom the mainland is about 50 kilometers.
Our objective was to survey around all
the islands and document all cetacean
species that we might find and hopefully
document humpback whales.
Two out of four of the islands had electricity
but it was limited. Running only at night for
4 hours in a few houses in the community.
There was no mobile reception in any of
the islands which meant we were out ofcommunication range as soon as we left thedock on the mainland. There are no hotels
there or rooms for rent or campsites. We
lived with the two coast guards stationed
there in their little hut. No electricity. No
plumbing. We cooked our meals on a woodfire stove and washed ourselves in the
nearby stream. We surveyed around theisland every day. We surveyed around thefour main islands, staying on one island
for about 4-5 days and then moved on tosurvey the next. We first surveyed aroundFuga Island where humpback whales werefirst confirmed to occur. No whales. We
decided to go to the other island on the East,

Camiguin and try our luck there. After fivedays of surveying around Camiguin, we saw
nothing but dolphins.
On the fifth night, we gathered around alamp and chatted with one of the fisher
neighbors. He was telling us how he would
be fishing at night just a few kilometers
off the coast and he would hear an eerie
bellowing sound coming from the sea – hesaid it sounded almost like a cow. So the very
next morning he took three of us out on his
small fishing boat to the spot where he said
he would usually see a whale. We got there,
turned off the engine, and waited, looking
out at sea. Within a few minutes, we heard
it- the low bellowing sound of a humpback
whale. You can just imagine how we all felt
at that time. It was our first time to hear a
humpback whale singing! Within a couple ofminutes, a whale surfaced about 100m fromus. It was our first humpback whale sighting.
The rest, as they say, is history.
That year, we managed to survey fourislands out of five and we photographed
humpback whales (mothers, calves,competitive groups, singers) anddocumented 4 other species of cetaceans.
We were able to make the first songrecordings, too. That was the first cetacean
survey in that region of the Philippines
and the first on a large whale. Not badfor a group of inexperienced researchers
onboard a wooden outrigger boat in a
far off group of islands in the northern
Philippines! The following year, 2001, wewere able to take the first nine humpback
whale fluke photo-IDs and acquired our
first sloughed skin samples and biopsy
samples from humpback whales.
It wasn’t exactly smooth sailing from thenon because we still struggled, like otherresearch projects, with limited funding.
We had to deal with training volunteers
every year- most of whom had never seena dolphin or whale…or had never been
on a small boat in the open sea! From our
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Jo Marie Acebes Cont.

rough, small beginnings, we managed tokeep on sailing.
When WWF-Philippines concluded their
humpback project in 2006, I together
with a few other former volunteers,
decided to continue the work. Througha small grant and contributions fromvolunteers, we managed to organize thefirst humpback whale survey independent
from WWF in 2007. From then on, we
continued working towards achieving
the goals of the original WWF project.
Today, the Humpback whale research andconservation project is run by BALYENA.
ORG. We are a small non-profit with a
mission: “To support the conservationof cetaceans – whales, dolphins, andporpoises – and their natural habitats in
the Philippines.” We aim to achieve thisthrough participatory research, advocacy,
education, and capacity development for
the empowerment of local communities
and relevant stakeholders. We monitor

38

the status, distribution, and abundanceof humpback whales in the Babuyan
Islands through boat-based surveys andphoto-identification. In addition, we record
humpback whale vocalizations and takebiopsy samples for genetic analysis. We
also monitor and assess potential threats tocetaceans in the area.
Running a small research andconservation NGO in the Philippines is
not easy. It definitely does not put foodon the table. That is why in order to do
this I had to make sure I had a normal
day job. I was fortunate to have had
opportunities opened up for me, including
the opportunity to go to graduate school.
After working for a little over four years
with WWF-Philippines, I felt the needto know more, to broaden my horizon
beyond humpback whales and issues
about cetaceans. That’s what working fora conservation NGO in the Philippines
does to you, I think. It opens your eyes

BRE AK ING THE SURFACE WOMEN OF CETOLOGY

to all the different problems facing theenvironment and the people. I sought fora masters course that I thought would giveme a broader perspective. I wanted to moveaway from becoming a whale specialist
and become a generalist, if you can say
that. I found a couple of courses whichwere totally out of my league, but I sent myapplications anyway. I applied for several
scholarships, too, but with no luck. But
luck did knock on my door again when I
was accepted at the University of Oxford.
The downside: no scholarship; I obviously
could not afford to go there. I honestly did
not seriously consider going; I had acceptedthat I just had to search more and wait
another year. But when I mentioned to myparents that I got accepted, I was surprised
when my Dad even asked how much it
would cost. He then said that if I reallywanted to go, he might be able to find away. I couldn’t believe it. I couldn’t imagine
where we could get that money. After sometime, he said it was possible to sell someland to cover for my first semester and therest we just have to figure it out. With that I
thought: okay, there must be some funding
I can get somewhere to at least cover for
my flight to the U.K. (which I did) and I canjust work part-time to cover for my food.
Long story short, I managed to walk the
cobbled streets of Oxford and survived
the rain, cold and dreariness. It was thebest of times, it was the worst of times…(Ishould cite that). I met an amazing groupof people from all over the world during
my stay there and learned so much morethan I expected. It was one of the toughest
times in my young career, too, because I
worked 12 hours a week while studying fulltime. I worked as a library assistant in thewee hours of the night, as an invigilator(watching over students taking exams)
or as building security after office hours
or during special events and as a scout(dormitory/college house cleaner). I lived
there through the generosity of my parents,
my friends, professors, and hardshipgrants. But I regretted none of that! It was
actually fun (although the cleaning was
backbreaking sometimes). Thousands ofpeanut butter sandwiches (my lunch on
most days because it was all I could afford)
and a year later, I got my degree. One thing
I do regret is not finding the money to fly
my parents to attend my graduation.
I went straight home after graduation
with no job prospects waiting for me. It
was then that I started to learn how tosearch for research grants. With somecontacts I was able to get consultancy
work to live on and eventually got hired byanother conservation NGO, Conservation
International – Philippines. During thistime, I was juggling with the researchon humpbacks (with no pay and run on
volunteers’ contributions) and a normal
day job. It was also during that time that
I finally decided that setting up my own
NGO would be the only way for me tosustain the research on humpback whalesin the Babuyan Islands.
One bit of advice I can give to upcomingor young researchers is: it pays to attend
conferences and do volunteer work.
Attending conferences and networking
is how you meet all these people who canmentor you and open doors for you. Never
get tired of applying for travel grants toattend conferences! Volunteering gives you
field experience. It is through volunteeringthat people will know what you are capableof beyond what is written on your cv.

I got the opportunity to do a PhD throughsomeone I met during a conference. He
introduced me to the man who became
my PhD supervisor and he also pointed
me to the PhD scholarship that made it all
happen. At this point in my life, my interests
have broadened to include historicalhunting for large marine vertebrates. As
some have said, this was when I turned to
the “dark side.” Joking aside, I think it was
an inevitable shift. Maybe not even a shift
but just a re-framing.
My Dad hailed from a town in Bohol in
the central Philippines where manta rays
were hunted for at least over a century.
My grandparents were buyers and sellers
of manta meat back in those days. I spent
my summers in that town when I was
growing up. The pull towards Bohol wasnever resisted. I remember learning about
local whaling there while I was working
at WWF-Philippines and it has always
interested me. That’s why I chose toinvestigate the history of local whaling for
my masters dissertation. It was then that I
found a link back to my Dad’s home town
and manta ray hunting. My PhD journey
was not easy either. It is when I learned,
the hard way, that your nationality,
research experience in a site, familiarityof the culture, and academic credentials
don’t matter much. You can still be seenby those outside your “normal” field as a
novice. It took me over a year to convince
my supervisors that I was clear on what I
wanted to do for my dissertation and that
I was ready to go in the field (which was
my home). The learning curve was steep
and I constantly felt that I had to provemyself. It was tough but again I was lucky
to have parents, friends and colleagues
who believed in me. Doing a PhD was
difficult, no matter who you are or where
you are from. Doing a PhD in a foreigncountry, in a foreign language, where you
have no family, where you are making new
friends, and under time constraints (thescholarship was only for 3 years) all adds
several other layers to it. But again, I was
lucky to have been part of a great group ofpeople at the Asia Research Center and formeeting friends who were undergoing asimilar experience.

Top: The 2020 humpback whale survey team.
Photo by Lidia Krinova.
Bottom: Jom conducting interviews withfishermen on Panaon Island.
Photo by Cameron Hookey.
Page 38: A humpback whale breachingin the Phillipines.
Photo by Jo Marie Acebes.

With my student visa up, I had to submit
my dissertation for examination then fly
back home. I had to wait for my resultsfrom home. The uncertainty of life backhome was again upon me but luck knocked
once again and I got an offer for a teaching

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Jom with her team during a small boat
survey off the Babuyan Islands in 2002.
Photo by AG Saño.

Jo Marie Acebes Cont.

position at my old university in Manila.
Although my teaching-stint was brief, ittaught me a lot. The most important of
which was, being an assistant professor
at a university here was not for me. They
were heavy on the teaching and allowed
very little time or opportunity to do any
field research. I had a new found respect
for all teachers and professors while I was
there. Teaching is a calling. It is not for the
faint-hearted. It is not just about talking infront of a class for 15 or so hours a week. It
includes hours preparing for your lecture,
hours talking to students for consultation,
hours preparing exams, and even more
hours marking exams. I even had to teachcourses I barely knew anything about
which frustrated me. But I definitely had
good days, too. Those days where a student
came up to me to say how he or she enjoyed
my class or whenever a student asked,“how can I tell my parents that I don’t want
to be a doctor? I want to study plants” or“I want to become a veterinarian.” I also
took every opportunity I could to take myclasses out on real field trips and not justto the usual nearby beach or mangrovearea. I took them to different islands toactually see dolphins and whale sharks
and interview fishers and tourists.
The call of the whales never left me theentire time. I somehow found a way to still
go on the humpback whale survey during
their breeding season. What eventuallyprompted me to leave teaching was when
they changed the academic calendar. It
meant I would miss the humpback whale
season because I had to teach classes. At

40

the end of the semester before that newcalendar was implemented, my contract
ended at the university and I was relieved
because it made the decision easier.
My venturing into environmental history
and dipping my toes in fisheries and more“social sciencey” stuff didn’t mean I forgot
about whales. In fact, it made me more awareof the importance of looking at issues froma different perspective or perspectives. How
I managed to keep our NGO afloat while I
was doing my PhD and after I came backis another long story. In summary, it was
through the help of friends and colleagues.
That struggle hasn’t ended…it just evolved.
I still dream of someday having paid staff, asmall research boat and our own field stationin the Babuyan Islands or at the very least,
guaranteed funding for at least three years!
It is free to dream! For now, and for the pastten years, we have stayed afloat by keeping
our normal day jobs and doing everythingelse during our free time. And of course, byfinding innovative ways to raise funding.
Working on BALYENA.ORG full-time isdefinitely the aim. I am striving for that andhope that in one to two years it will happen.
If you ask me what advice I would give toaspiring cetologists, especially those fromdeveloping countries like the Philippines,
I would say meet other researchers, attend
conferences if you can, attend talks, andvolunteer for projects. Yes, it won’t pay
and, in most cases, you will have to spendmoney, but if you stick to it, it will pay off.
Maybe not as a paid job at the start, but it
will at least get your foot in the door. Whenyou volunteer to assist in research projects

BRE AK ING THE SURFACE WOMEN OF CETOLOGY

you will learn much more and they will
get to know you, too. To Filipinos who are
already in this field and are struggling,
don’t give up. I sincerely believe that if you
really want something, you will find a way
to get it. Legally of course!
I’m saying this from experience. It is noteasy being from a developing country likethe Philippines in this field. Degrees andfield experience carry much weight and we
don’t get those easily here. Getting fundingis hard enough, but being a Filipino
with no marine biology degree, PhD orexperience in the marine mammal field
makes it even harder.
Find your niche, your species, your field site,
and know everything that you can about it.
Don’t ever think that you cannot do it simply
because you are not from the US or Europe
or have been educated outside of a Western
institution. Don’t let anyone stop you justbecause your English is not good enough.
Seek mentors. There are many good people
out there who are willing to guide you. Whenyou have found it – whether it be a species
found in the waters in your hometown or one
great idea of a project, stick to it, don’t give it
up and make it your own. Don’t let anyone
take it from you.
I am grateful for where I am now and what
I have done so far. I don’t take credit for allof it because most of it was made possible
through the kindness and generosity ofothers. I do take credit for the perseverance
and hard work. Overall, I have been
extremely lucky. Not everyone gets to havea whale land on their lap!

Denise conducting her research among Atlantic spotted dolphins in The Bahamas. Photo courtesy of Denise L. Herzing.

Studying Dolphinsin the Wild:
My Story W
Denise L. Herzing

hen I was 12 years old, I used toread the Encyclopedia Britannica,
and I would always stop at thewhale and dolphin page. I wondered what
their lives were like in the wild and what they
were thinking. At that time Jane Goodall wasout studying chimpanzees, Dian Fossey wasout observing gorillas, and Cynthia Mosswas sketching out individual elephants for
identification. All these researchers had
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Denise L. Herzing Cont.

one thing in common: they had planted
themselves in a wild location to observe awild animal society and had committed
themselves to decades of field work to try
to understand their subjects. I wondered if
I could find a place in the world to observewild dolphins on a regular basis. Then,on TV, Jacques Cousteau introduced theunderwater world to us, and I was hooked.
As soon as I was old enough, and after theice had finally broken from the rock quarry
near my home in Minnesota, I got SCUBA
certified. Once certified, I immediately
hopped in my car and drove to Florida so I
could dive in some warm water.
I am a pretty disciplined person and as a
student I stayed on track to study marine
mammalogy and gain experience, withthe hope of eventually focusing on dolphin
communication. I studied under Dr. Bruce
Mate in Oregon for my undergraduate
work and had opportunities to countwhales from a lighthouse, help withtagging work in Mexico, pick through42

preserved sperm whale stomachs forsquid beaks, and watch harbor seals at the
local salmon hatchery. All experiences,
no matter how large or small, add to theprocess of learning science, learning data,and helping you along in your career.
For my graduate work I studied under
Dr. Diana Reiss in the San Francisco Bay
area. Although I learned a lot during ourwork with captive bottlenose dolphins,
I was focused on working in the wild for
my future career. I had spent my preundergraduate days sailing on Regina
Maris, a training ship for young scientists,and other research vessels. I knew I wanted
a life at sea. I realize that I was lucky in thisregard, having a passion so early on in life.
I really had great mentors during myacademic time. In addition to Bruce Mate,Jim Sumich and Jim Harvey were also
instrumental during my time in Oregon.
There never seemed to be any issues about
men or women or who could do field work.

BRE AK ING THE SURFACE WOMEN OF CETOLOGY

I was always expected to participate in any
science opportunity that came up. And
I took every opportunity I could find to
get exposure and experience. I really had
nothing to discourage me in my careerat that stage. Although I had emotionally
supportive parents, I lost them very early. So,
I was independent at a young age but foundmany unforeseen helpers along the way:
everything from supportive teachers to carmechanics. So, you never know where yourhelp and support will come from.
While in San Francisco studying with
Diana Reiss, I also found a great part time
job at an institute that studied mind/bodyphenomena. Ken Pelletier was my main
mentor there, and more than inspiring,
Ken showed me how to walk a fine line
when studying new aspects of the naturalsciences. Pushing the boundaries for
ideas and methodology is always an issue
in science, and learning how to be a well
prepared and a knowledgeable scientist
was something I learned from him.

Top Photos: Denise at sea.
Bottom: The R/V Stenella.
Page 42: A group of Atlantic Spotted
Dolphins confronting a group of
Bottlenose Dolphins.
Photos courtesy of Denise L. Herzing.

Obstacles
Along the Way

I didn’t really have many obstacles in mycareer until I started doing work in the
Bahamas. I was young, a graduate student,
and taking an alternative approach tofunding as well as fieldwork. I had set
up my own non-profit to support thework and I decided to work underwater
to observe the complexities of dolphin
society. After a few years of documenting
the incredible underwater behavior of the
spotted dolphins in the Bahamas, I began
to see some obstacles. I am still not sure
if it was jealousy, or folks just wanting totake over the project I had developed, but I
experienced some uncomfortable run-ins
with professors and their up-and-coming
graduate students who wanted to grab
things and run. Along the way I have also
had a lawsuit with a previous employee
who did take the data and run. So, securing
your data, either with legalese or with the
copyright office in D.C., is never a bad idea.
Data is about all a scientist has, and it ishard earned and worth fighting for.
Of course, women continue to have allsorts of challenges in science careers.
These challenges can appear in the formof funding, family, or opportunities. I am awhite, American woman but other cultures

can have different challenges as womenand as citizens of other countries. But evenas an American, I found evidence of notso-equal opportunities, despite our laws.
I remember one of the marine mammalsociety conferences I attended when Ken
Norris stood up and congratulated thesociety for having 50% women at that time.
Applause erupted. But I didn’t feel like it
was really 50%. I decided to review andtally the women listed in the conference(and previous years) that were chairing
sessions or running symposia and notedthat only a few were listed. After doing
my tallies I wrote a letter to the thenPresident of the Society, noting the lackof women in these roles, even thoughparity was thought to exist in the Society
membership. I had already attended an
ECS conference in Europe and noted
how many women were in these positions
already. I thought it strange because I had
always thought the USA had the best laws
and equal opportunities, but such laws
are only as good as they are enforced orenacted. Equal distribution of power andexposure opportunities are critical during
the development of a career, and women
still have to fight for them or make themhappen for themselves. I partnered withvarious women colleagues over the years to
put on workshops and symposiums to drive

the field as well as promote other female
researchers. Exposure to colleagues in thefield is often obtained by chairing sessions,working on committees, and collegial
projects. It’s a bit like the golf course wherebusiness folks, historically only men,
often networked to do business. Things
have come a long way, but not without
women standing up for, and encouraging,
opportunities for other women.

Friendor Foe?

Although it’s easy to think only women canbe our allies that is simply not true at all.
Some of my best allies have been men. And
some of my non-allies have been women.
I think it’s a matter of the person and theirethics in their life and in their careers. I have
known female colleagues that have tried tosteal data and credit for personal gain. And
I have known male allies who fought behindthe scenes for my work, some that I didn’t
even know did so until later.
My experience has taught me that you
need to choose your friends and colleagues
carefully. It’s a small field, and if you can’t
trust your colleagues with your data or yourreputation, then it is not worth joining forces.
If we are to transcend bias, gender, andracism, it is the person themselves we must
look to, not their external attributes.
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Denise L. Herzing Cont.

I think most of my problems during mycareer stemmed from my new, but perhaps
unorthodox, way to do work. Mine was asituation where I had to enter the water
to observe dolphins. Although I had
terrestrial models for observing animals,
you can’t easily build a blind to observedolphins or whales underwater. Cetaceans
are mobile animals who often only allow
us a small glimpse of their world. Finding
new methods to analyze underwater dataalso involved some creative rethinking
and remodeling from the terrestrial
research world. As marine mammalogists,
we sometimes think we need to reinvent
the wheel. Already existing methods canfurther expedite our studies in marine
mammalogy. Some of the questions I
received during manuscript reviews were:How could someone really sex dolphins
underwater? Can you observe natural
behavior underwater without influencing
the animals? Interestingly, the question
about observing natural behavior andhabituation was one that we researchedthoroughly during our review process.
We found that most researchers, in theirpapers, said something like “the dolphins
started getting habituated around ourboat, so we then started seeing natural
behavior”. It was rare, other than cliffbased observations, that anyone could
really measure “habituation”. So, we
simply argued this point in our reviews,
citing other published papers that had todeal with the issue of “habituation”.
In addition, because of my great viewing
field site, my work was often coveredby the media. They simply wanted thebest images they could get, and I simply
wanted the best place to observe animals
underwater, but I can see how this would
look like too much media coverage to some.
Nevertheless, I was excited to share thisunderwater world with a larger audienceand do our bit for education.
I think in the end, because I was so
determined to just observe dolphins in thewild, I really didn’t spend too much time
worrying about opinions, jealousies, andother factors that reared their ugly heads
on occasion. I tried to collect good data,
do honest analysis, and work throughpublication reviews like any scientist mustdo. I think it’s important to work throughthe problems, address the obstacles as
fairly and clearly as possible, and then44

Denise at the bow overlooking Atlantic spotted dolphins.
Photo courtesy of Denise L. Herzing.

move on, continue to do the work, and stay
as professional as possible.
I think women still have many challenges,
but of course many doors are now openthat were not before. However, women
still find it hard to incorporate family life
with full blown careers. Field careers areespecially hard and demanding on time,and although there are some programs that
try to support women to reenter sciencefields after some time off, women do lose
time and opportunities that are often hard
to recapture. Of course, it might depend on
your partner in this world, but I am NOT abeliever in the superwoman. I think women
suffer greatly by trying to do everything,and it may just come down to some simple
choices. I think there are many ways of
being a productive human in the world.
To me, passion and perseverance are key
elements to doing work in the field and evenscience, since it demands so much of our
spirit and energy. Observing how mentors
work with, and give, other female students
opportunities, should help illuminate whatenvironment you are moving into in any
institution or situation.

BRE AK ING THE SURFACE WOMEN OF CETOLOGY

A Thought
for the Future

In the end, I am a big believer in doing
good work with commitment and spirit.
And if you can’t find a way in an existing
system, then make a new one. Find anotherway to get funding if the “club” doesn’t let
you in or if the funding institution is too
antiquated to handle cutting-edge ideas.
Reach out for help with trusted allies andcolleagues. Work through hard data, ordevelop new methods, if you are trying
to challenge a paradigm or a long-heldbelief about your research area. This issometimes hard-fought, but it is also theway science evolves and learns. In science,
we use the best tools we have available
at the time. When new tools become
available, we sometimes discover that what
we thought we knew is outdated. This is a
hard pill to swallow for any senior scientist.
Our careers are based on the work we havedone and conclusions we have drawn. So,
kudos to those of you who can challenge
old work and outdated ideas. My motto is“Never Give Up, Never Surrender”. I hope
you never do.

Dugongs andDolphins in Asia:an International
Research Story
Ellen Hines“R

esearch is easy; conservation
most decidedly is not,”George B. Schaller (1993).

Fishing boat used as a research vessel off Thailand. Photo courtesy of Ellen Hines.

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Ellen Hines Cont.

I almost did my dissertation researchmodeling habitat use and distribution foreastern Pacific gray whales off the western
coast of Vancouver Island in British
Columbia, Canada. Since the late 1980’s
my advisor, Dr. Dave Duffus, from the
Department of Geography at the Universityof Victoria, had been studying the Pacific
Coast Feeding Group grays that returned to
Clayoquot Sound, BC each summer.
That changed when I went to Thailand.
In 1999, I tagged along with another gradstudent and Dr. Phil Dearden, one of mycommittee members. With our headquarters
at the Phuket Marine Biological Center(PMBC), then part of the Thai Departmentof Fisheries, we traveled to dive sites, gauging
the effect of recreational diving on coral
reef fish assemblages. While at PMBC
however, I was immediately impressed by
the knowledge and dedication of the Thai
scientists. Committed, busy and creative,
they were so inspiring that I found myself(in one of those semi-guided moments)
approaching a very serious young womenin the Marine Endangered Species Unit andasking “if a western PhD student could get
funding, how could they contribute to yourresearch?”
While I was at PMBC, numerous young
westerners came up to the scientists, asking
to participate, to help, wanting to experience
working with marine mammals or turtles.
Most were sent away, always sweetly. What
made the difference in that I was not?
Perhaps I was older than most, or the words“PhD student, funding, or contribute”.
However, the young woman said “you can46

help me with dugongs” and gave me a pileof papers to read. That is how I began mylong friendship and many collaborations
with Kanjana Adulyanukosol, the ‘mother’ ofdugongs in Thailand.
The next day I returned, papers read, totally
intrigued, and was shown skulls, tusks, andwe talked and talked and planned. I met
others in the MESU, including Dr. Kongkiat
Kittiwatanawong, now the Director of
PBMC, even then his creative brilliance wasevident. Then I was invited to lunch (canom
jin or Chinese noodles, a PMBC favorite),and began to meet everyone, from drivers totechnicians to directors: seagrass scientists,coral, mangrove, turtle, dolphin, wetland,
everything marine, and became part of thefamily, as is common in Thai culture. There
was no turning back.
I went back to Victoria and wrote proposals.
Thanks to a dissertation fellowship from theInternational Development Research Centreof Canada, and what was to be the first grantof many that resulted in more than a decadeof support from Ocean Park Conservation
Foundation of Hong Kong, I had a project
to work on with Kanjana! Our researchwould be three-fold: Aerial surveys to assessdugong distribution and abundance along
the Andaman or western coast of Thailand,
seagrass surveys in areas where dugongs
had been seen by villagers, and interviews infishing villages along the coast.
As my labmates and advisor were painfully
aware, I had never seen a dugong, much lesstropical seagrass. But Dave and Phil had faith
in me, and their support empowered me to

BRE AK ING THE SURFACE WOMEN OF CETOLOGY

move forward. I started learning a bit of Thai
sawatdee ka (hello and goodbye), cow pat(fried rice (you’ll never starve says Phil)), korp
kun ka (thank you). In January of 2000 and
2001, with a red-haired Canadian translator, I
headed to Thailand.
After 10 days in Bangkok, permits,
permissions, etc., the Thai Department ofForestry (in charge of marine parks) helped
us access a helicopter for several days ofreconnaissance flights along the Andamancoast. There, in southern Trang province, I
saw my first group of dugongs from 1000 feet!
As soon as I landed, I called Dave Duffus,
and heard his relief and (“she saw a dugong!”)
cheers from my labmates. These flights
enabled us to identify six areas within whichto concentrate more detailed aerial andseagrass surveys, and interviews.
Kanjana then connected me with Nimit
Sittirod, a microlite pilot. We created a
strip transect methodology, using Distancesoftware and a dugong-sized piece of woodfor strip width at 150 meters in altitude (seeHines et al 2005a), and set off down the coast.
Starting in Trang province, one of the firstsights that first survey day from the air wasa carcass tied to a mooring. Local wildlife
officers helped me to tow it in, we saw thatthe head and the armpits (where the nipples
are in a dugong) had been removed. They
told me that the villagers wanted the tusks
and the nipples for medicine (Adulyanokosol
et al 2010). We froze the carcass and sent it to
Phuket Marine Biological Center, to Kanjana,
for a necropsy. Was this bycatch or directcatch? We could not tell.

The surveys were going well, we saw
many dugongs, surveyed seagrass, andstarted interviews. Then I found anotherstranded dugong. Kanjana and her teamcame down, conducted the necropsy andfound the marks of a fishing net aroundthe animal’s peduncle, definitely a caseof bycatch. I started to learn more about
bycatch and other issues affecting artisanal
fishermen during the interviews withthese local men and women. Commercial
trawlers were coming too close to shore,
ignoring the 3km government restriction.
The trawling gear was destroying theseagrass, damaging small-scale fishingnets and creating a sometimes violent
conflict. For example, a village-sponsoredpatrol boat named the Golden Dugong was
fire-bombed at night. My respondents wereasking me, how my data would help, how
my project would help?
As a consequence, my project evolved fromhow I had originally envisioned it. It had
become clearer to me that I had to consider
not only ecology but also conservation ina more direct way than I had anticipated.
This sounds obvious now. In my masters
project on the California spotted owl ina southern California National Forest,
also a specialized forager with strict
habitat requirements, I was aware of andwrote about the issues that endangered
the animal. However, this research was ageographic information systems (GIS)-basedrisk assessment (still a theme of my work)of how modeling errors from low resolution
satellite imagery were critical in habitat
depiction (Hines et al 2005b). There was an
obvious distance inherent in this project. I
was mostly behind a computer.
Here, learning about small-scale fishers
in remote coastal Thailand from directly
speaking to the fishermen, I was challenged.
What difference would my work makein either their lives and conflicts, or theconservation of the dugong? I went back to
Bangkok and consulted with Phil Dearden,
as well as Drs. Dachanee Emphandhu andNoppawan Tanakanjana from Kasetsart
University. We rewrote the interviews to
ask more about the issues, opinions andvalues of the respondents. My dissertationquestion expanded to encompass theseissues and became more interdisciplinary(Hines 2001; Hines et al 2005c; Hines 2012).
In my dissertation chapters, I explored
examples of how scientists have contributed
to conservation efforts and the fine line
between science and activism. There
have been wonderful examples in marine

mammal science: John Reynolds, Andy
Read, Barbara Taylor. As a geographer, I had
the opportunity to expand and train further
into the social sciences and found myself
fascinated with the cultures and economies
of small-scale fishers.
After I completed two years of fieldworkand my PhD, I was hired as a tenure trackprofessor in the geography department at
San Francisco State University. Luckily,
they were specifically looking for anenvironmental GIS position in marine
science. I was afraid I would not see
Kanjana or Thailand again. However, inJanuary of 2002, Brian Smith invited me
to co-teach a course in marine mammal
scientific techniques back at the Phuket
Marine Biological Center! This was awonderful course for 25 students fromthroughout Asia. Here I reconnectedwith Kanjana and my Thai colleagues
and met many future collaborators andfriends. Three of these attendees havereceived their PhD’s since: Dipani Sutaria,
Jo Marie Acebes (who just completed
a Fulbright Fellowship in my lab), andPetch Manopawitr (in 2019 with my coadviser Phil Dearden and myself on his
committee).
The course also led to Kanjana and myself
being funded in 2002 and 2004 (World
Wildlife Fund and Ocean Park) to dointerviews and aerial surveys for dugongs in
Cambodia and Vietnam (Hines et al 2008).
Then in 2002, I received a call from Wildlife
Fund Thailand (WFT), an NGO foundedby the then Queen of Thailand. They had
heard of several dugongs being stranded
along the eastern Gulf Coast of Thailand
and wondered if I was interested in researchusing the techniques developed for the
Andaman Coast.
With WFT sponsorship and funding from
Ocean Park in 2003, 2004, and 2005, Kanjana
and I flew transects and, with her team ofyoung Thai scientists, conducted interviews
along the coasts of Rayong, Chanthaburi andTrat provinces. In 2003, with Nimit and ourtrusty microlite, we found a small populationof dugongs, and, we began to see Irrawaddy
dolphins as well. In 2004 and 2005, westarted to see the dolphins seemingly racing
each other through the water column,
sometimes up to 30 or more animals
distributed vertically in the water!

Top: Ellen in a Thai classroom with local students
learning about marine conservation.
Photo by Isabelle Groc.
Middle: Map of aerial survey location off the Andaman
Coast of Thailand (Hines et al., 2005).
Bottom: Kanjana Adulyanukosol and Ellen in the field.
Photos courtesy of Ellen Hines.
Page 46: A mating herd of Irrawady dolphins.
Photo by Laura Morse.

The tsunami of December 2004 was ahorrible disaster in Thailand, and our 2005
field season was cut short by strange weather
and the need for my Thai colleagues to
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Left: Satako with her hydrophone.
Photo courtesy of Ellen Hines.
Right: Ellen with Anouk on the bow.
Photo by Isabelle Groc.
Page 49: Mating herd of
Irrawady dolphins.
Photo courtesy of Ellen Hines.

Ellen Hines Cont.

return to Phuket to assist with recovery. Soon
afterwards, Kanjana became the Directorof the Marine Endangered Species Unit at
PMBC, and started her PhD studies at the
University of the Ryukus in Japan on dugong
ecology in Thailand, so she was quite busy.
I too became wrapped up in my local workaround San Francisco.
In 2007, I was able to put together, with thesupport of Ocean Park, a research cruise
through the Myeik Archipelago of Myanmar.
During the 2002 PMBC course, I had met
Mya Tha Thun, a senior fisheries officer(now retired). Through him, I was able toget permits and visas for a crew of scientists
to put together a training for local scientists
in dugong research, seagrass mapping, andgenetic sampling. Leslee Parr, a geneticist
from San Jose State University, Donna
Kwan, a dugong scientist from Australia,
and Alyssa Novak, a seagrass scientist fromthe University of New Hampshire camealong. We did not see any dugongs, butmapped seagrass and had sightings of Asianbottlenose dolphins, false killer whales,
Indo-Pacific humpback dolphins and Brydes
whales.
I was also very interested in interviewing
people from a local Indigenous group,
the Moken, or the drowned ones, or seagypsies. The Moken are nomads who havebeen living in these islands for at least
two centuries. They live in small boats, orkabangs, that they regard as living spiritual
guides, through the dry season, and travel inflotillas throughout the Archipelago. During
the rainy season, they live in shacks along
the shore. In our three weeks of research, wewere able to complete quite a few interviews,
as luckily, our Captain spoke the Moken
dialects (a mixture of Malaysia, Melanesian,48& Burmese). The Moken believe that thespirits of the sea bring animals to them tohunt, so they will eat marine mammals as
they encounter them. However, they dobelieve that when a boat sinks, a dolphin will
come and save them. Respondents in islands
toward the south of the Archipelago (toward
Thailand) told a story that when dolphins getolder, they go into the seagrass and turn into
dugongs; when a dugong gets older, it goes
into the jungle and turns into a pig (Hines etal 2007; Hines et al 2012a).
In 2008 and 2009, Kanjana and I decided to
conduct ship-based surveys on Irrawaddy
dolphins along the eastern Gulf Coast of
Thailand and yet again received support
from Ocean Park. However, she was stillquite busy. So I began to work with some ofher colleagues from the new agency formed
for Thai marine research, the Departmentof Marine and Coastal Resources: Mr.
Somchai Mananansap, a senior marine
scientist, and a young scientist fresh out of
her Masters in Marine Science at Kasetsart,
Chalatip Junchompoo (Ong). They brought
along a wonderful crew of Thai scientists
and technicians. I was incredibly lucky thatAnouk Ilangakoon, who I had initially met in
the 2002 class, wanted to come along. Anouk
did not need that class! She has been working
on marine mammals in Sri Lanka and muchof Asia since the 1990’s and in 2001 cameout with the first comprehensive volume
on Whales and Dolphins in Sri Lanka(Ilangakoon 2001). She is one of the mostaccomplished and professional scientists I
know. I had worked with Anouk and Dipani
Sutaria in 2008 to raise funds for interviews
about dugongs along the Gulf of Mannar in
Sri Lanka and India. The interviews werebased on those I had put together for my

BRE AK ING THE SURFACE WOMEN OF CETOLOGY

original research in Thailand. They did anamazing job of adapting those interviews toin-country conditions and cultures and led
a paper that came out in Marine Mammal
Science (Ilangakoon et al 2008).
A young PhD student from Malaysia
answered an inquiry for a research assistant,once again a tremendous stroke of luck!
Louisa Ponnampalam joined the crew withall of her experience from her PhD researchin Oman and helped make those long hot
surveys fun. We discovered that our racing
Irrawaddy’s were actually mating herds andLouisa led a paper documenting that andother behaviors (Ponnampalam et al 2013).
The next few years, I largely worked
locally with my students. Then I noticed
a call for proposals from the Australian
Indo-Pacific Cetacean Research andConservation Fund. Thanks to this grant
and yes, support from Ocean Park, I had
enough funds for three more years of
research starting in 2012! Somchai cameback, and now Ong took a leadershiprole, bringing a wonderful group of Thai
scientists. Anouk and Louisa returned!
Also, in 2012, two amazing Vietnamesescientists joined us: Professor Duc
Hoang Minh and his student, Long
Vu. These two men were incredible
naturalists and wildlife photographers.
Long soaked up all the methods eagerly,
returning each year, and starting his
own research and NGO in Vietnam(Center for Biodiversity Conservation andEndangered Species, cbes.vn), in turn
training young Vietnamese scientists
and working to spread the word aboutmarine conservation. Cindy Peter, from
Sarawak, Malaysia, fresh from her surveys
of Irrawaddy’s in Kuching Bay joinedus. Satoko Kimura, then a postdoc now
a professor at the University of Kyoto,
joined us and taught us how to do acoustic
surveys. Isabelle Groc, a Canadian wildlife
photographer, came along to document ourwork. Laura Morse, then at NOAA camealong to lend a hand. Martha Delaney, amarine mammal vet from the Universityof Washington joined us one year. Suwat
Jutapret, just finishing his dissertation on
humpback dolphins in the western Gulfof Thailand joined us as well. A couple ofmy grad students, Andrea Dransfield andJennifer McGowan came along. Justine
Jackson-Ricketts, from Dan Costa’s lab
in Santa Cruz, made our project into her
doctoral dissertation (Jackson-Ricketts
2016; Jackson-Ricketts et al 2018, 2020,
and in process). Tara Whitty, doing her
dissertation at Scripps Institute, used
our research area for one of her fieldsites(Whitty 2014). We had an amazing group…
at one point, ten nationalities!
We concentrated our work for these three
years in Trat (Hines et al 2015a), the province
at the extreme eastern coast of Thailand,
abutting the Cambodian border. Our
surveys were successful and as the Thai’ssay, sanuk, or fun. I always had my birthday
in the field, and always was surprised by
the crew. For one celebration, Justine hadbrought a custom-knit dugong hat!

I am still going back. In 2013, Louisa
and I and a whole crew put together the
3rd SEAMAM meeting in Langkawi,
Malaysia (Hines et al 2015b). We all became
SEAMAMA’s, forming a family of support
and communication ever growing as moreyoung scientists in Asia become interested
in marine mammals.
In 2017-2018, a team of us worked together
to create a Bycatch Risk Assessment (ByRA)
tool to assess the spatio/temporal risk ofmarine mammal bycatch (Hines et al 2020;
Verutes et al In Press). Visit our website with
Truong Anh To’s wonderful graphics:
cons.scienceontheweb.net/bycatch.
We all traveled together to our field sites inThailand, peninsular Malaysia, Sarawak
Malaysia and southern Vietnam, and I
was so proud to see everyone’s name on
our letter to Science (Johnson et al 2017)about how difficult it will be for data-poor
countries to address bycatch requirementsof the U.S. Marine Mammal Protection
Act. That paper is the result of manyfascinating discussions.
The current SEAMAMA WhatsApp grouphas 53 participants from India to Papua
New Guinea, and we are planning the
4th SEAMAM meeting in Kalimantan,
Indonesia. You may have seen some of thewonderful plenaries at the World Marine

Mammal Conference in Barcelona: Louisa,
now a Pew Fellow and the Director of
MareCet, a Malaysian NGO (marecet.org),
Danielle Kreb, and Dipani Sutaria.
The summer of 2019 I was honored to
become a Fulbright Fellow, awarded an
ASEAN research grant to work with Louisa
and her crew in the field in northwestern
Malaysia, and with Long in Vietnam to
explore whale temples (another long story)!
Pretty much the whole lot of us gatheredin Ho Chi Minh City the beginning ofJune for Long’s wedding to his long-time
partner. In September, I went to visit
Ong in Thailand. Ong is now a motherand the Director of one of DMCR’s
research stations. She put together a ByRA
workshop in Phuket, at PMBC, where
it all began. I missed Kanjana so much,
she left us in 2015 (Hines et al 2015c). Dr.
Kongkiat, the busy Director, went out of
his way to welcome me and acknowledge
my dedication to marine mammals in
Thailand. I met some old friends, and juststarting, dedicated young scientists.
In an edited volume on Sirenian
Conservation that I put together with thehelp of colleagues from all over the globe(Hines et al 2012b), a group of us wrote achapter on the role of scientists in developing
countries. We discuss the responsibilities of
supporting and training, of realizing that “…
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Left: Ellen in the field.
Photo by Isabelle Groc.
Right: Ellen with the researchteam in 2012.
Photo courtesy of Ellen Hines.

Ellen Hines Cont.

cultural attitudes, languages…philosophies,
religions, and other belief systems are often
relevant and sometimes critical in wildlife
conservation, and must not be ignored”(Hines et al 2012c, pg 244).
There is so much we don’t know aboutmarine mammals around the world. So
many populations that we have scarce, if
any knowledge of, are already or will soon
be gone. I was able to find funding to keep
returning, to show respect, to become
involved. This kind of international funding
is critical and growing ever more scarce.
I urge the American Cetacean Society,
the Society for Marine Mammalogy, theInternational Whaling Commission, as wellas national and international NGO’s like
Ocean Park to continue to increase theirefforts to prioritize the importance of theexchange of scientists, and the support oflocal research for global marine mammalconservation.
Reaching out beyond familiar comfort
and culture is scary but rewarding. My
career has been incredible. I have one
graduate student who is working with
Ong and DMCR on a habitat distribution
model for Bryde’s whales in the northern
Gulf of Thailand for her thesis; the second
generation. We are and should be a global
community, yes a family of scientists andinternational citizens, working together
towards supporting the equity of global
scientists, and therefore the knowledge andconservation of the animals we hold dear.
Hines, E. 2001. Conservation of the Dugong (Dugong
dugon) along the Andaman Coast of Thailand: An
Example of the Integration of Conservation and Biology
in Endangered Species Research. Doctoral Dissertation,
University of Victoria, BC, Canada.
Hines, E., Adulyanukosol, K., and D. A. Duffus. 2005a.
Dugong abundance along the Andaman coast of
Thailand. Marine Mammal Science 21:3:536-549.

50

Hines, E., Franklin, J., and J. Stephenson. 2005b. Usinga geographic information system to estimate digital
map error and its effects on habitat delineation for
the California spotted owl in southern California.
Transactions in GIS. 9(4): 541-559.
Hines, E., Adulyanukosol, K., Duffus, D. A., and
P. Dearden. 2005c. Community perspectives andconservation needs for dugongs along the Andamancoast of Thailand. Environmental Management 36(5):654-664.
Hines, E., Than Tun, M., Parr, L, Kwan, D., and A.
Novak. 2007. Dugongs (Dugong dugon) along the Myeik
Archipelago of Myanmar. Final report to Ocean Park
Conservation Foundation, Hong Kong.
Hines, E., Adulyanukosol, K., Somany, P., Sam Ath,
L., Cox, N., Boonyanate, P., and N.X. Hoa. 2008.
Community interviews to assess conservation needs ofthe dugong (Dugong dugon) in Cambodia & Phu Quoc,
Vietnam. Oryx 42(1): 113-121.
Hines, E. 2012b. A framework for sirenian science andconservation in developing countries. In Sirenian
Conservation: Issues and Strategies in Developing
Countries. Hines, E., Reynolds, J., Mignucci-Giannoni,A, Aragones, L.V., and M. Marmontel, Editors. The
University Press of Florida. Pages 246-253.
Hines, E. et al. 2012a. Dugongs in Asia. In Sirenian
Conservation: Issues and Strategies in Developing
Countries. Hines, E., Reynolds, J., Mignucci-Giannoni,A, Aragones, L.V., and M. Marmontel, Editors. The
University Press of Florida. Pages 58-76.
Hines, E., Reynolds, J., Mignucci-Giannoni, A, Aragones,
L.V., and M. Marmontel. 2012b. Sirenian Conservation:
Issues and Strategies in Developing Countries. Edited
Volume. The University Press of Florida.
Hines, E., Domning, D., Aragones, L, Marmontel, M.,
Mignucci-Giannoni, A.A, and J. Reynolds. 2012c. The
role of scientists in sirenian conservation in developing
countries. In Sirenian Conservation: Issues andStrategies in Developing Countries. Hines, E., Reynolds,J., Mignucci-Giannoni, A, Aragones, L.V., and M.
Marmontel, Editors. The University Press of Florida.
Pages 243-245.
Hines, E., Strindberg, S., Junchumpoo, C.,
Ponnampalam, L, Ilangakoon, A., and J. JacksonRicketts. 2015a. Line transect estimates of Irrawaddy
dolphin abundance along the eastern Gulf ofThailand. Frontiers in Marine Science doi: 10.3389/
fmars.2015.00063
Hines, E., Ponnampalam, L.S., Hisne, F.I.J, Whitty,
T.S., Jackson-Ricketts, J., Kuit, S.H, and J.M. Acebes.
2015b. Report of the 3rd Southeast Asian Marine
Mammal Symposium (SEAMAM III) 2015. Langkawi
Island, Malaysia, 4-10 March 2013. Convention on
Migratory Species of Wild Animals (CMS), United
Nations Environment Program. http://www.cms.int/

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en/publication/report-third-southeast-asian-marinemammals-symposium-seamam-iii
Hines, E., et al. 2015c. In Memoriam, Kanjana
Adulyanukosol. Marine Mammal Science DOI: 10.1111/
mms.12265
Hines, EM, Johnson, A., Ponnampalam, L., Peter, C.,
Junchompoo, C., Vu, L., Thien, H., Caillat, M., andVerutes, C. (2020) Getting to the Bottom of Bycatch: A
GIS-based toolbox to assess the risk of marine mammal
bycatch. Endangered Species Research: https://doi.
org/10.3354/esr01037
Ilangakoon, A. 2001. Whales and dolphins Sri Lanka.
WHT Publications Ltd. ISBN: 955-9114-28-X.
Ilangakoon, A. Sutaria, D., Hines, E., and R. Raghavan.
2008. Historical status and future prospects for dugongs(Dugong dugon) in the Gulf of Mannar, based oninterview surveys. Marine Mammal Science 24(3):704-710.
Jackson-Ricketts, J. 2016. Diet, Life Events, Habitat,
and Conservation of Irrawaddy Dolphins (Orcaellabrevirostris) in the Gulf of Thailand, Dissertation,
University of California at Santa Cruz, CA, USA
Jackson-Ricketts, J., Junchompoo, C., Hines, EM, Hazen,
E, Ponnampalam, L, Ilangakoon, A, Monanunsap, S.
(2020) Habitat modeling of Irrawaddy dolphins (Orcellabrevirostris) in the eastern Gulf of Thailand. Ecology
and Evolution: https://doi.org/10.1002/ece3.6023
Jackson-Ricketts, J., Ruiz-Cooley, R.I., Junchompoo,
C., Thongsukdee, S., Intongkham, A., Ninwat, S.,
Kittiwattanawong, K., Hines, E.M., and D. P. Costa.
(2018) Diet and Life History of Irrawaddy Dolphins(Orcaella brevirostris) in the Gulf of Thailand and theAndaman Sea. Marine Mammal Science https://doi.
org/10.1111/mms.12547
Johnson, AF, Caillat, M., Verutes, GM, Peter, C.,
Junchumpoo, C., Long, V., Ponnampalam, LS., Lewison,
RL., and EM Hines. (2017) Poor fisheries struggle with
U.S. import rule. Science, 355: 1031.
Ponnampalam, L., Hines, E., Mananansap, S.,
Ilangakoon, A., Junchompoo, C., Adulyanukosol, A., and
L. J. Morse. 2013. Behavioral observations on Irrawaddy
dolphins (Orcaella brevirostris) in Trat Province, Eastern
Gulf of Thailand. Aquatic Mammals 39(4): 401-409.
Verutes, GM, Johnson, AF, Caillat, M, Ponnampalam,LS, Peter, C, Vu, L, Junchompoo, C, Lewison, RL, andHines, EM. Using GIS and stakeholder involvement toinnovate marine mammal bycatch risk assessment indata-limited fisheries. In Press: PLoS ONE.
Whitty, T. 2014. Mapping Conservation Scapes of Smallscale Cetaceans and Small-scale fisheries: Irrawaddy
dolphins in SE Asia, Dissertation, Scripps Institute of
Oceanography, San Diego, CA USA.

Alison tagging a humpback whale. Photo by Ari Friedlaender. NMFS Permit 808–1735, ACAP Number 2009-014, and Duke IACUC Number A041-09-02.

Making choices
and finding balance
as a marine mammal
scientist and parent I

Alison Stimpert

was honored to be invited
to contribute to this issueof Whalewatcher, but I will
admit that I have struggled
in writing this article. I
procrastinated until the lastminute, then wrote something
I wasn’t happy with, and thenprocrastinated through twomore COVID-19 pandemicrelated delays, and here I am

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Alison Stimpert Cont.

again, right before it’s due, wondering what
to write. I think part of my struggle wasthat this issue covers personal topics, andI am a pretty private person. However, I
also wasn’t sure I was the right person tocontribute. Do I have imposter syndrome
about being a woman in science? I neverreally thought much about gender issues inscience toward the beginning of my career.
I received a lot of support at each stage ofmy education and training, with helpful
and encouraging mentors who did notseem to discriminate based on gender. I did
frequently end up working with groups of
mostly men, especially in the field, but thatnever bothered me. Looking back, I canremember times where I felt I was fading
into the background (during research
discussions, for example), but I connectedthat more to my personality than mygender. Perhaps it was some of both.
Regardless, my thinking and activism on
this topic has increased exponentially sincehaving my son. Where I have felt greater
challenges is in being a parent and a parttime worker, while trying to maintain myfoothold in an academic culture where theexpectation is often long workdays andessentially round-the-clock availability
because of the pervasiveness of technology
and constant communication. Technically,
these challenges should not be limited to
women, but should be felt by any parents,
as well as others who may not work fulltime due to other commitments outside

52of work. However, I do believe women are
harder hit, at least in relation to having
children, because of the initial physicaldemands of childbirth and breastfeeding.

My Career andFamily PathI spent several years volunteering, working,and doing lots of fieldwork and travel in
my field before beginning graduate school.
This included wildlife rehabilitation,
photo-ID of dolphins in the Bahamas,
cognition research and training withdolphins in Hawaii, small boat-based
humpback whale behavioral research in
Maui, aerial surveys of right whales in the
Northwest Atlantic, and a handful of large
vessel cruises in various locations. During
graduate school I studied humpback whale
acoustic behavior at the University of
Hawai`i at Mānoa. My project used soundand movement tags (DTAGs) to attempt tocorrelate sound production with fine-scale
behavior of humpbacks when foraging,
and also when in competitive groups on
their breeding grounds in Maui. I assumed,
based on the model I had seen before whenassisting with tagging projects, becauseof my small frame, and a little becauseof my gender, that I would not be the one
deploying the tags. However, when I got
to Maui, luckily the folks (men) I wasworking with did not make such genderbiased assumptions. We practiced, tested,developed a method, and then successfully
deployed many tags on adult humpbacks

BRE AK ING THE SURFACE WOMEN OF CETOLOGY

in the thick of competition in Maui, withme as the tagger, and it went just fine. My
experience during my PhD helped me
secure a position on a humpback foraging
ecology project in the Antarctic withDuke University, where I helped manage
the tagging portion of the project. At thetime, I was one of few women deploying
tags, and I felt both lucky and proudof what I had accomplished (though I
quickly realized that the meat of thescience happened afterwards, and getting
involved with the details of analysis was onsome level as exciting as the tagging). My
postdoctoral positions, affiliated with Duke
University and the Naval Postgraduate
School, continued to be filled with exciting
fieldwork, continuing the Antarctic project
as well as studying the effects of naval
sonar on cetaceans in Southern California.
I then moved to a soft-money Research
Faculty position at Moss Landing Marine
Laboratories in California, where I wasable to develop my own research projects
and begin taking graduate students.
Partially due to this transient lifestyle andexpectations to be available anytime totake advantage of all field opportunities,
I did not meet my partner until mylife became a little more stable after I
completed my PhD, and I did not have
my son until after I had completed mypost-docs. My partner’s and my plan,
initially, was to have him be a stay-athome father and I would go back to work

after 3 months. But, work circumstanceschanged, which turned out to be a goodthing, because I quickly realized that 3months was way earlier than I was readyto return to work. Luckily, my employer
was understanding, allowing me to return
part-time, but working largely from home
to maximize my time with my son, withthe added benefit that I could continue
to breastfeed rather than pump. Even as
breastfeeding became less of an issue, I
knew I still wanted the time with my son,and as of four years later I have continued
on in my soft-money position at part time.
This is despite the massive challengethat it has been to maintain soft-money
cash flow, complete administrative tasks,
mentor students, and do research, in thehours that I manage to piecemeal together
when my son is in some form of childcare
or sleeping. Enter a global pandemic, when
there is no such thing as childcare, andany work-related productivity I did have
has disintegrated (sacrificed sleep and agenerous partner have been allowing me

to hang on). The silver lining is getting tospend even more time with my son, and tolearn even more about his life, school, anddevelopment. Thoughts of leaving scienceto focus on family resurface.

Humpback whale. NMFS Permit 20430.
Photo by Alison Stimpert.
Page 52: Alison with her son.
Photo courtesy of Alison Stimpert.

However, I don’t feel that I could easily
step back much further from my careerand still be able to return when my sonis older. Science is a field that moves at afast pace, making it hard to keep up evenwhen keeping a foot in the door. The otherreason I don’t completely step back is that
I do still love what I do. I feel lucky to bein such an interesting career, and despite
the challenges, to have the opportunity tocontinue to break down barriers for parent
scientists, building upon the efforts of those
who came before us. As a young scientist in
the field, I had very few female mentors, andI don’t remember seeing any of them withchildren. Now, more and more women of
my “scientific cohort” are having kids, andthere are initiatives and support programs
within the sciences to support parents in
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Alison Stimpert Cont.

several different ways. I have put many of
my efforts into maintaining and expanding
these programs.
I have particularly enjoyed working with
scientific societies to change the cultureof work-life balance from within. I haveco-organized workshops and co-written
articles (Hooker et al, 2017; Neilsen andStimpert, in press) , started support
groups, helped develop conference parent/
mother rooms, and raised and distributed
conference funding to help those withdependent care obligations, and all ofthese initiatives are becoming more
and more common, both at academic
conferences and within institutions. Thisis very encouraging, and I hope that asthe culture becomes more accepting ofvarying schedules, more scientists will feel
supported to start a family, or devote timeto alternate pursuits, without worrying
about giving up on their careers. I believe
this will make us all more well-rounded
and improve the quality of our science,as well as creating a much more equallandscape that will be the model for future
generations.

General Advice

Top: Alison Stimpert in the field.
Photo courtesy of Alison Stimpert.
Bottom: Humpback whale breaching,
NOAA Permit 1000-1617.
Photo by Alison Stimpert.

The biggest thing that is important tokeep in mind is that everyone’s situation
is different, and everyone has their own
personal challenges. During this journey
I have met many women, with kids andwithout, happy and not in both thosesituations. Some women wait to havechildren until their careers are wellestablished, but this strategy runs the riskof fertility issues as women age – an issue
that is often marginalized in the current
culture of promoting women’s careers.
Some women have children early on, but it
may be harder to return to science without
having published, created a network ofcolleagues, and gained field and analysis
skills. As many have said, there may not
be a “good time” to have a family, so myadvice is to just go for it, regardless of
where you are in your career.
Also, remember that it is hard to predict
how you will feel about time balance
between work, kid(s), and self-care until
you actually have the kid(s). Many speakof passion as the fuel for persisting
against adversity, and our field is full ofpeople with amazing passion for marine
mammals and marine mammal science.
When you discover another passion,

54

BRE AK ING THE SURFACE WOMEN OF CETOLOGY

however, it can be difficult to merge thetwo. Give yourself credit, accept yourfeelings, and allow yourself to change theplan. Some women completely leave theircareer after having children, while someget back to it full time as soon as physicallypossible. I won’t pretend to understand or
predict anyone’s concerns, but I will saywhat is important to me is to accept myown feelings on my priorities. Despite thesocietal pressure that I feel to perform andbe an example and do “all the things” as awoman in science, I choose to scale backmy responsibilities and say no to thingsin order to preserve time to spend withmy family and give my son what I think isbest for him in terms of care and parent
presence and engagement. This choicemakes me feel I am being the best I can be,
and others may come to that best versionof themselves through different strategies.
I also try to be transparent with mycolleagues about the reasons that I do this,and my resulting schedule and availability.
I have missed career opportunities, buthave gained so many more wonderfulexperiences in raising my son that there isno question to me that it has been worth it.
As a mentor, I also encourage my students
to maintain their own work-life harmony
through setting appropriate boundaries -to be productive while working, but to also
take the time they need for other things as
they come.
Hooker, S., Simmons, S., Stimpert, A., McDonald,B. 2017. Equity and Career-Life Balance in Marine
Mammal Science? Marine Mammal Science 33(3): 955965. doi: 10.1111/mms.12407
Neilsen, T. and Stimpert, A.K. in press. Workparenting harmony. Acoustics Today.

Hoistyour sailwhen
the windis fair
Yoko MitaniW

hen I was in elementary
school, I loved the “Doctor
Dolittle series” and wanted
to be a veterinarian. But in junior highschool home economics class, I wasn’t very
good at sewing. So I thought, “With suchclumsiness, I can’t operate on a dog or acat!”. Then, I decided that I wanted to giveup on becoming a veterinarian and becomea person who studies animals.
About the same time, I watched a nature
TV show about humpback whale migration
and wondered why they travel such a long
distance and I decided to study whales. At
that time, “researchers studying free-living
whales” on TV or in books were people
from abroad. In Japan, I didn’t know which
university I could study whales and theInternet wasn’t well developed. So I readthe page of the translator for the book
“Whales and Dolphins” (written by Martin,
A. R. and translated by Kasuya, T., 1991)
and found that two translators graduatedfrom Kyoto University, so I decided to go
to Kyoto University. When I was studying
for the university entrance examination,

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sea turtles using bio-logging and chemical
tracers, so I joined their lab. I wanted toattach satellite tags to cetaceans, but there
was no project in the lab at that time that
conducted such an expensive study. I
couldn’t even study living whales for mygraduation research. But I was told that I
could analyze dolphin teeth because they
were available. A senior student was doing
trace element analysis of fish otoliths, so
I used the same analytical instrument
to analyze the teeth of dolphins and fur
seals. In my master’s research, I changed
the research topic. An alumnus of our lab
was working at the Institute of Cetacean
Research and had proposed a joint research
project to a post-doc in our lab, who wasconducting stable isotope analysis of fish,
and we decided to conduct stable isotope
analysis on minke whale baleen plates.
These analytical techniques are alsoutilized in my current research.
There was no one in the same laboratory
who was studying marine mammals,
but there was Masanori Shinohara, who
was studying wild dolphin behavior in
the Graduate School of Science, and we
decided to hold a study group on marine
mammals with the other students,
Tadamichi Morisaka, Takushi Kishida, andso on. I was able to participate in their wild
dolphin fieldwork, gaining experience andinteracting with cetacean researchers fromother universities to expand my network.
They are still very good mentors, friends,
and collaborators today.

Yoko Mitani Cont.

the International Whaling Commission(IWC) was held in Kyoto in 1993. I read thenewspaper and realized that whaling wascriticized. From this, I was able to recognize
the difference in the values of whales andit keeps me thinking about the meaning ofstudying whales in Japan.
Let’s go back to when I started university. I
was admitted to the School of Agriculture,
the Department of Fishery Science, Kyoto
University. At that time, there were no
professors working with marine mammals
at Kyoto University, and there were no
lectures on marine mammals. There was awelcome party for new students and when
I said I wanted to study whales, the seniors

56

said, “Every few years, there’s a student
who wants to study dolphins (although
they can’t)”. However, I’m an optimistic
person, and I don’t give up when people
tell me to, but rather I don’t give up until
I’ve done it myself and seen the results. So
I was wondering if there was something I
could do. But at the same time, I knew that
it would be difficult to become a marine
mammal researcher, so I decided to becomea high school teacher if I couldn’t get an
academic position, and I got my high school
teaching license.
Then I met Professor Wataru Sakamoto,and Assistant Professor Nobuaki Arai,
whose lab studied migrations of fish and

BRE AK ING THE SURFACE WOMEN OF CETOLOGY

I’ve always wanted to study whale
migration, but until my master’s I could
only do research on analyzing part of the
body from dead individuals (I had neverseen living minke whales). My advisor
introduced me to Professor Yasuhiko
Naito at the National Institute of Polar
Research, and I entered the Department of
Polar Science, the Graduate University for
Advanced Studies. Although the research
was not on a whale, I had the opportunity to
put a data logger on a free-ranging Weddell
seal in Antarctica. At McMurdo Station,
Antarctica, I worked with a team from the
University of Minnesota. It made me realize
how difficult it is to communicate in English
and how important it is to communicate.
Also, since it was the first experience to do
my own fieldwork, I was keenly aware of
my lack of preparation to conduct researchin the field (especially in Antarctica) in
physical and mental aspects. Students
wishing to pursue marine mammal

research are encouraged to improve theirEnglish language skills and gain plenty offield research experience.
With the strong cooperation of the team,
especially the team leader, Michael
Cameron and my supervisor, Katsufumi
Sato, I was able to get great data. Dataloggers can record the behavior of seals,
which cannot be tracked by the humaneye. But we have to translate the numbersrecorded by the data loggers into seal
behavior. Although it was very difficult, it
was very interesting and I was hooked.
At that time, bio-logging research wasdeveloping with various technologies,
and the first International Bio-logging
Symposium was held in Tokyo. During
the conference, I was exposed to the mostadvanced research in the world, and as
one of the hosts, I was able to interact
with researchers from all over the world,
expanding my world even further. This gaveme the opportunity to do a postdoctoral
fellowship in Professor Davis’ lab at Texas
A&M University, where I participated in
the sea otter survey. And I also joined thenorthern elephant seal survey conducted by
Costa Lab, UCSC.
The one year and nine months of American
life has had a profound impact on mysubsequent research life, one of which is
the way I think about gender roles. My
major when I was a student was fisheries
and polar science, and in this field, mostof the professors and researchers aroundme, both as a student and now, are “malefield workers”. In particular, at the National
Institute of Polar Research, most of themwere field workers in Antarctica for a long
period of time, and I often heard stories ofmale field workers, such as “My child has
been born while I was in Antarctica, andfinally met him after he was born,” or “I saw
my baby for the first time in a year, and hecried”. At the time, all I could think of was
how hard it was to be in the field for so long,
but I never thought that it would be possible
with a wife who spent so much energy andtime raising her children when her husband
was away. During the 20-odd years that I
grew up in Japanese society, the idea that“women should raise children” may havebeen a common belief, and I probably neverquestioned it.
In the United States, however, it was veryrefreshing to see a male graduate studentwith a sleepy look on his face saying,“Yesterday, my child was crying so muchat night”. This is because I had neverheard men talk about the “hardships ofchild-rearing” in Japan (maybe there wasa culture of embarrassment to talk aboutsuch hardships to others?). There were also
students who brought their kids to the lab
because their wives were working, students
who left the lab early to pick them up fromkindergarten, and postdoctoral fellows
who came to the lab early in the morningand left early in the evening in order tohave dinner with their families. I think that
it was great to meet men who “do” childrearing, rather than men who “support”
child-rearing before I had children (mostof the Japanese husbands at that time were
“supporting” their wives, who take careof children mainly, rather than taking theinitiative).
After I returned to Japan, I had a child andwas able to get a job at Hokkaido University.
Later, I gave birth to two more children
and raised them, while simultaneously
establishing myself in the field, and I now
study marine mammal migration as I had
envisioned as a high school student. There
were times when I felt disadvantaged bybeing a woman, such as not being able toparticipate in a survey because the ship’s
cabin was only available for men, or being
told by an elderly male professor, “how I
pity your baby, who is so small but left at
daycare!”. But it wasn’t my fault, there weremany things I couldn’t help. I think that’s
the way it is. On the contrary, with thetrend of the era of more equal treatment of
women, such as affirmative action, it waspossible for me to get a job. In addition, thesmall number of female field workers gaveme the advantage of being immediately
recognizable to local people in the field,
therefore, it was advantageous to be awoman in some aspects.

Yoko placing a data logger on a Weddell seal at
McMurdo Station, Antarctica.
Page 55: Yoko during an elephant seal survey with
the Costa Lab, University of California-Santa Cruz.
Page 56: Yoko during cetacean sighting survey fromT/S Oshoro-maru, Hokkaido University.
Photos courtesy of Yoko Mitani.

My dream didn’t come true right away.
There were many things that didn’t go as
expected, but I was able to continue because
I love marine mammal research, and thepeople around me have helped me a lot. It’s
all been about making connections, andI’ve been able to seize opportunities at theright time, and that’s been my path so far. I
think that women researchers may stumble
at various stages and in various situations.
But we can change it in many ways, likeremoving a pebble, so that the next person
who comes in doesn’t stumble. There aretimes when there is a headwind... But hoist
our sail when the wind is fair and move on!

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58

BRE AK ING THE SURFACE WOMEN OF CETOLOGYAlisa touches a curious Baja graywhale in San Ignacio Lagoon, March
2014. She has made over a dozen
trips to Baja, usually as trip naturalist.
Photo by Shane Keena.

Bridging
Cetacean Research
to the Public–Through Education
and Citizen Science

Alisa Schulman-JanigerI

have always been fascinated by animals
and their behaviors - and strongly
drawn to the sea. I first waddled into
the ocean at 18-months-old: screamed withdelight, and refused to leave! My parents
quickly signed me up for swimming lessons;
I later became a certified swim instructor
and lifeguard. I spent hours examining
sand crabs, baby grunion, and more withmy dad, Allan Schulman - an avid bodysurfer and health food company owner
who shared my passion for animals andthe ocean, encouraging me to explore
nature and ask questions. I was especiallyintrigued by grunion, the fish that buries
its eggs in the sand. I hatched grunion
eggs during a kindergarten field trip to
the Cabrillo Marine Museum, where I
first met John Olguin. He was the Cabrillo
Beach head lifeguard who became theMuseum’s first Director, was featured
in a National Geographic article about

grunion - and was a founding member ofthe American Cetacean Society. John’schild-like enthusiasm, storytelling, and very
animated body language antics (“dance likea grunion!”) inspired me to become a funnyteacher who incorporated story-telling,which I practiced on my three younger
sisters. My kindergarten teacher broughta jar with a huge preserved octopus into
our classroom; I spent lunch studying it,
asking endless questions that often wentunanswered - and decided that I had tolearn everything about octopus! Thoseinteractions started me on my life’s path as
marine biologist and educator.
When did I choose whale research as
my career? I insisted on watching all TV
programs featuring nature and animals,
especially those focusing on whales,
dolphins, apes, elephants, ravens and parrots(wildlife with “higher intelligence”, longrich emotional lives and strong family ties),

Jacques Cousteau, Sylvia Earle, Jane Goodall,and “Flipper”. My “ah-ha” moment occurredin the school library at age 12: a bottlenose
dolphin book by John Lilly in one hand,and a chimpanzee book by Jane Goodall inthe other. I suddenly froze, felt caught in a
spotlight: this was the moment that I would
choose my life’s path. I decided on wild
cetacean studies, which made more sense fora California girl - and to focus on getting toknow individuals, like Jane Goodall does. I
took all possible science classes, and became
a SCUBA certified diver (with my Dad) at age
15. My kindergarten experience inspired me
to explore grunion development by raisingthem at home in 9th and 12th grade science
research projects; I also raised tropical fishand guinea pigs, studying their behavior.
How did I set out to become both awhale researcher and educator? I met
future whale researcher John Heyning
in my university Marine Biology class in
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Alisa Schulman-Janiger Cont.

1978, and we became very close lifelong
friends. John took me to my first Cabrillo
Whalewatch Program class, which was
founded by John Olguin; it is co-sponsoredby the Cabrillo Marine Aquarium andthe Los Angeles Chapter of the American
Cetacean Society (ACS/LA). John Heyning
had attended this naturalist training
program since high school; later we both
became program instructors. A truly
mind-blowing moment: when I heard John
Olguin say “dance like a grunion!” - andsuddenly realized that he was that same
crazy teacher who had first inspired me inkindergarten! Being a naturalist provides
a great opportunity to encounter andphotograph cetaceans, and to do research
while educating the public: sharing
wildlife characteristics, behavior, ecology,
research updates, interesting stories, andconservation/environmental protection
issues. I joined the ACS/LA Chapter in
1979, then the Board of Directors in 1983; I
still serve on that board.
Although I took multiple graduate courses(including marine education), I decided topursue cetacean field research and hands-on
outdoor education. John Heyning workedon the Los Angeles Unified School District(LAUSD) Sea Education Afloat (“SEA”)
Program, on boats teaching marine biology;
he encouraged me to apply in 1979. We
worked on those floating classrooms as
marine biologists while earning our Bachelorof Science degrees; mine was in Zoology(emphasis on Marine Biology). This job
provided a great opportunity to photographcetaceans and study their behavior. I loved
those ten years as a naturalist and educator
for thousands of students (K-college) who
were out on fun field trips! We usually went

60

whale watching, and investigated what wecaught in otter trawl nets, plankton tows, or
during our SCUBA dives in the Port of Los
Angeles. When I joined the SEA Program,all other marine biologists were male. By thetime I left, I was the head marine biologist;
all our key marine biologists were women I
had trained.
A dead whale brought romance! In 1980,
I heard that a whale had been hit by acontainer ship off Ensenada and was
carried on its bulbous bow into the Portof Los Angeles. I raced to the harbor,
photographed the dead juvenile blue whalefrom shore as it was towed into the harbor- and spotted a handsome bearded guy
riding on top of this whale: Dave Janiger,
my future husband! An unusual “scent ofromance”: working on my first dead whale
for a week, under Cabrillo Beach’s hot Julysun; thirteen years later, we got marriedoverlooking this very memorable site. Daveis now the Marine Mammal Collections
Manager at the “Whale Warehouse” of the
Natural History Museum of Los Angeles,
where he can look at “our” blue whale’sskull! We have responded to many otherstrandings since then - although I preferto study them before they die. Dave enjoys
collecting and archiving marine mammal
research papers (“Janiger’s Journals”) andmaking them available to others: a fantastic
source of background material benefiting
researchers world-wide. In 1982, we saw our
first wild killer whales: southern residents
from shore, during our first trip to San
Juan Island. I spotted famous matriarch
J2 Granny, and Dave spotted J1 Ruffles:
a very special launch to my killer whale
field research! It is wonderful to have a
supportive partner who encourages me to

BRE AK ING THE SURFACE WOMEN OF CETOLOGY

follow my passion, even when it takes me far
from home.
In 1979, I went to my first Southern
California Academy of Science Conference.
I attended my first Biennial Conference on
the Biology of Marine Mammals in San
Francisco, 1981. I have attended all ACS
Biennial Conferences (since 1984), andother conferences, including talks by the
Cousteaus - and by my early female scientist
role models Sylvia Earle and Jane Goodall.
Most scientists that presented papers or
posters 35-40 years ago were white males.
Today, many more scientists are female and/or of color. Although diversity has increased,
we still have a long way to go in order to see
a more balanced, real world representationin both presenters and attendees. Marine
mammal conferences are great opportunities
to learn about research in different fields
and meet others with similar interests;
they can lead to friendships, internships,
jobs, collaborations, and potential mentors.
I also explored various marine biology
opportunities, including Fish and Game
Seasonal Aide (only men could wear shorts),
and several marine environmental impact
studies. One potential job that I had to pass
up: Marine Mammal Observer on a Japanese
ship; only men were allowed to fill thisposition, due to harassment concerns.
The ACS/LA Gray Whale Census andBehavior Project became a whale of a citizen
science research effort: still going strong
after 37 seasons! While working on the
SEA Program and naturalizing on whale
watch trips, I became very intrigued by apilot Gray Whale Census project (staffed bycitizen scientists) that operated for a few toseveral weeks (1979-1981) within Marinelandof the Pacific, just west of the Port of Los

In May 2016, Alisa took photo-ID images of over 30 Bigg’stransient killer whales from at least 10 matrilines with Monterey
Bay Whale Watch.
Photo by Bart Selby..
Page 60: Left: Photographer Bob Talbot and Alisa areon top of a dead juvenile blue whale killed in a ship
strike off Mexico, brought into the LA Harbor on a ship’sbow, July 1980. This was her first whale necropsy- andwhere she met her future husband, Dave Janiger.
Photo by Dr. Barbara Brunnick, Palm Beach Dolphin Project Director.
Middle: Alisa and John Heyning work on a juvenile gray whalethat came up near the Port of Los Angeles; drowned in a gillnet
in February 1987.
Photo by Dave Janiger.
Right: Summer 1985, Alisa narrates a whale watch trip off ofGloucester, Mass. She was a naturalist and staff scientist for
Cetacean Research Unit for two seasons- primarily studying
humpback whales.
Photo by CRU research team scientist.

Angeles. This Gray Whale Census wascoordinated by two Cabrillo Whalewatch
Program instructors: paleontologist andeccentric high school marine biology
teacher William (“Bill”) Samaras, and ACS
co-founder Elizabeth (“Bemi”) DeBus. I
decided to reboot and expand it into a fullseason effort: seven days a week, averaging
about 12 hours per day. I started our ACS/LA
Gray Whale Census and Behavior Projectat Marineland on 1 January 1984, training
teams of volunteers to spot, track, and record
gray whales and other marine mammals
utilizing the nearshore migratory corridor,
and record behaviors. Since many grays
were already here by January, subsequentseasons started on 1 December. This baseline
data can be used to clarify long-term
trends: providing perspective for changes
seen in gray whale counts, calf numbers(recruitment), distribution, and migration
timing - and shifts in other species utilizing
our coastal corridor (species diversity andseasonality). Bill Samaras and John Olguin
were important supporters of this projectat Marineland and then at Point Vicente,
Santa Catalina Island, and Santa Cruz
Island. Dave Rugh (NOAA Fisheries) ran
NOAA’s southbound Gray Whale Census
at Granite Canyon. Dave is a cherishedmentor who suggested refinements to project
methodology and other aspects over multiple
years; we collaborated on several Gray
Whale Census papers, including “Status
Review of the Eastern North Pacific Stockof Gray Whales”. I am still the Principle
Investigator, Director, and Coordinator ofthis daily project, which runs sunrise to nearsunset, 1 December through late May, fromthe Point Vicente Interpretive Center (withina mile of our original Marineland site),from a public patio. I’ve trained hundredsof observers over our 37 years, including
students, home makers, educators, lawyers,
nurses, teachers, retired professionals,
and more. Each season, about 100 citizen
scientists work in small team shifts to collectdata and help educate the public; we display
sightings on our Census Whiteboard,and can address questions during breaks
between sightings. I share our gray whale
migration data with NOAA Fisheries(who shares it at IWC meetings) and otherresearchers; it has been used to help inform
conservation legislation. such as the 1990
CA nearshore gillnet closure bill. Nearly
all of my most experienced shift anchors
are women: strong female guidance andmentoring is a hallmark of this project.
I have also had inspiring mentors along mykiller whale research journey. One of myfavorite speakers at early marine mammal
conferences was Dennis Kelly, marine
biology professor at Orange Coast College;
we were both very interested in identifying
individual killer whales off California. On
29 January 1984, our census team anchor
called me before daybreak (interrupting mythird dream that night about watching killer
whales) - saying he “just spotted orcas off
Marineland”! Photographer Bob Talbot andI set out on his Zodiac and finally locatedthem: our first sighting of a group that I
named “the LA Pod;” I later matched many
distinctive individuals to a 1982 Malibu
sighting. Dennis and I began collaboratingon this California killer whale effort. He gaveme his archived killer whale images thatyear, so that he could focus on his bottlenose
dolphin research. I was also lucky enough tospend time with two kind and generous killer
whale experts who encouraged and fueled
my passion. Ken Balcomb, founder and chief

scientist for the Center for Whale Research,
is a passionate and endless reservoir ofknowledge, especially regarding his beloved
southern resident orcas; I’ve visited him
many times on San Juan Island. Canadian
researcher Mike Bigg (“founder of modern
killer whale research”), who was first torecognize that individual killer whales could
be differentiated by shapes of dorsal fins andgray saddles, came to my home. We spenthours talking about killer whale research;he gave me archived images, and sharedinsights on how to proceed with killer whale
photo-ID studies. Mike often sought out
and encouraged budding marine mammal
researchers.
During my Gray Whale Census off-season,
I continued exploring field research andscience education, including working asa trip naturalist and expedition guidein California, Baja California (Cabrillo
Marine Museum, ACS, and others), andAlaska (Princess Cruises). I relocated to
Massachusetts for two seasons to work
as staff scientist/naturalist with Mason
Weinrich (Cetacean Research Unit, aka
Whale Center of New England) on whale
watching boats, focusing primarily on
humpback whales: photographing andidentifying individuals, and sharing
life history details. I also became anambassador for the Sea Grant Program:presenting to educators, and conducting
workshops training teachers to do handson marine biology lessons. For several
years, I was a Natural Science Workshop
Instructor (Ichthyology) for elementary
students at the Natural History Museumof Los Angeles County, and Program
Assistant at the Cabrillo Marine Museum;a highlight for both was hatching grunion

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eggs! I became the local cetacean media
outreach contact. I do annual presentations
for a variety of groups - primarily on local
cetaceans, killer whales, and our Gray
Whale Census Project.
In 1990, my goal of becoming coordinatorof the SEA Program shattered whenthat position was pink-slipped as I wascompleting my Life Science teachingcredential. A year later, I was invited toapply to the prestigious San Pedro HighSchool Marine Science Magnet (LAUSD’s
only Marine Science Magnet) as a marine
biology instructor; those teachers knew mefrom years of going out on my SEA Program
trips. I was a reluctant classroom teacher:a field marine biologist who happened
to teach in a classroom. I loved working
with that wonderful staff of dedicated,innovative instructors and magnet
students for 21 years. I was given lots oflatitude to develop my own curriculum,
which included creative cross-modality
assignments, hands-on activities (likeraising grunion) - and many field trips. I

62

especially enjoyed getting students out of
the classroom to observe animals in theirnatural habitats - such as whale watching
and tidepool exploration. This helped toengage them, making it more likely thatthey would care about those creatures andtheir environments - and hopefully wantto protect them. Students came from allover this massive school district to join our
unique and quite ethnically diverse Marine
Science Magnet program; a busing program
brought them to their preferred magnet
campuses. I mentored several students whowanted to go into marine science careers,
including young women of color who had
experienced severe economic hardship. I
encouraged them to seek scholarships andinternships; most were accepted! Somemotivated students lunched with friends
in my classroom: asking for advice on
marine biology programs and potential job
opportunities, asked about cetaceans andmy field experience stories, and borrowed
books on marine science careers. I still
return for “Career Day” and follow many

BRE AK ING THE SURFACE WOMEN OF CETOLOGY

former students on social media - thrilledthat some have become marine biologists,
environmental stewards, and educators!
While teaching in the classroom, I kept
one foot in cetacean field work and outdoor
education. I continued to coordinate the
ACS/LA Gray Whale Census and Behavior
Project, collaborating with NOAA
Fisheries Gray Whale Census scientists
and other whale researchers, training
naturalists, teaching instructors how toincorporate hands-on science into theirclassrooms, giving public presentations,working on natural history programs suchas “The Whale That Ate Jaws”, building
an informal whale sighting network, andgoing on boats as naturalist or researcher.
My dream trip as a naturalist: a 2005 whale
watch excursion off Santa Barbara that
included primatologist Jane Goodall, herfamily and friends! Five cetacean species- blue whale, minke (with calf), humpback(breaching), Pacific white-sided dolphin,and Risso’s dolphin (with fetal-fold calves)- came near where she stood (with herstuffed chimp). I asked Jane if she had seen
everything that she had wanted to see; shequietly told me: “all I wanted to see was one
whale” - her first ever! I spent several weeks
a year in Monterey Bay, collaborating withmarine biologists Nancy Black and Richard
Ternullo (Monterey Bay Whale Watch
co-owners) on killer whale research. This
led to our publishing the only California
killer whale photo-identification catalog.
Nancy and I continue that collaborationin our non-profit California Killer
Whale Project, focusing primarily on
Bigg’s transient killer whales. On one
1992 trip, we encountered a large groupof “unknown” killer whales that I later
identified as the first sighting of offshore
killer whales documented in California.
In 2000, I confirmed a large sighting (byNancy Black) as the first documentationof southern resident killer whales in
California. I joined several cetacean
surveys, including a NOAA Fisheries
Alaska research survey led by Marilyn
Dahlheim. That cruise was particularly
outstanding: a strong, all female scientist
team - including acoustician Kate Stafford.
I “retired” from classroom teaching in2011 to concentrate on cetacean research. I
joined cruises including NOAA Fisheries
2015 Collaborative Large Whale Survey(CLaWS), Alaska-San Diego; my legs focused
primarily on photo-IDs/biopsies of Pacific
Coast Feeding Group (PCFG) gray whales.
Another adventure: 2016 ACS/Cheeseman
Antarctica trip, including humpback andkiller whale photo-IDs (citizen science).
I am a Research Associate at the Natural
History Museum of Los Angeles County,
and am on NOAA Fisheries Large Whale
Entanglement Response Network andStranding Response Team. I focus on
cetacean photo-IDs and on individual killer
whales and their life histories, especiallythose sighted in California: Bigg’s (transient)killer whales, plus offshore killer whales,
southern residents, and killer whales fromthe Eastern Tropical Pacific (ETPs). I anchor
additional shifts at our ACS/LA Gray Whale
Census and Behavior Project, and takephoto-ID images, confirm calf presence, andwatch for potentially entangled cetaceans; wehave spotted and monitored a few entangled
whales, assisting the Entanglement Response
Team efforts. Our photos have helped track
unusual sightings and confirm unique
individuals, such as killer whales, sperm
whales, flukeless grays, and the well-known
Pacific Coast Feeding Group female graywhale “Scarback”. We can document body

conditions of some gray whales, giving
insight into the current gray whale Unusual
Mortality Event (UMI). I continue tocollaborate with other Gray Whale Census
researchers, John Calambokidas andteam (Cascadia Research Collective), Ted
Cheeseman (Happywhale: citizen science
humpback whale photo-ID matching image
processing algorithms), and others. I do ACS/
LA and other social media posts, including
Gray Whale Census daily summaries and“Whale Alerts” for unusual sightings suchas large pods, high counts, calves, unusual
behaviors, and rarities; we have documented
over twenty marine mammal species!
My non-traditional life’s path has beenvery interesting. It has provided travel
opportunities while conducting cetacean
field research, and enabled me to be an
educator and conservation advocate ina typical venue (high school classroom)
as well as in many atypical venues. Forty
years of killer whale research continues
to yield fascinating results, particularly
in our studies of multiple generations ofBigg’s transients. Our ACS/LA Gray Whale
Census and Behavior Project is especiallyrewarding: it is the longest consecutive
full season Gray Whale Census, and oneof the longest-running cetacean citizen
science projects! Some Gray Whale Census
volunteers have been with us for over 25
years. These trained citizen scientists
help collect crucial data (impossible to dowith professional scientists due to budget
constraints), contributing to a unique longterm local research effort. They also educate
the public about local cetaceans, safe
whale watching practices, and the scientificprocess; their contributions are priceless,illustrating the power of citizen science intackling conservation issues. I have hadsome amazing mentors and role models,
both male and female - as well as countless
opportunities as an educator to be a mentor.
My advice to aspiring cetacean scientists:
find your passion, follow your dream, do
not give up, and be open to unexpected
opportunities! Join the MARMAM mailing
list: a site where scientists post internships,
jobs and new publications related to marine
mammals. Volunteer, seek internships,
and attend marine mammal conferences;these are great ways to gain invaluable
experience and make connections. We
stand on the shoulders of those that comebefore us; hopefully we will influence future
generations of scientists who will follow
their passions - and care about protecting
our planet and its inhabitants.

Top: Reporter Conor Knighton (KCET SoCal Connected)
interviews me about orca behavior, Bay Delta, southern
residents dependence on salmon, March 2015.
Photo by Gray Whale Census observer.
Middle: Circa the late 1980s, Alisa shows intrigued
students a sand star they caught in an otter trawl (Portof Los Angeles) before they handle it, during a Sea
Education Afloat (SEA) Program field trip. For many ofthe diverse K-12 students bused in across LAUSD, thiswas their first look at the ocean’s inhabitants.
Photo by trip chaperone.
Bottom: Alisa (with friend Eric Martin, Manhattan
Beach Roundhouse Aquarium Co-Director),encountered her favorite group of killer whales, theBigg’s transient matriline CA51s, off southern California,
December 2018. Young male CA51C Bumper is
especially curious: Alisa nicknamed him “Bumper” dueto his habit of sometimes greeting boats with a very
gentle bump. Photo by Gray Whale Census observer
Gordon Gates.
Page 62: Alisa during small boat photo-identificationof cetaceans off of the west coast of Vancouver
Island, launched from the RV Reuben Lasker, during
the NOAA Fisheries 2015 Collaborative Large Whale
Survey (CLaWS), September 2015. Taken under NOAA
Permit #14097.
Photo by CLaWS research team scientist.

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Don’t Let
the ‘Isms’

Get You
Down
Naomi A. Rose
64

BRE AK ING THE SURFACE WOMEN OF CETOLOGY

T

aking a detour on the
Road of LifeUp until a couple of years before I
finished my Ph.D., I was working toward a
career in academia. I assumed I would be aprofessor by day, a scientist by night—or byseason, anyway. I loved being in the field,
observing free-ranging marine mammals
living their lives and I felt exploring the
unknowns of their biology and ecology
would be a grand way to spend the rest of
my life.
Then two events occurred that made it
clear I wasn’t cut out for the academic life.
They were related, I think, to the kind of
woman I am. According to my mother,
I was born forceful and confident and I
remember a number of incidents from mychildhood, from publicly chastising mymiddle school teacher, who kept calling on
me instead of others with their hands up,

Left: Naomi with husband Chris Parsons in
New Zealand, 2013.
Right: Naomi with California Assemblyman
Richard Bloom and former SeaWorld trainer
John Hargrove in 2016, after passage of
Bloom’s captive orca bill.
Photos courtesy of Naomi Rose.
Page 64: Naomi revisiting her field sites withauthor David Kirby during research for his
book Death at SeaWorld in Johnstone Strait,
British Columbia, Canada, 2011.
Photo by Chris Parsons.

to bossing my friends around (forceful asa child can be decidedly not endearing to
one’s peers!), that support her assessment.
The first event was my graduate advisor
sexually harassing me. I never considered
not doing something about this, although
this was years before the #MeToomovement; I filed a complaint with theuniversity. I wasn’t the only one speaking
out about his behavior, although I think
the other complaints were focused moreon his increasingly erratic and potentially
dangerous actions—I don’t think I was
the only woman he harassed, but I may
have been the only one who did anything
formal about it. Given his mental healthhistory (he had a diagnosed condition),
the administration followed up on thesecomplaints, but because he was tenured,
I felt the steps they pursued were barely
adequate. He left the university soon after,
failing even to show up for my oral exam. I
had to switch advisors more than midway
through my dissertation work. The entire
experience was not only disruptive andstressful, but in several ways soured me on
the American university system.
The second occurred in the context of
my work as a teaching assistant. I like
preparing and delivering lectures andpresentations to this day, but dealing withstudents one-on-one (during office hours,for example) was more challenging for me.
As long as the students were following my
explanations, I was fine, but if they were
struggling, I had difficulties figuring out
how to help. I lack patience in general,
especially with those who can’t understandwhat seems obvious to me (unlike being
forceful, which I see as mostly positive,
I consider my impatience to be a fairly
grievous personality fault, especially when

I’m dealing with subordinates rather thanpeers). In one interaction with a student, I
tried three different ways to explain somebasic genetics concept. I became frustrated
with her lack of comprehension and she
started to cry. I immediately shifted into
apology/comforting mode, but I realized
rather abruptly that if my normal manner
could lead to this outcome, I was probably
not suited to teaching as a profession.
Self-awareness is useful in all walks of life.
Acknowledging weaknesses of character or
personal faults is not a negative, although
I feel western society, and perhaps
particularly American society, whereself-reliance is far more valued, considers
it to be. Literally, nobody is perfect, andaccountability is woefully underrated.
One good reason not to shy away from theparts of yourself that are least admirable
is because they will come into play in yourlife whether you want them to or not, mostoften when dealing with other people.
When they do, if they don’t blindside you
because you’ve already made your peacewith them, that’s one less shock you will
have to weather in the midst of whateverchallenges you face.
In addition, I had started to feel
uncomfortable about whales and dolphinsbeing held in small concrete tanks, after
several field seasons with them in thewild. I had been relatively neutral on the
topic until then, as I believe many marine
mammal field biologists are. However,after stopping each season to visit theorcas at Vancouver Aquarium (which
had a very small enclosure holding threeof the massive animals) on my way tospending long summer days watching theirwild cousins do what they do in the vast
stretches of the Inside Passage of British

Columbia, I concluded it wasn’t in theirbest interests to be in zoos or aquariums. I
began to wonder if perhaps my personality
was more suited to actively fighting tochange things for the better than studying
them as they are. Science is key to making
good conservation and welfare policy,
but unless an advocate (who can be thescientist or another person) takes theinformation forward into the policy arena,
it is unlikely to reach, or to be understoodby, decision makers.
I wasn’t sure how to switch tracks so latein my graduate career, but when I started
job hunting in the year leading up to mygraduation, I focused on positions at nonprofit charities (aka non-governmentalorganizations or NGOs). I thought I would
try a couple of years at environmental
advocacy and see if I was any good at
it. I had no experience with wildlife
activism beyond being a member of afew environmental NGOs and writingsome letters in response to action alerts,
but certainly I felt strongly about marine
wildlife and habitat protection. I wasn’t
aware at this point that combining scienceand advocacy was in any way unusual.
However, the scientific method is objective
and advocacy, of course, is all about
having a point of view and promoting
it to others. There are many within thescientific community who believe the two
do not mix well (I strongly disagree, but
that’s another story!).
My job hunt did not start out
auspiciously—I found it very challenging
to root out job opportunities (this wasin pre-internet days and the resources
for specialty employment listings were
far more limited or difficult to accessthan they are today). I also am not good

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Naomi Rose Cont.

at glad-handing and social networking,an odd paradox given my confidence inmost situations. I’m an introvert (not as
contradictory as it sounds—introversion is
not shyness) and definitely not comfortable
talking about myself with strangers. I’ve
pushed past this reluctance to cold-callor meet relevant strangers several times,
to amazing effect (so I highly recommend
making the effort!), but it doesn’t comenaturally. I’ve improved at this withtime—I think certain social skills are often
innate but can, if needed, be learned.
Anyway, if a job opening isn’t obvious,
I’m likely to miss it. Some people, whenlooking for work, might submit 50100 job applications in a few months.
I wasn’t able to identify enough open
positions to submit even two dozen in thesame amount of time! But one of those
applications was for a position with ananimal welfare organization as a “marine
mammal scientist,” which I saw advertised
in a publication listing environmental
jobs. Given I was getting a bit desperateand starting to apply for “wetlands
biologist” and the like (having nothingwhatever to do with my dissertation on
the social dynamics of killer whales), I
was gobsmacked at the serendipity of sucha job title.
Luck has played an active role in my life,
but I am a firm believer that “luck” isreally just having a positive and responsive
outlook when opportunities do arise.

Whatever You Do,
Don’t Take It Personally

My two years of testing the advocacy
waters has become 27. Turns out my66

personality is very well suited to both
confronting opposition and working
to persuade others to share my pointof view. I never joined the debate clubwhen I was in school, but I woulda been acontender if I had! I’m logical, not a trait
considered traditionally “feminine,” butit definitely suits advocacy. It helps me
dismantle the fallacious arguments of myadversaries. I probably would have madea decent lawyer, but I have no regrets
about pursuing a degree in science. There
are far more lawyers in wildlife advocacy
than biologists, particularly when it comesto marine mammals—the advocacy
community needs more minds solidly
versed in the biology of the animals weseek to protect.
As it turns out, my advocacy has made me alightning rod for a single issue. This wasn’t
my intention, but in my new position, I was
tasked with leading a campaign to end thecaptive display of cetaceans and I took thedirective literally. I am now considereda world expert on the welfare of captive
marine mammals. This isn’t as mundane
as it sounds—the people who operatefacilities that display performing marine
mammals feel extraordinarily proprietary
about the animals in their care and do notnecessarily respond rationally to those of
us who consider the practice of keeping
these species in captivity unethical orinhumane. My first year on the job, I was
thrown in at the deep end, asked to take on
major corporations and upend a paradigm
even within the scientific community,
which at that time considered captive
marine mammals worthy of little or no
ethical concern.

BRE AK ING THE SURFACE WOMEN OF CETOLOGY

I noted immediately that the global
campaign to end cetacean display was
founded not on science or logic, but
passion and empathy. The latter are
essential to sustain an advocacy campaign,
but I believed the former would havemore influence on shifting the paradigm.
I envisioned a long game, whose goal was
to clarify that there was a sound biologicalfoundation for arguing cetaceans don’t
belong in captivity and to develop
arguments that resonated with membersof the public who never gave much thought
to what went on behind the scenes of amarine mammal exhibit from one day
to the next. The ardent fans of dolphin
shows were unreachable and the dedicatedanimal activists were solidly on side; I was
focused on the undecideds, of which there
were many when it came to this issue.
Over the years in my campaigning, I haveno doubt pushed past sexism (and racism:my mother is Asian, my father Jewish) far
more often than I am consciously awareof. Most often, I have considered people’s
arguments at face value (whether they aresubstantive, fallacious, or defensive)—I
don’t look for hidden meanings. But inretrospect, I suspect there have been many
instances where my interactions withcertain individuals would have played out
differently had I been a man.
My work rather often pits me directlyagainst established men (although a fairnumber of my adversaries are women) in
the scientific, policy, and corporate arenas.
I have faced down dismissive behavior
from legislators, insults from executives
and scientific peers, and Facebook pages

dedicated to ending my career. I’ve neverconsidered these attacks to be primarily
motivated by an “ism” at the time they
were occurring—I’ve just judged thesepeople as lacking character (this may be
a coping mechanism, but I don’t thinkof it that way; it’s simply my instinctive
assessment of their antics). Perhaps this isnaïve—but I think of it more as pragmatic.
Worrying about the motivations of people
outside of your immediate personal circle
is a waste of valuable time.
The corollary to this is, I never take anyof this unprofessional behavior to heart,
not even the racist memes maligning methat have circulated on the internet. “Don’t
take it personally” is my standard advice
to anyone approaching me for words of
wisdom as they consider a future in wildlife
advocacy. The folks who feel compelled
to behave this way toward advocates—
either because they feel their livelihoods
threatened, are self-righteous or arrogant,suffer from simple greed, or what-haveyou—are indeed behaving unprofessionally.
I have little respect for people who resort
to ad hominem attacks because they don’t
have substantive rebuttals to my arguments.
And as anyone who knows me well can
attest, I truly don’t care what someone I
don’t respect thinks of me.

Be fierce

Despite being a woman of color, I havenever discussed my reactions to sexism or
racism publicly before. I haven’t discussed
them not because I fear them or consider
them harmful secrets to be hidden away.
It’s literally because I haven’t spentmuch time considering the professional
opposition I’ve faced through a gender or
racial prism. I don’t dwell on the negative
forces I’ve encountered throughout mylife and career. To me, they are simply
obstacles that life naturally throws ourway—we can deal with them head-on,
maneuver around them, or run away fromthem. These are daily choices we make,but for me, my choices have always been
instinctive. It truly never occurs to me torun. I sometimes move around obstacles
because I’m constrained by time orresources or others convince me it’s theappropriate strategy. But generally I simply
bulldoze past the problem. I recognize that
others may not respond this way—andperhaps in some cases it isn’t the best
way to respond, as it can unnecessarily
antagonize others, which isn’t helpful!
However, for me, it’s always been morea matter of learning how and when to
back off rather than how or when to pushforward. Few are born with the wisdom
to know when it’s best to do either—mostof us have to earn that wisdom throughexperience.
Choosing to combine my scientificbackground and credentials withadvocacy—on a controversial issue noless—has led to a life of confrontationand challenge that I never envisioned
when I spent long hours on elephant seal
rookeries or along the coast of orca habitat
recording wildlife social dynamics. Beingin the field observing marine mammals
is as far as one can get from testifying infront of Congress. But ultimately I feelthe value of my being a scientist has beenmaximized in the policy arena—there aremany dedicated biologists studying marine
mammals, providing the data that clarify
their survival needs. But only a few choose
to fight for their protection in the humanhalls of policy.
For advocates and activists, it’s easy toburn out and it’s way too easy to fall into
the trap of attending policy meetings andconservation conferences and regulatory
task forces without actively speaking up
and out. Just being there isn’t enough—one
must be fierce and fearless of becominga target. In some parts of the world, thisliterally means risking one’s life. In others,
such as the arenas I frequent, it simply
means not caring what adversaries do orsay, beyond the need to effectively rebut
their arguments.
I cannot claim my career has been moredifficult because of my gender or ethnicity,
because I honestly haven’t been paying
attention to that. Certainly I can point toincidents where sexism or racism wereelements of the response my advocacy
has received. But as I said before, I view
someone who would choose to respond tome this way as unworthy of respect.

Top: Naomi checking out Hobbiton in New Zealand, 2013.
Middle: Naomi speaking in California on behalf of AB2140, theOrca Welfare and Safety Act, in 2014.
Bottom: Naomi at the Planet On Film Festival with Ian Michler,
Roger Payne, Jane Goodall, Louie Psihoyos, Norma Caudros, andBoy Olmi, among others in Bogota, Colombia, 2015.
Page 66: Naomi giving a public lecture on captive cetaceans inShanghai, China in 2019. The event was live-streamed to tens of
thousands of people via Weibo.
Photos courtesy of Naomi Rose.

And so I move on to the next battle, thenext progressive step. Am I changing theworld? Perhaps my small corner of it, but
in the end, advocacy is about doing theright thing for its own sake. If you actually
expect to change the world, you willprobably be disappointed. That’s a heavy
lift—start small and be pragmatic about
your expectations. Stay hydrated. Sleep
well. And don’t let the isms get you down.

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From Savanna
to Sea:33 Years Studying
Bottlenose Dolphins
Janet MannJ

uly 16, 2002. “Dodger has a sponge!” I
yelled. This was completely unnecessary
since our boat “Maziwa” (milk in Swahili),
was only 4 meters in length and Dodger, atwo-year old female, was right there at thebow, carrying a sponge on her rostrum.
Dodger came from an important lineage.
Her grandmother, Half-fluke, was the first
dolphin ever seen carrying a conical marine
sponge (used as a tool to ferret prey from theseafloor). Half-fluke’s daughter, Dodger’s
mother – Demi was the first offspring I or
anyone else had ever seen carrying a sponge
13 years earlier on June 12, 1989. This was afamily of firsts. First sponger, first offspringwith sponge, and now first grandoffspring(Demi’s first-born!) with a sponge. I nearlyfell off the boat.
I was not and am not a flipperphile. Nor
did I follow Jacques Cousteau that closely
as a child. “Wild Kingdom” enthralled
me– even though I did not relate to either
Marlin Perkins or Jim Fowler. But, theearly tales of Jane Goodall, Dian Fossey
and Biruté Galdikas – traipsing theforests of Tanzania, Rwanda and Borneo

68

for glimpses of our closest cousins,
chimpanzees, gorillas and orangutans
fascinated me to no end. The “Trimates”
as they were dubbed, were prominent rolemodels for anyone who was interested inanimals, evolution, and how we got here. I
was not alone in this, as many well-known
women scientists today credit the National
Geographic Effect of the Trimates forlaunching their careers (Haraway 1989).
By my mid-teens, I had read every bookabout primates in the library – discoveringa bevy of women primatologists – Sarah
Hrdy, Alison Jolly, Jeanne Altmann, Phyllis
Dolhinow, Jane Lancaster, and others. After
stints in a primate lab at Hofstra University
and an internship at The American Museumof Natural History in Manhattan during myhigh school years, and primate lab research
while an undergraduate at Brown University,
my goal to become a field, rather than lab
biologist sharpened. In large part, this was
because the lab conditions at the time were
far from optimal. Monkeys were housed insmall individual cages with little stimulation.
It was no wonder they could not perform

BRE AK ING THE SURFACE WOMEN OF CETOLOGY

the basic cognitive tasks given to them. For
my junior year at Brown, I decided that I
would be a primatologist’s field assistantsomewhere in Africa. My first stop was to ask
the professor whose lab I worked in for overa year for a letter of recommendation. To mysurprise and dismay, he refused, “only thebest can be field primatologists,” adding thatI “smiled too much.” I did not understandthis, as my volunteer record in his lab was
perfect. One of the graduate students hinted
that perhaps my obvious concerns about thelaboratory conditions were not well received.
I stopped smiling and retreated to mydormitory in despair.
A friend in medical school rescued me byintroducing me to Jane Phillips-Conroy,
a physical anthropologist in the medical
school who studied baboons in Ethiopia. She
helped me write letters to six primatologists,
and to my surprise, most of them wrote
back. Dr. Phillips-Conroy helped me sort
through three that were willing to consider
my application, but her advice was clear.
Work with Jeanne Altmann at the Universityof Chicago. Jeanne is most famous for her

Ashley, Dodger’s younger sister, swimming with her friend Osprey, also descended from a long line of Spongers. Photo by Ewa Krzyszczyk.

studies of savanna baboons and particularly,
observational methods. Her 1974 methods
paper has been cited over 15,000 times.
Jeanne was my first real mentor, giving me
papers to read and asking me what I thought
the next day. She tested me by asking me toread a dissertation where the student likely
falsified his data. Fortunately, I noted thatsome numbers were too perfect and others
didn’t make sense. But most importantly,
she trained me in observational methods,
long-term study design, and how to be a fieldbiologist while studying savanna baboons
in Amboseli National Park in Kenya. This
formed the foundation of my career and for
the Shark Bay Dolphin Research Project
which I now direct.
With so many female role models infield primatology, it was an easy choice
to attend The University of Michigan for
graduate school as Barbara Smuts’ first
graduate student. She was an up-andcoming primatologist with two seminal
books “Primate Societies” and “Sex andFriendship in Baboons”. It was Barb who
introduced me to dolphin research, as she

had become intrigued with a field site in
Shark Bay, Australia, that was initiated by
Rachel Smolker and Richard Connor. Her
field assistant backed out and she asked me
to come along and help. It was a chance to
do fieldwork in Australia and the prospect ofgetting involved with dolphin research was
intriguing, but I only expected to help out fora few months and that would be that.
It was 1988 and in preparing for the trip, I
found little research on dolphin or whale
behavior in the wild. Although this is not
surprising given how hard it is to study
wild cetaceans, it was evident that few
individuals had been studied in any detail.
The clear and sometimes calm waters of
Shark Bay afforded a different view. It was
not unlike forest primates that go in andout of view, but their distinctive dorsal
fins stood out at every breath to advertiseindividual status. And, with clear water,
not only did views of their ventral sides
allow us to tell their sex, but we could
also approximate their ages - as they
conveniently speckled ventrally aroundsexual maturity. Clear waters also afforded

us views of the details of their behavior,
literally what body parts touched when
they pet each other. Few believed mewhen I described how often I saw nursing.
Now the challenge was to find methods
to systematically measure all of these
fascinating behaviors.
I had found a research home. Barb had
become quite taken with dog behavior
and was willing to let me continue theresearch she had started. Her interest wasin female reproduction and mother-calf
behavior, something which I focused on in
my graduate and undergraduate research.
It wasn’t “aww, babies are cute”. It was –how can a marine mammal navigate theintensive and extensive costs of maternalcare while feeding herself? At the time, theliterature insisted – as it sometimes doesto this day, that bottlenose dolphins nurse
their young for less than 2 years – typically
12-18 months. So, on this first trip, I thought
I would study some mother calf pairs fora couple of years and move on to otherthings. But, the calves were nursing formuch longer than that! Mouse, daughter
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69Janet Mann Cont.

of Minnie, recruited early on in the study,
nursed for over 7 years. Clearly somethingelse was going on. Nothing in the literaturesuggested that dolphins maintained suchprolonged dependency. But mothers andcalves were rarely observed for more than a
year, even in captive settings. As it turns out,
hundreds of calves later, we now know thatmothers nurse their last-born a very longtime – sometimes 8 years or more. This way
she ensures the survival of her last calf andavoids the costs of producing another calfthat is unlikely to survive.
The other striking features were how
important and complex their social
relationships were. The fission-fusion
dynamics, where group compositionchanges 5-6 times per hour, were nothing
like the fission-fusion dynamics describedfor chimpanzees and spider monkeys.
Bottlenose dolphins were much more flexible
socially. One could go off to hunt, return
to a group and set off again minutes later.
The shocking thing was that calves did this
too—even very small ones—a few months
old. They would zip off hundreds of meters oreven a kilometer away -and either find someother calf or seagrass to play with and zoom
back. How did they do that? And wasn’t thisShark Bay? And if there is ‘babysitting’ as I
had read, who is babysitting whom?

70

So, I was hooked. After developing
systematic focal sampling methods thatcatered to wild dolphins, I thought that I
could contribute something. Several papers
with Barb Smuts as my co-author focusedon mother-newborn behavior, including atest of the babysitting hypothesis. Following
another famous primatologist, Sarah Hrdy,
the reasoning was that allomaternal behavior(allo for other) was of 3 types: allomaternalcare where one does behaviors that protect
and nurture the calf a way the mother wouldat some cost to itself and at some benefit to
the mother since she does not have to dothat investment; allomaternal abuse, whereanother harms or costs the mother or calf;and, allomaternal behavior, which is neither– simply social interactions that involve thecalf and non-mother. The latter might offersome benefits to the calf and the allomother,but if it didn’t benefit the mother, it would
not qualify as different from any other social
interaction. It was evident that when young
dolphins, invariably female, ventured off
with someone else’s calf, mothers were morevigilant, not less, and the interactions were
not different than when two calves swam off
together. Babysitting does not seem to be athing among Shark Bay bottlenose dolphins.
As for how mothers and calves navigatedthese separations, our work with
Rachel Smolker showed how important

BRE AK ING THE SURFACE WOMEN OF CETOLOGY

communication, and particularly signature
whistles are for mediating separations andreunions. Oddly enough, it was the calf
who would whistle (mothers rarely), andthe calf already seemed to know where
the mother was. Typically, the calf would
whistle and then bee-line back to themother, who hadn’t whistled at all. To thisday, I hope someone will test our hypothesisthat calves passively listen to their mother’secholocation and track her the whole time.
They know where she is, they whistle to let
her know they want to come back. If she
stops hunting, then back they go.
As for the risks of these separations, wetested this with my first graduate student,
Jana Joy Watson-Capps. Basically we
examined the survival prospects of calves
that separated often compared to those thatstayed close to their mothers. Contrary towhat we predicted, it was the adventurous
calves that survived. It seems that condition
is key. Calves in good condition venture off.
Those that aren’t, stay close to mum.
So many questions. I was fortunate to geta tenure-track position at Georgetown
University fresh from my PhD in 1991. The
academic pipeline was different then, but
all the pressures of a tenure-track job were
there. There were very few women scientists
at Georgetown in the 1990s and there wereLeft: Janet Mann in the field.
Photo by Ann-Marie Jacoby.
Right: Janet with dolphins andtourists during an educational talk in
Shark Bay, Australia.
Photo by Katie Gill Patterson.
Page 70: Two young male bottlenose
dolphins petting each other.
Photo by Ewa Krzyszczyk.

virtually no women in senior administrative
positions. Maybe because of this, the women
supported each other. But I also had the
support of one male Professor who guided
me from early on.
The Shark Bay data became more andmore valuable with time. Calves grewup and had their own calves. Soon I
was studying grandmothers and great
grandmothers. In 1997 I applied for,and received my first National Science
Foundation grant. Since then, I have been
continuously funded by the National
Science Foundation. The value of that
support cannot be overstated. Academia
is full of challenges, but without funding
how could I possibly maintain a longterm study site? The boats, the facilities,
the airfares, the vehicles, food and fuel.
Graduate students, undergraduate
students. Mouths to feed. Stipends to pay.
And exciting questions to answer.
None of it was easy. Shark Bay is the
remote ‘outback’. Few women were onboats. The men would stare, mostly laugh.
I laughed back. Some wanted to talk.
Talk about fish, talk about weather, talkabout how to fix an outboard or electronic
wiring to the radio or gps, talk about things
they rarely talked with women about. A
curiosity. A woman, a scientist, a professor
and an American, from New York- no less.
What could be worse? I was young, so themen were flirty more than hostile. But,
battles broke out over money – if someone
thought the researchers were stiflingtourism dollars to protect their precious
dolphins. Most understood that protecting
precious dolphins was the best for tourism
dollars too. People began flocking to Shark
Bay more and more when they heard

about the friendly dolphins. Some of thedolphins were fed fish handouts by fishers
that evolved into an organized tourist
operation. The dirt road was paved. A
millionaire bought the campground and it
became a ‘resort’. Film crews showed up.
Today there are two pools, tennis courts, aspa, two restaurants and cappuccino. We
used to eat from cans.
Maintaining a long-term study is extremely
taxing. We spend an inordinate amountof time cleaning data for the database.
Returning to film and hardcopies again
and again to make sure every identificationand piece of information is accurate. Since
2005, I have been collaborating with acomputer scientist, Lisa Singh, also a
professor at Georgetown, who has proved
to be an invaluable colleague in helping
us build a truly beautiful database. In
addition to my students, several other
women have helped shape our current
research. Dr. Celine Frere, a highly
regarded molecular ecologist at Universityof the Sunshine Coast, has been working
with me for 14 years on the genetics data.
Dr. Shweta Bansal, a network scientist andmathematical modeler focused on diseasetransmission at Georgetown, works withme on Shark Bay data and our new study ofbottlenose dolphins in the Potomac Riverand Chesapeake Bay. These collaborations
have been so crucial in a rapidly changing
academic and global climate.
I forged strong bonds with several womenand men in marine mammalogy, but since
my training came from primatology andanimal behavior, I always felt a bit likean outsider to the field, but coming into it
laterally probably made it a bit easier topursue my ambitions. The approach to the

Shark Bay research was very much in the
tradition I learned from Jeanne Altmann.
I inherited an entire network of alphafemale primatologists and behavioral
ecologists. I did not feel, like many of myfemale colleagues tell me, like I had to gain
the approval of the senior men in the field.
It was noticeable at conferences that there
were many high-ranking men and many
many young women trying to ‘break-in’
to the field. Many of the women who
became icons in the field studied cetacean
physiology and energetics, maintaining
vibrant research labs, not field studies.
This does not mean there wasn’t
competition, envy or other problems
during the course of my career. Every longterm field study has conflicts – marine andterrestrial, and many dissolve as a result.
Women, unfortunately, sometimes cave-induring such conflicts in order to resolve asituation quickly. They accept lesser pay,lesser authorships or no authorship at all.
Sometimes their expectations are lower
than they should be. In academia, women
do more service than men. We all know thenegative stereotypes assigned to women
who speak up for themselves. The fearof not being liked hurts many women in
their career path. But, women might ask
themselves if they really care about theopinions of those that wish for their failure.
Fundamentally, doing good research wasalways of paramount importance to me.
That clarion call, my wonderful colleagues,
students and partner, allowed me to returnto Shark Bay year after year, and keep thediscoveries coming.
Haraway, Donna 1989 Primate Visions: Gender, Raceand Nature in the World of Modern Science

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Page 73: Top: Lori in the lab holding adolphin brain.
Photo by Jack Kearse, Emory University.
Bottom: Lori speaking about dolphin brains.
Photo courtesy of Volker Barth.

My Journey to

Scholar-Advocacy
Lori MarinoOn March 8, 2020 a young student at
the University of Toronto publishedan article (Leckie, 2020) in the school
newspaper that was like looking in a mirror.
In the article she described her feelings
about her first experience with vivisection
in a physiology lab. She explained how she“practiced” on a dead mouse and then wasgiven a live mouse to learn how to restrain
him/her, clip the ears, and draw blood fromthe tail – all standard laboratory practices.
As disturbing as these conventional
exercises were, the author found thecavalier attitude many of her student
colleagues and teachers had towards
them to be even more distressing. She
experienced the systematic “tougheningup” of students in physiology,
neuroscience, psychology and otheracademic disciplines rife with the use ofother animals as research subjects in labs.
She was told she would “get used to it” andthe implication was that if she wanted to bea real scientist she needed to put her deep
concerns about animal welfare aside in72

order to do what needed to be done for thegood of science.
Her article is a highly personal exploration ofher mental state during the procedures she
was performing in her role as “scientist-intraining” and how she was caught between
feelings about the moral wrongness ofharming a living being and her desire to be
seen as a professional. She asks: “Do I join theteam of people, of scientists, who are used toit? Do I convince myself of its value? Or do I
stand still, arms crossed, in protest?”.
Her dilemma is not resolved by the end of
the article but she courageously concludes
that it is important for her to feel the painof apprehension in these lab exercises: “Iwant to continue to feel uncomfortable,
distressed, and stunned.” And upon
reading this statement I was heartened
to realize that she had great promise as
an articulate and reflective scholar who
intrinsically understood the gravity of what
academic science training was doing to her
psychologically. We should be anxiously
squirming in our seats and questioning

BRE AK ING THE SURFACE WOMEN OF CETOLOGY

everything about using other animals
in vivisection labs. We should never get
comfortable with it.
Her experiences are so familiar to me.
As a young student in college at New
York University and then afterwards at
The Rockefeller University I conductedinvasive and terminal research on rats.
And then, after deciding to give up invasive
animal research, I was still confronted
with the ethical questions surrounding
keeping animals, i.e., chickens, in labs, as a
graduate student at State University of New
York - Albany. I decided I didn’t want to dothat either.
At around that same time I was looking
for a Ph.D. dissertation topic when I cameacross a photo of a dolphin brain in a bookon marine mammals. I knew then that
I had to study such a brain. I wanted toknow why it evolved to be so large and how
it was different (and also the same as) the
primate brain. And that is when I began
my primary line of years-long researchusing magnetic resonance imaging (MRI)to study the postmortem brains of dolphins
and whales who had died naturally. For mydissertation I spent many months in a dusty
basement of The Smithsonian National
Museum of Natural History measuring
the brains of modern dolphins and whales
and devising a technique to assess brain
size from their cranial capacity. From thiswork I discovered that some dolphin species
have encephalization levels second only tomodern humans and significantly higher
than even great apes.
I then went on to ask questions about theevolutionary trajectory the dolphin andwhale brain took on the way to becoming
so large and I found myself again spending
months in a different part of the basementof the Museum of Natural History – thistime amidst the collection of cetacean
fossils, using computed tomography (CT)to peer inside and measure the fossilized
crania of cetaceans who lived over 40
million years ago. I was as if a “kid ina candy store!” pulling out shelves offossils and discovering priceless treasure
after treasure. Based on that work, mycollaborators, paleontologist Mark Uhen
and complexity theorist Dan McShea
and I published a paper in 2004 tracing
the evolutionary trajectory of brain
and body size in odontocetes (toothed
whales, dolphins and porpoises) anddemonstrating that a major increase inbrain size occurred ~35 million years ago
in specific odontocete lineages.
Through the years my varied collaborators
and I have used MRI to uncover some of the
anatomical wonders of modern cetacean
brains across a number of species andcontinue to map the architecture of a brainthat has been on a different evolutionary
trajectory from that of our own primate
lineage for over 95 million years.
But it wasn’t until I became a full-time
faculty member at Emory University in
Neuroscience and Behavioral Biology that
I was confronted most powerfully with the
ethical dimensions of conducting researchon/with other animals and advising/teaching neuroscience to undergraduates.
In the beginning of my position at Emory I
conducted noninvasive cognitive researchwith captive chimpanzees at Yerkes
National Primate Research Center andwith dolphins and beluga whales at various
marine parks. And, with Diana Reiss, had
published the first evidence for mirror selfrecognition in bottlenose dolphins in 2001
(Reiss & Marino, 2001). I told myself that I
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73Lori Marino Cont.

wasn’t harming any of my research subjects
and that defense was enough to keep myapprehensions at bay… for a while.
But then “animal activists” started asking
me about the implications of our findings
for the dolphins themselves. I began tothink about what the lives of the twodolphins, Presley and Tab, who passed
the mirror test, were like as they circled
endlessly in a barren pool in Coney
Island, NY. And then, a couple of years
later, I received the news that they weretransferred to other facilities and died ofcommon infections at young ages. And
it was also at this same general time that
I became aware of where many captive
dolphins come from – the infamous
Taiji dolphin drives where thousandsof cetaceans are slaughtered every year
underwritten by marine mammal parks
all over the world. And, as if all of thatwere not enough, reality hit me squarelyon the head with a “two by four” when
one day I ventured into a lab at Yerkes andfound my favorite chimpanzee, Clint, haddied of heart failure at the young age of 24
and remained nothing more than a brain
floating in a jar on a shelf. Heartbroken,
that day I vowed never to step foot in thatplace again. And I never have. I recently
wrote an essay about him (Marino, 2019).
And, as an academic advisor and instructor
for the capstone Research Methods in
Neuroscience course, each semester
students would come to my office and fretabout what they were told they needed to
do to other animals – and how they wereforced to feel about it – in order to stay on
their professional trajectory (just like thestudent at the University of Toronto). I saw
many capitulate and harden. I saw many
punished for staying in but protesting.
And I saw many abandon their lifelong
aspirations rather than run the gauntlet.
Mid-career in the mid-2000s, having dealt
with the tragic deaths of my researchsubjects, the anguish of those students who
were forced into a mold of insensitivity
towards animals, and my increasing needto contribute more than just academic
papers to the world, I realized my role was
not just to be a scientist but to be a scientistadvocate for the animals I studied. At thattime, I gave up all research with captive
animals (continuing my neuroanatomicalwork) and eventually, in 2011, created The
Kimmela Center for Animal Advocacy,74

a nonprofit organization focused onproviding professional opportunities andguidance for young academic scholaradvocates who want to pursue careers inscience as animal advocates. ThroughKimmela we show students that being ascientist is not equivalent to conducting
coercive and invasive research and that
there is no inherent conflict between
studying animals and being their advocate.
And in 2016 I founded the Whale Sanctuary
Project and brought together marine
mammal scientists and other experts fromall over the world to work on the mission ofcreating the first permanent sanctuary forcaptive belugas and orcas in North America.
We are now working towards permitting
for our chosen sanctuary site – Port Hilford
Bay in Nova Scotia. With the sanctuary wewant to instantiate a different and more
respectful relationship with dolphins
and whales than is currently typified inentertainment parks.
We have a long way to go before the world
is a fair place for other animals and thepeople who want the world to be that way.
But many of my colleagues – men andwomen alike - are becoming more activein scholar-advocacy for other animals.
And we work together for a time when no
student is bullied into making a choice
between a moral rock and hard placeand more animal advocates can enter theacademic sciences to shape the future forothers – human and other-than-human.
If you want to know more please go to
kimmela.org or whalesanctuary.org.
Leckie, M. (March 8, 2020). Grappling with taking the
lives of mice for laboratory research. The Varsity.
[https://thevarsity.ca/2020/03/08/grappling-with-takingthe-lives-of-mice-for-laboratory-research/?fbclid=IwAR
3Qy4AnIwVr4Filv19TG6egfKmUKgu6rwjGdzpo1tnMD
4pskquEv1O4oE]
Marino, L. (October 2, 2019). What I learned from
Clint the Chimpanzee. Blog for The Kimmela Center
for Animal Advocacy. [https://www.kimmela.
org/2019/10/02/what-i-learned-from-clint-the-chimpanze
e/?fbclid=IwAR3ERT3LZazaqXkGuqbIUIEqhhUCtgHSllN-chMOIgcs39Nsa4_8KwPpz0M]
Reiss, D. & Marino, L. (2001). Mirror self-recognition in
the bottlenose dolphin: A case of cognitive convergence.
Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences, 98(10),5937-5942. DOI: 10.1073/pnas.101086398

BRE AK ING THE SURFACE WOMEN OF CETOLOGY

Top: Lori educating children in Florida
Photo courtesy of Ursula Schwuttke.
Middle: Lori and Executive Director Charles
Vinick scoping out sanctuary sites on the water.
Photo courtesy of Sue Lowe Henry.
Bottom: Lori gives a lecture in Florida.
Photo courtesy of Ursula Schwuttke.

The MareCet team during field work to collect data on Indo-Pacifichumpback dolphin social structure and acoustics, Kuala Perlis,
Malaysia, September 2019. Photo courtesy of Louisa Ponnampalam.

I

was born
into a regularaverage-income
family in Malaysia, adeveloping country
situated at theheart of Southeast
Asia, a melting potof ethnicities andculture, and a centerof global biodiversity.
My father worked
as an accountant,

Although
They Laughed at Me,

I Dolphinitely
Carried On
Louisa Ponnampalam

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75

Louisa Ponnampalam Cont.

and my mother, a trained nurse who decided
to become a homemaker so that she could
raise my sister and I. Both my parents aren’t
exactly the adventurous outdoorsy type of
people, but they did ensure that both Katrina
and I had opportunities to spend time innature – we had family trips to the beach,waterfalls and also the rainforest.
Our family has lived just outside the capital
city of Kuala Lumpur ever since my parents
married. However as my father had work
projects on the east coast of Peninsular
Malaysia, we would spend most of our school
holidays by the sea, playing on the beach andsplashing around in the shallow surf. It wason those trips that my love for the sea andmarine life began, as far back as when I was
6 years of age. I recall as a kid, my motherwould have trouble getting me to leave thebeach to go back to our hotel room, andthereafter, she would have trouble getting
me to get showered and wash off all thatsand between my toes and on my body. As I
grew older, around the age of 10, I remember
standing at the beach during one of thoseschool holiday trips, the waves lapping at mytoes while I looked out to the horizon at sea,
and thought to myself that someday, I will
not be fit for a conventional office-based job. I
would need to work in a field that lets me feelso free and invigorated, just like how I felt atthat moment in time. Sometime in that year, I
began keeping a scrapbook of any newspaper
articles about marine life. One day, mymother showed me an article about coral
reefs; in this article was a picture of a SCUBA

76

diver hovering over a large table coral. I recall
that the caption of the picture said something
about a marine biologist inspecting the coral,
and upon seeing that, I turned to my motherand told her that I wanted to become amarine biologist when I grow up. Did I reallyknow at the time what marine biologists do?
No. But was I serious about this ambition that
I had just blurted out to my mother? Yes.
During my primary school years, there wasa subject that was taught called Alam dan
Manusia, which basically translates to ‘Man
and the Environment’. It was the one subject
that I truly loved at school. It was the onethat first taught me about the 3Rs and how tocare for the environment. However, it is a pitythat since 1995, this subject was discontinued
in our national schools. Nonetheless, I
carried on into secondary school with anever-growing passion for the environment,
especially all things marine. When I becamea teenager, I started having an obsession
with dolphins. There was something socharismatic about dolphins that attracted me
to want to know more about them. I became
rather “infamous” for this obsession as I had
all things dolphin – I had dolphin-themed
accessories and clothings, all sorts of dolphin
figurines, dolphin plush toys (though I wasnever a fan of plush toys), dolphin-themed
notebooks, bags, place mats, posters, and aschool desk plastered with dolphin pictures
torn out from the calendar of the year before.
I was the only one in my whole school, andprobably other schools in the district, withthis crazy obsession. In school, I became

BRE AK ING THE SURFACE WOMEN OF CETOLOGY

known as “dolphin girl” – a phrase that I still
get referred to these days when I bump into
an ex-school mate I have not seen in decades.
At 13 years of age, I decided that I wanted toundertake my university studies in Hawai`iand that I wanted to study marine biology
and then onward to a specialization indolphin research. Why Hawai`i? Well, I
figured it is a beautiful place (my perceptions
were mainly influenced by watching
Baywatch and Hawaii Five-O at the time),
so why only go for a short vacation andthen leave when I can be there for extended
periods of time. I had this grand dream
built up in my mind – go abroad for mytertiary education, obtain all the skills
and knowledge about marine biology anddolphins while there, and return to Malaysia
thereafter to establish my very own research
institute and partake in nation building.
With tenacity, I pursued this ambition. In
my final year of secondary school, this was
1999, while all the other students were busy
preparing for the ultimate examination of
our schooling lives, I was busy applying
to the University of Hawai`i at Hilo andharassing my teacher at school for lettersof recommendation. I did not even have acontingency plan – the young and ambitious
me simply decided that if I did not get
accepted into UH-Hilo, then only would I
think of where else I would like to apply to.
My loving parents have always supported
my dreams from the start, even if it was suchan alien concept to them. They never did
fall into the typical mould of Asian parents

Left: Louisa in the field.
Right: Louisa’s first time since returning home andbeginning her work as a qualified cetacean scientist,
delivering a public lecture in Malaysia on marine
mammals, at the Langkawi Nature Festival, Langkawi
Island, Malaysia, November 2012.
Photos courtesy of Louisa Ponnampalam.
Page 76: Highly energetic group of Irrawaddy dolphins
engaging in gregarious hunting of prey, observed
during MareCet field surveys in Matang, Malaysia.
Photo credit to The MareCet Research Organization.

who ensured that their children must study
subjects such as law, medicine, engineering
or accountancy. I am sure that they had theirworries because what sort of future was there
for a Malaysian daughter returning homewith a marine biology degree? In fact, when
my parent’s friends heard about my plans,
they told me that “it was a shame” that I was
not using my good grades from school topursue Medicine or Law. Many of them also
teased me and laughed, saying things suchas, “You won’t have any job opportunities
when you return to Malaysia”, “Are thereeven dolphins in Malaysia for you to study
next time?”, and “Why not study something
more relevant and important?” Theircomments irked me, but knowing that I had
my parent’s blessings, I carried on.
By the Fall of 2000, at the age of 17, I wasenrolled at UH-Hilo in their Marine
Science programme. I was the firstamongst my peers to leave home foruniversity abroad. My father traveled withme on my maiden trip to Hawai`i and weboth attended orientation week together.
Hilo, as we discovered, is nothing at all
like the Hawai`i that we saw on television(which is mostly Honolulu). What is a 17
year-old so-called city girl going to do insuch a small and quiet town that rained
all the time (wasn’t Hawai`i all about sea
and sunshine?)? And then it hit me – I was
now thousands of miles from home, in adifferent country with different culture, ina seemingly deserted town where manythings were unfamiliar to me and I was
simply a naïve teenager from Malaysia
with some crazy dreams. Had I made a
mistake? Did I take this dream too far? Inthat orientation week itself, I was utterly
homesick and on several occasions, felt
like I should just pack up and go home.
My father, being the ever kind man that

he is, said to me, “Do you really want to go
home? You can, if that is really what you
want. But, you’ve come this far.” My father
was the sole breadwinner of the family
and he had saved up all that he could toafford me this dream of studying marine
biology in Hawai`i. I couldn’t just throw it
all away simply because I was homesick,and so I decided that I will give it a go. But
with that, on the day that my father was
supposed to fly home to Malaysia, I refused
to look at him, because I was afraid I would
crumble. Eventually, life as a student at
UH-Hilo was wonderful and Hilo itself
grew on me. It was not until a beautiful
morning kayak in 2001 in Kealakekua Bay,on the lee of the island, that I saw my very
first live (and wild) dolphins. They werespinner dolphins – the species that I would
go on to study for my PhD.
Fast forward to 2004, my enquiries for a
post-graduate study position landed me
in Scotland at the then University Marine
Biological Station in Millport, a centuriesold research facility on the windy Isle of
Cumbrae that belonged to the Universityof London (I know, it’s complicated!).
Bestowed with a prestigious Commonwealth
Scholarship, I was given the opportunity
to study the ecology of small cetaceans,particularly spinner dolphins, in the
Sultanate of Oman. I had never heard of
Oman before this! When my friends andrelatives found out that I was headed to theMiddle East for my PhD sampling, they
were all concerned, naturally, because the
Iraq War was ongoing, and there I was
seemingly headed to a region of turmoil tostudy dolphins! I quickly found that Oman
is a beautiful country which has kept a
lot of its authenticity in the face of rapid
modernization, and with a most friendly
populace whom I found to be kind andgenerous. Still today, I am grateful for theexperience and the majestic waters of the
Sultanate of Oman remains to be the place
where I have seen most of the cetacean
species I have seen in my whole life.
My life as a PhD student was difficult, as
I worked very remotely most of the timeand often did not get the academic support
that I needed. However, I will pay tributeto Gianna Minton who provided me witha lot of moral support and helped mefrom her base in Sarawak, Malaysia, asmuch as she could. On many occasions,
I wanted to quit my doctoral studies as I
felt I wasn’t equipped to do the research. I
felt I wasn’t good enough and I believed I
was becoming a total failure at this crazy
dream I started about a decade before. One
day, my father said to me, “You can quit,
it is your life, but what would you haveafter this? And what would become of thisdream that you are so close to achieving?”
That brought me straight out of that pity
corner in which I sat, in the puddle of tears.
In 2008, I officially completed my PhD,
aged 26. So, this was it - that moment I had
worked towards, the moment I had played
in my mind over and over again, thatchildhood dream coming true. I was now
officially a dolphin researcher.
I returned to Malaysia thereafter, armed withthis PhD, wearing rose-tinted glasses andwith a head and heart full of enthusiasm. I
was ready to serve Malaysia by helping herbuild up the field of marine mammal science.
When I was growing up in the 1990s and2000s and obsessing over dolphins, I had
found that the information on dolphins in
Malaysia was rather limited, and so I had
always known that I want to contributeto that vast knowledge gap. My first job
was as a postdoctoral researcher at a local
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77Louisa Ponnampalam Cont.

university. Whilst I was excited, I was also
nervous, because I had been away from
Malaysia for nearly a decade and I suddenly
felt like a stranger to how systems workin my country. I had to reconnect withmy writing proficiency in our national
language, Bahasa Malaysia, and I had tofigure out where to begin a career in dolphin
research and conservation in this place I
called home. I did not know anyone in thelocal government agencies, nor did I reallyhave many contacts in the local marine
science field, and nobody knew me. So I
started by writing letters of introduction tovarious government departments that were
to be of relevance to the work I want to do.
I expressed in these letters my enthusiasm
and intentions to help with nation building
and requested to be included in any
relevant roundtable discussions on matterspertaining to marine life. On several
occasions, I found that I was still not invited
to some of those meetings and realized that
I needed to knock on doors till they opened.

Top: Learning how to cut open a beach-castdolphin to extract its stomach for stomach
contents, pictured here with Ken Findlay, Masirah
Island, Oman, February 2006.
Middle: Louisa with her father at a UH-Hilofreshman orientation week field trip to Akaka Falls,
Hawai`i, August 2000.
Photos courtesy of Louisa Ponnampalam.
Bottom: Rare capture of the face of a surfacing
elusive Indo-Pacific finless porpoise, observed
during MareCet field surveys in Langkawi Island,
Malaysia, where it appears to be one of the bestplaces in Southeast Asia to sight this species.
Photo credit to The MareCet Research Organization.
Page 79: A pair of young adult Indo-Pacifichumpback dolphins observed during MareCet fieldsurveys in Matang, Malaysia.
Photo credit to The MareCet Research Organization.

78

When I finally did get invited to a meeting, I
was met with some resistance and hostility.
Many of the meetings at the time were
dominated by men and there I was a young
woman in her late 20s, graduated with a
PhD, and unfortunately not of a certain race
(a topic I shan’t elaborate here). Some ofthese men did not want to acknowledge mypresence and some tried to indicate that I
was “trying to tell them how to do their job”,
when in reality, I just wanted to contributemy knowledge on marine mammals to help
fill gaps in the country. It was then that I
realized that I needed to understand how
the local system works and how to dancewith the right steps in this arena. It was
tiresome and often demoralizing, but I had
to keep trying to get a breakthrough into thispurported circuit. I had to show them that
I was a patriotic Malaysian with a lifelong
dream of helping to serve my country, andthat I was here to stay.
On the very first research grant that I
tried to apply for to kickstart my first
dolphin research project in Malaysia, I was
dismissed by a highly regarded professor
from whom I had gone to seek pointers.
This professor plainly said to me that I
should “go and do proper science” and that
“this dolphin-watching interest should be
kept as an annual hobby.” Right at thatvery moment, I was overcome with shock,anger and disgust. How could someone as
educated and esteemed as this professor

BRE AK ING THE SURFACE WOMEN OF CETOLOGY

think so little of my ambition to do marine
mammal science? I allowed myself 24 hoursof anger and then I channeled that anger
into a source of fuel to prove the professor
and any other naysayers wrong. I also soon
discovered that the awareness of the basic
fact that dolphins occur in Malaysia wasincredibly low. Many people I came into
contact with were often in disbelief when
I told them that I studied cetaceans in
Malaysia. They often thought that cetaceans
found in Malaysia were just passing throughfrom colder waters. I knew then I had to do
more than just research.
I went on my first national oceanographic
research cruise expedition in 2009, where
I took the opportunity to collect data on
marine mammal occurrence in the offshore
waters of the Malaysian South China Sea. I
boarded the expedition, not with any fancy
equipment such as a CTD, but merely with apair of binoculars and a DSLR camera. Overthe duration of this cruise, once again, I wasconstantly teased and laughed at for being
the crazy person observing vast tracts ofempty sea daily. I was also the only female
onboard in a leading role and was still a“newbie” in the local marine science circuit,and as such, was hardly acknowledgedby many of the other male academics
throughout much of the cruise.
In 2012, I co-founded The MareCet Research
Organization together with a kindred
spirited guy named Fairul Izmal, much to the
doubt of various parties. Once again, when
Fairul and I shared with peers on our idea of
establishing MareCet, there were some wholaughed us off and told us we were not goingto succeed, that we were better off joining
forces with existing NGOs. We pressed on
anyway, and our organization is Malaysia’s
first and only non-profit NGO dedicated to
the research and conservation of marine
mammals and their habitats. We have since
established conservation-based research
projects on small cetaceans across two sites
on the west coast of Peninsular Malaysia
and we established a dugong research andconservation project on the east coast by wayof a Pew Fellowship in Marine Conservation
awarded to me in 2014. When I was
nominated for the Pew Fellowship, I didn’tknow that it was something very prestigious
and a recognition of one’s excellencein marine conservation, not until someinternational colleagues told me how big ofa deal it was. Later that year, the Malaysian
government, in recognition of my being

awarded the Pew Fellowship, awarded mewith the National Premier Youth Award. In
2013, MareCet organized the Third Southeast
Asian Marine Mammal Symposium(SEAMAM III), a huge feat for a young andbare-bones organization. Post-symposium, I
was so surprised when I received an e-mailfrom Randy Reeves, with an invitation
to become a member of the IUCN SSC
Cetacean Specialist Group. I thought: “Wasthis really happening?” In disbelief, yet very
excitedly, I accepted his invitation with somuch gratitude and honour.
I have grown so much, both as a researcher
and a conservationist, and I owe thisunexpected career success to my family,
close friends, colleagues and a stellar team.
MareCet has gone on to recruit and train
up-and-coming Malaysian marine mammal
researchers and conservationists, we havevarious types of outreach and awarenessprogrammes, we have contributed tovarious national government policies(invited to do so without having to knock on
doors anymore), and all our three field sites
are now recognized as IUCN Important
Marine Mammal Areas (IMMAs). Our
efforts on the dugongs prompted the local
government to propose a Dugong Sanctuary

to be established, for which MareCet
drafted its management plan. As of thiswriting, the Sanctuary is pending Federal
government gazette. I have also provided
mentorship to young and rising cetacean
scientists and conservationists in Thailand,
Vietnam and Myanmar. Since 2019,
MareCet has established Malaysia’s very
first research project dedicated to the studyof large baleen whales.
When I was 13, I dreamt of becoming adolphin researcher with my own research
institute in a country where marine science
was in its infancy and that is what I thought I
would do for the rest of my adult life. I neverimagined that I would scale such heights,
end up studying dugongs and whales as well,
become a mentor and trainer to so manyother young and aspiring women and men,or be working with local communities tomake conservation possible. While there
are still Malaysians who are unaware of
the presence of cetaceans in our waters,
many are now aware, and many of them
report sightings of live or dead cetaceans
and dugongs to us. However, my mission is
not yet complete, for there are many morecetacean and marine conservation issues totackle, knowledge gaps to fill and a bigger

multidisciplinary team to build to undertake
those increasing tasks. There is also still apending Dugong Sanctuary to see to fruition.
In 2013 and 2014, the world lost
two amazing marine scientists
and conservationists in Kanjana
Adulyanukosol and Choo Chee Kuang, andI lost two conservation icons who mentored
and inspired me. Grief overcame me, but it
is in their memory and honour that I have
had the strength to carry on trying to do
my part for science and conservation inwhat are otherwise very challenging andunderappreciated fields of work. I also owea huge part of this journey to Ellen Hines,
who has believed in me (and many other
Asian cetologists) since the day we firstmet in 2008 on her project in Thailand,
and to the late John Reynolds III who wasa calming voice of guidance. I am forevergrateful for the privilege and opportunity
to have collaborated with him.
Indeed, there were many who laughed atme, but I dolphinitely carried on. So justremember, you can too, if you persevere anddon’t give in to the naysayers. Oh, and don’t
forget to pay it forward just as how others
would have helped you.
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79

I

From Arctic
Crashes toConserving
the Vaquita:

Adventures of a
Marine Mammal
Biologist
Barbara Taylor
Page 81: Left: Barb checking cameras in thereplacement Twin Otter plane the year after her
plane crash.
Top: Discussing the vaquita crisis with (left toright) Carlos Slim, Mexican President Peña Nieto,
Barb and Leonardo DiCaprio.
Bottom: Barb with vaquita painting “In our hands”.
Photos courtesy of Barbara Taylor.

80

BRE AK ING THE SURFACE WOMEN OF CETOLOGY

have been most fortunate to have
had fantastic and varied experiences
throughout my career as a marine mammal
scientist. My first project I joined fellow
hippies at the Evergreen State College in 1977 to
study the effects of polychlorinated biphenyls
on harbor seal reproductive success. This
group went on to found Cascadia ResearchCollective, which continues to influence ourfield. I spent a year of my life living on the ice
counting bowhead whales. Little did any of us
realize that climate change would mean our
experience wouldn’t happen again in many
lifetimes. Among my experiences were somemore harrowing ones, I’ve survived polar
bear attacks and plane crashes into the Arctic
Ocean.
In my first year of bowhead research, the ice wasso thick it choked the Bering Straits and blocked
the bowhead migration. My boyfriend and I
walked about a mile from camp to photographthe midnight sun. When we clambered up theridged ice to get a good view, we saw a polar bearsauntering our way. We tried to fire our rifle
into the air to frighten the bear, but it was so cold
the firing pin didn’t move fast enough to trigger
the explosion. The next 20 minutes we faced
the charging bear, trying our best to act very unseal-like. Eventually our yells were heard andwe were rescued. I also survived a plane crashinto the Arctic Ocean. Even this trauma did
not dissuade me from continuing as a marine
mammal biologist. I wanted to do more thangather data. I wanted to design projects, carrythem out and analyze and publish the results.
So I switched to a more analytical bent during
my PhD. By then, around 1990, the biodiversity
crisis was obvious. I was interested in how
to treat scientific uncertainty in a timely
manner to allow needed management actions.
Treatment of uncertainty formed key elements
in developing, with colleagues, the Potential
Biological Removal amendments to the Marine
Mammal Protection Act. I worked withco-workers to develop criteria to use genetic
data to delineate Units to Conserve for boththat Act and the Endangered Species Act. At
an international level we are still working toincorporate precaution in key elements used in
the IUCN red list assessments.
My work with vaquita has allowed me tocombine the field and analytical aspects ofmarine mammal science to make the sciencestrong enough so that it has never been an
impediment to conservation. The vaquita
case also exemplifies the need for strong
collaborations with many professions ranging
from marine mammal science to sociologists,
economists, enforcement officials, engineers andpoliticians.
In all this work across different disciplines
and cultures, I never felt held back by being awoman. In fact, sometimes I had a surprisingadvantage. When we had to present ourshocking results to the Mexican Presidential
Committee to Save Vaquita that showed
the collapse of vaquitas as a result of illegal
fishing activities, I was asked to do the task.
In Mexico, older women are listened to andtreated with respect. Even though the fishingrepresentatives at the meeting were very
upset with our findings, I was not a person to
be shouted down—a fate my male colleagues
would have faced.
As in all things in our profession, persistence
and passion pay off. I didn’t go back tograduate school until I was 30. It was hardto give up a good paying job and challenge
myself to learn computer modeling, in which
I had absolutely no experience. But thegraduate training made me a much better
thinker and versatile scientist. I didn’t get
my first permanent job until I was days fromturning 40. Such jobs are even harder tocome by these days and make having many
tools in your toolbox even more important.
I feel like I stepped onto the stage at a mostfortuitous time when barriers for women
were dropping. Women had control of
their bodies and their bank accounts. As
I write this essay, I feel more uncertainty
than ever before about whether I was

lucky to have experienced a temporary
improvement for women or whether thoseopportunities marked a permanent social
shift. Like many, I was shocked that 52% ofwhite women in the USA could have voted
for a misogynist as leader of their country.
I had taken for granted that feminism was
the norm, that our success in our careers
was evidence that women were far morethan mothers and nurturers. I wondered
why women of color voted so differently
from white women. Could it be that white
women had not felt the consequencesof sexism as starkly as women of color?
Had our white privilege blinded us to
how recent our gains have been and how
tenuous these gains still are.
My sister managed to do it all. She had afamily and a very successful career as an
English professor. I think that is possible,
but even harder to do successfully inmarine mammal biology. I spend months
each year in the field and traveling. I
even feel guilty about how much time myhusband and I spend away from our pets!
The work/life balance is very difficult for
women and the current political climate
makes clear just how precarious what has
been achieved for women truly is.
I have so many colleagues, both male andfemale, that have had huge impacts on mycareer. While I have not felt insurmountablebarriers because of my sex, I also have strong

self-confidence that I sense has helped mein not always obvious ways. I often witness
my female colleagues being interrupted
when they are speaking or having their ideas
picked up only after a male voices them. I try
to pipe up and say, “Actually, that was Dana’s
idea and I agree it is a good one.” Changing
human behavior takes time. All of us, men
and women, need to speak up when we seecolleagues making such errors.
What I would like to see as our marine
mammal field continues to mature is a higher
proportion of women who choose to havefamilies being able to maintain their careers.
As long as I have been in this field, there havebeen more than 50% women in the under
30-year-old age bracket. Sadly, there are farless than 50% in the 40 and older bracket
and I think this reflects issues that remainharder for women. There needs to be betterand more-affordable child care, relationshipsthat truly share family care and programs
to train women back into the workforce ifsome years are taken off to focus on families.
Such changes will be self-promoting as
more women with families are able to fulfill
leadership roles in their post-child-rearing
ages. Science and society will be much thericher by extending the opportunities I have
had to everyone.
This disclaimer informs readers that the views,
thoughts, and opinions expressed in the text belongsolely to the author, and not necessarily to theauthor’s employer, organization, committee or othergroup or individual.

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81

A Lifetime ofMarine Mammal
Studies
Christina LockyerF

rom the earliest time I can remember, I always dreamedof being a marine biologist when I grew up. This was
inspired largely by the magnificent films by Jacques
Cousteau and the Hans and Lotte Hass series of underwater
nature films that were so popular on television when I was a child.
My first experience of the underwater world was at age 13, when I
persuaded my anxious parents to let me go scuba diving when we82

BRE AK ING THE SURFACE WOMEN OF CETOLOGYwere on holiday at the seaside town called
Swanage in Dorset, England. After that time,
I quickly signed up for a scuba course andthen joined as a junior member of the local
British Sub-Aqua Club based at Kingstonupon-Thames. From then on, I was hookedon the watery world and spent most of myspare time joining other divers on wreck
dives off the southwest coast of England andreading more and more about the marine
world that I was observing at close hand.
After my final year at school, I enrolled at
the then new University of East Anglia tojoin a Biology course which was consideredsomewhat revolutionary in its approach tothe subject at that time. Indeed the first year I
did very little biology and did mainly maths,
biophysics, biochemistry, statistics, computerscience, etc, and finally in the next 2 years
some very hands-on biology. I took specialist
courses in the final year on Ecology focusing
on Ecosystems, Limnology, Oceanography
and Fisheries. My final year project was a
study on diurnal movements and feeding
behaviour of starfish that required scuba
diving several times a day under a pier in
Swanage, often at night. My penultimate
study year I took a summer job at the Whale
Research Unit based at the British Museumof Natural History in London and it was here
for the first time I encountered those whom
I would later regard as my mentors andguides in whale biology: Niel Mackintosh – aveteran scientist from the South Georgia and“Discovery” investigations in the 1920s, Ray
Gambell, and Sidney Brown. I spent thatsummer cutting and treating sperm whale
teeth and then counting growth layers inthem for age.

After I graduated, my first job took me towork with the then Royal Naval Scientific
Service in Portsmouth at their Physiological
Laboratory in Alverstoke. I worked with ateam of researchers who were developing
safer decompression tables for divers. I
had to travel a very long distance to workand after a flood and storm swept thecountryside in 1968, most of the railway
line was demolished by a landslide. I could
no longer travel daily to work and, being
recently married, did not want to relocate.
However, I was lucky enough to be offereda position back at the Whale Research Unit
in London, but this time I was to directly
assist Niel Mackintosh who was researching
the life cycle and distribution of krill in the
Antarctic. I worked with him for 4 years
before he died in 1973. He was an amazing
man and I learned so much from him. He
encouraged me to do my Master’s degree
while working, a practice that is tough, butwell worth it. In 1972, I presented my thesis[i](later published[ii]) under the guidance ofNiel Mackintosh. My external examiner
was Richard Laws. It included my first soleauthor paper on the age at sexual maturityof fin whales using the ear plug[iii]. This
was not my first paper however, as I was a
co-author with Ray Gambell on a paper on
age in sperm whales[iv] in 1967, even before I
had graduated. Looking back now, I can seethat these events were indicative of my future
destiny. Age determination has been a majorpart of my work ever since.

first indications that age at maturity had
been declining in the exploited southernhemisphere whale stocks[v]. I also had myfirst taste of whale aerial surveys aboard
a Twin-Otter aircraft piloted by Ken
Pinkerton, a S.African pilot, and vesselbased tagging work in the Indian Ocean
onboard chartered whale catcher vessels“C.G.Hovelmeier” and “Peter Molenaar”
in the early 1970s. The vessels were fromthe whaling company then operating off
the Bluff in Durban, South Africa. Their
vessels were former Norwegian whaling
vessels that had operated in the Antarctic.
It was during these cruises that I made theacquaintance of Peter Best, a long-termcolleague who died only a few years ago. In
those days we still used “Discovery” tags,
designed to be retrieved once the whale wascaught and butchered, thus informing about
survival and also migratory movements.
Use of these of course has ceased becauseof the global decline and stopping ofwhaling activities. The vessels were crewedby Norwegian skippers/gunners with
Norwegian first mates and Norwegian or
English radio operators. During the chasingof whales, the vessel used ASDIC – a formof sonar that caused the whales to “run,” butit was a way of tracking them underwater.
This is when I first became fascinated by thesperm whale deep-diving capabilities and,with the cooperation of the ship’s ASDIC
operator, was able to record how deep andfor how long the whales dove.[vi]My work continued on age determination inlarge baleen whales, especially investigating
the application of the “transition phase”
in the layering pattern to determine age
at sexual maturity. This work yielded the

I recall some humorous stories from thesedays. Once on a whale-tagging cruise, we
scientists were given a humorous speech
about emergencies and ship evacuation. (Nohumour in a real event that happened when

Christina with colleagues on a cetacean survey off
Indonesia in October 2015, supervised by Danielle
Kreb at Yayasan Konservasi RASI.
Page 82: Christina meeting belugas at Kamogawa
Sea World in Japan, December 2009.
Photos courtesy of Christina Lockyer.

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83Left: Christina sectioning teeth on a freezing microtome
in her home basement lab in Kongens Lyngby, Denmark,in 2003, after establishing her firm Age Dynamics.
Right: The stern view of the C G Hovelmeier, an exAntarctic whaling vessel, that operated off Durban during
the whaling years in S. Africa that ended in 1974.
Page 85: Christina standing by the stomachs of a fin
whale at the Icelandic whaling station Hvalur HF. The
stomach size was measured and the food inside sampled
and quantified for bioenergetic studies.
Photos courtesy of Christina Lockyer.

Christina Lockyer Cont.

one vessel was holed by a whale it was towing
back to port in a storm and very nearly sank!)
The Norwegian skipper (gunner) told us thaton his ship “. . . no women and children first
here; when I say jump, you jump (overboard),
because I will have jumped already.” Infact, he was the most accurate and efficientgunner I ever knew and was a really splendidman. It was then that I learned that to be an
efficient hunter, one must really love andunderstand the behaviour of one’s prey.
Many years later, I was to recall these days
again after I relocated to Norway in 2005.
Amazingly, I rediscovered by accident a
Norwegian colleague, Reidar Smedsrud,from my early years on whale catchers inSouth Africa (1973). He was the first matethen and was still active and in his late 80s
at the Sandefjord Whaling Museum, but ofcourse no longer whaling.
In demonstrating that age at sexual maturity
can be interpolated from the pattern ofGrowth Layer Groups[vii] (GLGs) in theear plug of fin and sei whales, I was able toshow that sexual maturation had declined
in some stocks in the southern hemisphereand that this appeared to be correlated with
exploitation. The results of these studies were
not greeted with belief but plain scepticism
by the world of whale biologists, some ofwhom thought that this was a fabricationthat would allow the Japanese whalers at thattime to claim that this would release more
food for the smaller minke whales which also
indicated a decline in age at maturation andfaster growth. At that time, it seemed to me
that science and politics were inextricably
mixed up and that anything that might
indicate an advantage for whaling would bediscredited. Further studies I undertook onother stocks of southern fin and sei whales(made possible through cooperation of84

the Japanese who made all their samples
I required available) indicated differencesin the dynamic response of stocks – linked
to population size and exploitation history.
Investigation of published literature showedthat terrestrial mammals respond in a
dynamic way to exploitation– more foodand space can mean faster growth andsexual maturation. Why would whales be
different? Reproductive rates also appeared
to be changing. Despite the early doubts
about this population dynamics work, thestudies provided a sound foundation for avaluable tool in the “transition phase” for use
in population biology and understanding
dynamics of population parameters.
These studies led directly to several
in-depth studies of the bioenergetics oflarge whale species; firstly in the southernoceans [viii] [ix] [x] [xi] [xii] [xiii], andlater on in the late 1970s and early 1980s
on large whales off Iceland, which I will
discuss later. If there were changes in age,
growth and reproductive parameters,
there had to be a firm basis in energetics
to support the findings. By the time I
had made some theoretical estimations
drawing on as much as was known at thetime for the southern hemisphere, whaling
for fin and sei whales had largely dwindled
or stopped. However, there was whaling
taking place in Iceland where it would bepossible to access samples I needed and to
take samples and measurements.
By 1977, the Whale Research Unit had been
relocated to Cambridge, to merge with theformer Seal Research Unit from Lowestoft,
to form the new Sea Mammal Research Unit
under the National Environment ResearchCouncil. We shared premises with the
British Antarctic Survey and shared theBRE AK ING THE SURFACE WOMEN OF CETOLOGY

same director, Richard Laws. My research in
Iceland began from this period commencing
in 1978 and aimed at calculating energy
consumption and utilisation in fin and sei
whales. This research which was mainly
based on information, samples, and datacollected from commercial catches (it was
one of the first to focus on this subject in large
cetaceans), and began long before modern
technology was developed sufficiently to help
monitor living animals. The efforts included
weighing complete animals in parts and,even with several teams of flensers to help
fulltime with the task, the work took many
hours, sometimes extending through morethan one or two changes of shifts of workers(each team took an 8 hour shift). However,this work was only possible through thesupport and cooperation of Kristjan Loftssonat Hvalur h.f. and the flensing foremen
and the flensers. The work resulted in a
wealth of data on body fat condition[xiv],
lipid composition[xv], body tissue chemicalcomposition, dietary intake, energy density,and anatomical measurements[xvi] which
together with oceanographic information
on plankton density and distribution, watertemperature and salinity, as well as factory
oil production figures, produced a picture of
how whales made a living in the surrounding
waters and where they stored the energy
consumed and how they utilised it[xvii].
One of the most surprising results fromthis study in Iceland was in studying fat
storage dynamics in fin whales. I undertooka field season in 1978 at Hvalfjordur anddid not return or complete my samplings
until 1981. During the break I had my firstchild. It was then, after analysing the data,that I discovered that monitoring fattening
during the feeding season was much more
complicated than previously thought.

There were also huge inter-year variations
in food availability affecting the amountof fat storage and this, in turn, affected
reproduction in the female[xviii]. This taught
me how important it is to always consider
the big picture and the ecosystem where
our study animal lives. The environment
can affect an animal in so many ways andmammals have an innate flexibility torespond to changing circumstances in their
biological parameters[xix].
Studies on free-living sociable bottlenose
dolphins in the wild off the British coast,
started in 1977, almost seemed not to feel
work, it was so exciting and such fun!
However, I think this was the first timeanyone seriously tried to monitor suchindividuals over a long period. It certainly
required energy and a love of being inwater and underwater in the cold for long
periods! There were a number of papers mycolleagues and I produced in the late 1970s
and in the 1980s. This certainly stimulated
a lot of new and fascinating work worldwide
on this topic[xx] [xxi] [xxii].
Following the Icelandic studies, I undertook
similar studies on smaller and smaller
cetaceans- from long-finned pilot whales
to porpoises. During the period of theearly 1990s, I was involved with fellow
researchers in the Faroe Islands in a large
comprehensive study of the pilot whaling
there. Results of the studies were publishedin an IWC Special Volume in 1995[xxiii].
During my time working in Denmark (19962003), I also became involved in running
two EC-funded projects to mitigate by-catchof harbour porpoises in the gillnet fisheries,
which resulted in the first operationaland effective use of acoustic pingers as
deterrents. The porpoise work also involved
hands-on research on individuals held in
Kerteminde, Denmark and monitoring their
growth, feeding, fattening, and behaviour
over several years from a young age from1997. This really was pioneering workwith colleagues in Denmark and was very
challenging and exciting[xxiv]. One of thetwo original animals is still alive and welland has even reproduced; the male died justa few years ago at an age of nearly 21 years.
My studies of bioenergetics in cetaceans
are brought together in a review paper thatemphasised the different life strategies of
species[xxv].

always tried to maintain a broad interest in
many aspects of marine mammal researchand the main areas I have worked in include
age determination, population dynamics,
growth and reproductive physiology, diving
behaviour and physiology, energy budgets
and fat storage and utilisation, sociabledolphin behaviour, and conservation andmanagement. I have been involved inmany studies that focus on validation ofage determination where it is important tobe able to interpret age in years preciselyfrom GLGs in ear plugs and teeth. Examplesof ear plug age validation include sei
whales[xxvi] and recently, humpback
whales[xxvii]. However, validation of age
from teeth has been very important ingrey[xxviii] and harp[xxix] seals, polar
bears[xxx], long-finned pilot whales[xxxi],
porpoises[xxxii], and belugas[xxxiii].

in dolphinaria, and swimming with dolphinsduring rescue work, tagging programmes
and monitoring sociable dolphins.

Over the years, my research has involvedme in fieldwork such as boat surveys in the
Indian Ocean, US east coast, Greenland,
Norway, Indonesia; sample collection
from strandings in the UK, Denmark,and from commercial catches at whaling
stations in South Africa, Iceland and out at
the subsistence “grindedrap” in the Faroe
Islands, endless laboratory work in many
places in the world, working with porpoises

Some of the obstacles I experienced wereat the start of my career. I should perhaps
mention that at the time I first started
working in the UK, women were only
paid 85% the salary of men, regardless ofqualifications. However, this was abolishedas discriminatory in my first year of working(1968). Often the first question I was asked
at job interviews was: “Okay, so you aremarried. When do you plan on having yourI have worked in government labs in
England, US, Japan, Norway and Denmarkand for international organisations such
as ASCOBANS and NAMMCO wherescience, management, and politics merge. I
have also taught marine mammal biology
courses fulltime in universities and have
had numerous students over the years.
Since January 2003, I have run my own
consultancy firm, Age Dynamics, based in
Denmark, focusing on age determinationin marine mammals, providing age data
for laboratories worldwide, and runningtechnical workshops for students wishing tolearn aging methods. Although retired fromfulltime employment now, I am still activein Age Dynamics and as a consultant.

Most of my research has centered on
cetaceans, but in the last 20 years, I haveincluded many other species including
carnivores - seals and polar bears. I have
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85Christina Lockyer Cont.

first child?” (At that time there were no
rules about maternity leave or payment andwomen were regarded as not taking a job
seriously). Indeed, I never really encounteredproblems in having children during myworking life and, in the days of Icelandic
fieldwork, I took them with me. During asabbatical, funded jointly by NOAA andthe Icelandic Marine Research Institute,the entire family relocated to San Diego for
2 years. I also recall that in general, women
were banned from research vessels in the
UK when I first began my career. When thiswas brought into question, because this rule
excluded several specialists needed onboard,the director of research at the institute where
I was then based at the time, who organised
the cruises, made sure he got two women
technicians onboard who were known not
to like each other. There were predictably
problems and he was then able to use thisas an example of why women onboard were
problematic and should be excluded fromcruises. Fortunately for me during thisperiod, this rule never affected me. When
I went onboard for surveys, it was always acommercial whale catcher and not in the UK!
Of course, young people starting out in thisfield today will be amazed at hearing this!
Other problems that have arisen over the86

years often involve conflicts of interest
between government policy and scientificadvice. In the whaling arena, I haveexperienced being a member of the ScientificCommittee of the International Whaling
Commission (IWC) with a membership ofless than 20 – and being the only female
member – to now, with a membership ofsometimes a few hundreds representing
approximately 89 governments, where
women are more commonplace. Even
after a period of nearly 50 years, althoughgovernments and politicians may now
publicly appear to pay more attention toscientific advice, important environmentally
related matters, indigenous matters, anddecisions that involve financial input, often
get side-lined if the facts are unpalatable.
I have even seen the attitude to whaling
swing from one extreme to the other; neither
extreme being based on scientific advice.
Following nearly 35 years of research,my time spent working as leader of
the Secretariats for two internationalorganisations with quite different goals initially ASCOBANS (1990-1996) and later
NAMMCO (2005-2015), gave me important
insights into the interplay of politics,
ethnic traditions, science, and public
opinion. This also brought into focus the

BRE AK ING THE SURFACE WOMEN OF CETOLOGY

importance of objectivity, listening to thefacts and considering the status quo when
making recommendations and providing
advice. Science, traditional knowledge, theenvironment/ecosystem, human safety,
humane hunting practices, as well as
politics are all factors in whaling, hunting,and marine mammal exploitation andconservation.
I personally have always tried to be
objective, thorough, and sound in method
and rational in my thinking. If I havesomething important to say, I will say iteven if it is not in step with other thinking.
Dialogue amongst diverse thinkers isimportant for understanding situations andhow they arise and may also help in finding
a compromise and solutions. We cannot
dismiss beliefs and practices just because
they do not fit our expectations.
Marine mammals are, for the most part,
inaccessible because of the environment
they live in and are often of huge sizethat is quite daunting. I consider that theearly researchers in the field of marine
mammalogy were usually very determined,
practical, and rather singular-minded
individuals who often had challenging goals
but had imaginative use of resources to gettheir answers. Many of them were also brave!

Left: Christina swimming with Beaky, a sociablebottlenose dolphin off the south coast of England in 1975.
Right: Christina participating in a sperm whale study
tracking whales using VHF tags off Andenes in northern
Norway in 2005.
Photos courtesy of Christina Lockyer.
Page 86: Left: The bisected and polished ear plug corefrom a fin whale, showing the Growth Layer Groups(GLG) - with markers - corresponding to annual growth
and thus age.
Photo courtesy of the Icelandic Marine Research Institute.
Right: Christina at the Icelandic whaling station Hvalur HF,
measuring blubber in a sperm whale, July 1981.
Photo courtesy of Christina Lockyer.

Christina Lockyer Cont.

Today, it has become comparatively easy toenter this field, find some project to work on
with specialist support from academia, andeven to find funding possibilities. The scopeof work aspects now feasible has broadened
incredibly with the development oftechnology - enabling researchers to monitor
and observe their subject remotely, relatively
safely, and accurately.
My impression is that over the last 50 plus
years, the tendency is for more women tocome into the marine mammal field - to theextent that occasionally, women outnumber
men. Women seemed to be a rarity in theearly days. Marine mammal research has
become increasingly a global topic, rather
than being limited to nations interested inwhaling and sealing.
[i] Lockyer, C.H. 1972. Thesis presented for the degreeof M.Phil., Royal Holloway College, London University.
[ii] Lockyer,C. 1981. Growth and energy budgets of large
baleen whales from the southern hemisphere. FAO
Fisheries Series (5) ‑ Mammals in the Seas 3:379‑487.
[iii] Lockyer, C. 1972. The age at sexual maturity ofthe southern fin whale (Balaenoptera physalus) using
annual layer counts in the ear plug. J.Cons.int.Explor.
Mer 34(2):276‑294.
[iv] Gambell, R. and Grzegorzewska, C. 1967. The rateof lamina formation in sperm whale teeth. Norsk
Hvalfangst‑Tidende 56(6):117‑121.
[v] Lockyer,C. 1974. Investigation of the ear plug of thesouthern sei whale, Balaenoptera borealis, as a validmeans of determining age. J.Cons.int.Explor.Mer
36(1):71‑81.
[vi] Lockyer,C. 1977. Observations on diving behaviour ofthe sperm whale. In, A voyage of Discovery, ed. M.Angel,pp.591‑609, Pergamon Press.
[vii] Lockyer,C. 1984. Age determination by means of
the ear plug in baleen whales. Rep.int.Whal.Commn
34:692‑696 and 683‑684.
[viii] Lockyer,C. 1976. Body weights of some species oflarge whales. J.Cons.int.Explor.Mer 36(3):259‑273.
[ix] Lockyer ,C. 1978. A theoretical approach to thebalance between growth and food consumption in fin
and sei whales, with special reference to the female
reproductive cycle. Rep.int.Whal.Commn 28:243‑249.

[x] Lockyer,C. 1979. Changes in a growth parameterassociated with exploitation of southern fin and sei
whales. Rep.int.Whal.Commn 29:191‑196.
[xi] Lockyer,C. 1981. Growth and energy budgets of large
baleen whales from the southern hemisphere. FAO
Fisheries Series (5) ‑ Mammals in the Seas 3:379‑487.
[xii] Lockyer,C. 1981. Estimates of growth and energy
budget for the sperm whale, Physeter catodon. FAO
Fisheries Series (5) ‑ Mammals in the Seas 3:489‑504.
[xiii] Lockyer,C. 1981. Estimation of the energy costs ofgrowth, maintenance and reproduction in the femaleminke whale, (Balaenoptera acutorostrata), from thesouthern hemisphere. Rep.int.Whal.Commn 31:337‑ 343.
[xiv] Lockyer,C. 1986. Body fat condition in northeast
Atlantic fin whales, Balaenoptera physalus, and its
relationshipwith reproduction and foodresource. Can.J.Fish.Aquat.Sci.43:142‑147.
[xv] Lockyer,C.,McConnell,L.C. and Waters,T.D. 1984.
The biochemical composition of fin whale blubber.
Can.J.Zool. 62:2553‑2562.
[xvi] Lockyer,C., McConnell,L.C. and Waters,T.D.
1985. Body condition in terms of anatomical andbiochemical assessment of body fat in North Atlantic
fin and sei whales. Can.J.Zool. 63:2328‑2338.
[xvii] Lockyer,C. 1987. Evaluation of the role of fat
reserves in relation to the ecology of north Atlantic fin
and sei whales. In, Approaches to Marine Mammal
Energetics, ed. A.C.Huntley, D.P.Costa, G.A.J.Worthy
and M.A.Castellini, pp.183‑203, Society for Marine
Mammalogy Special Publication No 1, 253pp.

[xxiii] Donovan, G.P., Lockyer, C.H. and A.R.Martin.
1993. (Editors). Biology of Northern Hemisphere pilot
whales. Rep.int.Whal.Commn (Special Issue 14),
Cambridge, 479pp.
[xxiv] Lockyer, C., Desportes, G., Anderson, K.,
Labberté, S., U. Siebert. 2003. Monitoring growth andenergy utilisation of the harbour porpoise (Phocoena
phocoena) in human care. NAMMCO Scientific
Publications volume 5:107-120.
[xxv] Lockyer, C. 2007. All creatures great and smaller:a study in cetacean life history energetics. J. Mar. Biol.
Ass. U.K. 87: 54-72.
[xxvi] Lockyer,C. 1974. Investigation of the ear plugof the southern sei whale, Balaenoptera borealis, as avalid means of determining age. J.Cons.int.Explor.Mer
36(1):71‑81[xxvii] Gabriele, C.M., Lockyer, C., Straley, J.M.,
Jurasz, C.M. and Kato, H. 2010. Sighting History of a
Naturally-marked Humpback Whale suggests Ear Plug
Growth Layer Groups are deposited Annually. Marine
Mammal Science 26(2):443-450.
[xxviii] Frie, A.K., Hammill, M.O., Hauksson, E., Lind,
Y., Lockyer, C., Stenman, O. and Svetocheva, O. 2012.
Error patterns in age estimation and tooth readability
assignment of grey seals (Halichoerus grypus): resultsfrom a transatlantic, image-based, blind-reading study
using known-age animals. ICES Journal of Marine
Science; doi:10.1093/icesjms/fss169.

[xviii] Lockyer,C. 1987. The relationship between bodyfat, food resource and reproductive energy costs innorth Atlantic fin whales (Balaenoptera physalus).
Symp.zool.Soc.Lond. 57:343‑361.

[xxix] Frie, A.K., Fagerheim, K.-A., Hammill, M.O.,
Kapel, F.O., Lockyer , C., Stenson, G.B., RosingAsvid, A. and Svetochev, V. 2011. Error patterns in age
estimation of harp seals (Pagophilus groenlandicus):
results from a transatlantic, image-based, blindreading experiment using known-age teeth. ICES
Journal of Marine Science 68(9), 1942–1953.

[xix] Lockyer,C. 1990. The importance of biologicalparameters in population assessments with specialreference to fin whales from the N.E.Atlantic. In,
Whaling Communities in the North Atlantic, North
Atlantic Studies 2(1 and 2):22-31.

[xxx] Christensen-Dalsgaard, S.N., Aars, J., Andersen,
M., Lockyer, C. and Yoccoz, N.G. 2010. Accuracy andprecision in estimation of age of Norwegian Arctic polar
bears (Ursus maritimus) using dental cementum layers
from known-age individuals. Polar Biol.33(5):589-597.

[xx] Lockyer,C. 1978. The history and behaviourof a solitary wild, but sociable, bottlenose dolphin(Tursiops truncatus) on the west coast of England andWales. J.nat.Hist. 12:513‑528.

[xxxi] Lockyer, C.H. 1993. A report on patterns ofdeposition of dentine and cement in teeth of pilot
whales, genus Globicephala. Rep.int.Whal.Commn(Special Issue 14):137-161.

[xxi] Lockyer, C. and M.Müller. 2003. Solitary, yetsociable. Pp. 138-150. In, Between species: celebrating
the dolphin-human bond, eds. Frohoff, T. and Peterson,
B., Sierra Club books, San Francisco, 361pp.

[xxxii] Bjorge, A., Hohn, A.A., Kvam, T., Lockyer, C.,
Schweder, T. and H.Aarefjord. 1995. Report from theharbour porpoise age determination workshop, Oslo,
21-23 May 1990. Rep.int.Whal.Commn (Special Issue
16):478-496.

[xxii] Lockyer,C. 1990. Review of incidents involving
wild, sociable dolphins, worldwide. In, The bottlenose
dolphin ed.J.S.Leatherwood and R.Reeves, pp.337-53,
Academic Press.

[xxxiii] Lockyer, C., Hohn, A.A., Hobbs, R. and
Stewart, R.E.A. 2016. Report on the workshop on age
estimation in beluga. Beaufort, North Carolina, US, 5-9
December 2011. NAMMCO Sci. Publ. 10. http://dx.doi.
org/10.7557/3.3731

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The Laboratoire d’Anatomie Comparée in Paris. No portrait of Friant could be found. We only have her signature
superimposed here. Photo: Gallica/BNF, MNHN.

First Surfacings:

The Early Women
Pioneers
Uko GorterW

hen I was asked to write anarticle about the first womenpioneers who contributed
to the study of whales, also known as‘cetology’, I gladly took on the task given
my keen obsession regarding the historyof this branch of zoology. However, it tookquite some sleuthing to find the needed
information.
The term ‘cetology’ was first coined by the
French naturalist Pierre Joseph Bonnaterre(1752-1804) in his Tableau Encyclopédiqueet Méthodique des Trois Règnes de la Nature,
Cétologie, in 1789. Noting the similar terms
already in existence for ornithology andichthyology. It is also the title of a chapter
in Moby Dick (1851), the famous novel by
Herman Melville, who takes the reader
momentarily away from the whaling
narrative into a dizzying but wonderful88philosophical discourse of the science ofwhales in the pre-Darwin era.
For centuries, the field of cetology (notunlike the cast of characters in Moby Dick,
including the whale) has been dominatedby men. Starting with Aristotle (384-322
BC), it was a branch of zoology that wasmade up by philosophers, compilers,
naturalists, ship-surgeons, systemizers,
museum directors, and anatomists,
all the way through the nineteenth
century. Many of their names are stillcommemorated in the scientific orcommon names of cetaceans, like Cuvier,Gray, Gervais, Hector, True, and Dall, toname a few. All men.
Although there are examples of womenin science throughout history, thesehave been far fewer than men. For many
centuries women were excluded fromBRE AK ING THE SURFACE WOMEN OF CETOLOGY

formal education and scientific institutions.
The role of the female gender in society
was mainly defined in the seventeenth andeighteenth centuries. It wasn’t until thelate 1800s when we see the emergence of
women’s colleges that we finally find more
women breaking through. Most notably, ofcourse, was Marie Curie. Now, what about
the first women who have made their markin cetology?

Madeleine Friant(1897- 19??)

The first names that came to my mind
were those of Barbara Lawrence andMelba C. Caldwell. However, I felt there
might possibly be others I overlooked, andso I consulted friends and colleagues. It
was our ACS friend and Scientific Advisor,
Tom Jefferson, who introduced me to theworks by a certain Madeleine Friant. To beBill Schevill and Barbara Lawrence examining a bottlenose dolphin. Photo: courtesy of the New Bedford Whaling Museum.

honest, I had never heard of her name andit launched me into an immediate quest tofind out more about her life and work.
Sure enough, a quick Google searchyielded a number of papers andpublications dating anywhere from the
1930s to the early 1970s. A more thoroughsearch through the Bibliothèque Nationale
de France (BNF), and by directly contacting
the Bibliothèque du Muséum Nationald’Histoire Naturelle in Paris, I was able tofind a bit more information. Most helpful
was a biographical note by Philippe
Jaussaud and Édouard-Raoul Brygoo in
Du Jardin au Muséum en 516 Biographies,
published in 2004.
Surprisingly, very little is known about
Madeleine Friant. We know she wasa French comparative anatomist andpaleontologist. A few sources list her yearof birth as 1897. However, no date of death
could be found. Nor could any photo of her
be located when I contacted the museumin Paris or searched French databases.
Madeleine passed a medic diploma in
1912, and served as a nurse for the French
Red Cross during the First World War.
She graduated with a Bachelor of Arts
degree and obtained a Bachelor of Science
degree in 1921. She then followed a medical
course in Strassbourg, crowned by the
defense of her doctoral thesis in 1927.
Young Madeleine took on the functionof a medical inspector for the schools in
the Moselle region. Shortly thereafter,
Madeleine became an intern at theLaboratoire d’Anatomie Comparée in Paris
under the directorship of Raoul Anthony.
A Rockefeller Foundation Scholar,
Madeleine would also teach lessons inzoological anthropology at the Ecoled’Anthropologie in Paris from 1931 to 1942.
Working very closely together withdirector Anthony, Madeleine specialized
in the dentition of both modern and fossil
mammals (including humans), but also
conducted research on the mammalian
neocortex. Anthony and Friant embraced
the Neo-Lamarckian theory, which
advanced the notion that acquired
characteristics are inherited.
Friant made significant contributions
regarding the determination, storage,
and cataloging of the collections at theLaboratoire d’Anatomie Comparée.
After Raoul Anthony’s death in 1941,
Friant would take on the position of
Associate Director and briefly headed
the department, but the full directorship
seemed to have eluded her. One quote in
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with her older sister took on the difficult
task of bringing up her three otheryounger siblings.
Soon after her graduation, Barbara
took the opportunity to volunteer at theHarvard Museum of Comparative Zoology(MCZ). Before long she worked closely
together with Dr. Thomas Barbour, theDirector of the Museum, and Dr. Glover
Allen, the Curator of Mammals. Bothmen encouraged and supported Barbara
in furthering her own research and toorganize an expedition to the Philippines
and Indonesia to study and collect bats forthe museum in 1936-1937.

Uko Gorter Cont.

the biographical note by Jaussaud andBrygoo is quite telling:“Elle laissa le souvenir d’une femmeénergique, douée d’un fort caractère qui
lui aliéna souvent les sympathies de sescollègues.” (She left the memory of anenergetic woman, endowed with a strong
character, which often alienated thesympathies of her colleagues.).
Understanding that her colleagues were
all male, this quote perfectly encapsulates
the prevailing attitude towards women inscience at that time. Unfortunately, theseviews still have a foothold in some circles
today.
Friant’s contributions with respect tocetaceans and marine mammals ingeneral, date back to about the late
1930s. Most of her publications on thecomparative anatomy of the cetacean
brain were conducted after World War II.

90

In total she published more than 100
articles, many as first or sole author. Her
most recent papers were dated from theearly 1970s. After which the trail goes coldand no further trace of what happened toMadeleine Friant towards the end of herlife could be found.

Barbara Lawrence (Schevill)(1909-1997)
Unlike Friant, far more is known about
Barbara Lawrence, who with her husband
William (Bill) E. Schevill, were pioneers
in the field of bioacoustics related tocetaceans.
Barbara Lawrence was born in Boston in
1909. She received her education at Winsor
School and Vassar College, where she
graduated in 1931.
Barbara’s parents died during her
sophomore year in college, and together

BRE AK ING THE SURFACE WOMEN OF CETOLOGY

She married William (Bill) Schevill in
1938, but kept her maiden name in her
professional life. At that time Bill Schevill
was librarian at the museum and Assistant
Curator of Invertebrate Paleontology.
Driving back from their honeymoon, theyencountered two pygmy sperm whales
stranded dead on a beach in Virginia.
They brought back the specimens for themuseum. Perhaps this event foreshadowed
their future interest in cetacean research.
After the death of Dr. Glover Allen in 1942,
Barbara became Associate and Acting
Curator of Mammals. In 1952 she would
be appointed as Curator of Mammals at
the MCZ, a position she held until her
retirement in 1976.
Barbara Lawrence closely assisted herhusband in the pioneering studies on
echolocation in whales and dolphins.
Together they produced the first-eversound recordings of whales. These
recordings were made of beluga whalesin the lower Saguenay River in Quebec,
Canada, in 1948 and 1949.

Barbara and Bill would expand theirinvestigative work to include the auditory
response in bottlenose dolphins. Thesestudies were conducted with captive
dolphins at Marineland of Florida in St.
Augustine, Florida. This facility was firstcalled Marine Studios, as it was solely
conceived as an underwater film studio in
1938 to safely film sharks, dolphins, andother marine life. However, it unexpectedly
attracted lots of public interest. Marine
Studios opened its doors and later changed
its name. There was also an immediate
scientific interest in studying dolphins inthis controlled setting.
Barbara and Bill would go on to publish a
number of papers on their acoustic work,
as well as important anatomical research
into the dolphin’s nasal structures in the
1950s. Many of their original whale anddolphin recordings were eventually madeavailable as a phonograph record produced
by Bill Schevill and his close collaborator,
Bill Watkins, in 1962.
In the obituary of Barbara Lawrence,
written by M. Rutzmoser in the Journal of
Mammalogy in 1999, Barbara is portrayed asboth a modest and proud person. However,the following quote struck as me as a bit off:
“Although her contributions to theunderstanding of cetacean morphology
were significant, she preferred to pass along
the credit and recognition to Mr. Schevill
in this his chosen field of research, a policy
which no doubt contributed to a long andhappy marriage”.

the Pacific would open in Palos Verdes,
California, in 1954. It was here that
Ken Norris got his start in the world ofmarine mammal science as Curator andsubsequently facilitating and working withvisiting scientists, including many women.
During this time we see more womencome on to the scene. They are part ofhusband and wife research teams, much like
Lawrence and Schevill.
Melba C. Caldwell (1921-1991) worked
closely with her husband David Keller
Caldwell (1928-1990). Melba received a
M.A. in zoology from the University ofCalifornia at Los Angeles. After her stint
as fishery research biologist with the U.S.
Bureau of Commercial Fisheries, Melba
joined the Allan Hancock Foundation of
the University of Southern California as
staff research associate. Melba Caldwell
became an assistant curator and directorof research at Marineland of Florida,working together with the then Curator
and Director, Forrest G. Wood.
Melba would go on to become research
associate in the Communications Sciences
Laboratory at the University of Florida.
Melba and her husband David performed
groundbreaking behavioral and acoustic
research that helped our understandingof individual recognition in dolphins. The
Caldwell’s discovered that dolphins haveindividual “signature whistles”.

Captive Studies

Around that same time, Margaret C.
Tavolga (1921-1991) and her husband,
William N. Tavolga (1922-2017) were also
attracted to the research possibilities
created by Marineland of Florida.
Margaret’s career was committed to alife of teaching. She was professor at
Fairleigh Dickinson University in New
Jersey. Her husband, Bill, was a pioneerin the field of sensory biology of aquatic
animals and marine bioacoustics. Lacking
a hydrophone in the early days, hefashioned an ordinary microphone with acondom (one makes-do). The Tavolgas, inparticular Margaret, published important
papers on epimeletic (care-giving)
behavior in bottlenose dolphins.

Seen through today’s lens, this may nolonger be palatable with modern readers, butthese captive studies are an inescapable andinextricable part of the history of cetology.

The Caldwells and the Tavolgas
pioneering behavioral studies showed thatdolphins were easily trained and capable
to perform complex behaviors. Others
would soon show interest in this ‘mind in
the water’, and cetology took a bizarre anddark turn.

I would like to think their mutual affection
and respect would have weathered any
feeling of perceived jealousy in taking credit.
Barbara Lawrence clearly deserves her placein the pantheon of cetologists.
As I mentioned, the early marine parks
established in the 1930s provided a uniqueand important opportunity to learn aboutdolphins. The captive setting facilitateda controlled environment in which to
conduct research that did not yet exist
in the wild. Viewing windows gave anunobstructed glimpse of their behavior
underwater.

After the success of Marineland of Florida,a second facility named Marineland of

Top: Melba and David Caldwell at Marineland of Florida.
Credit: Nat Fain/Marineland of Florida.
Bottom: Margaret Tavolga.
Photo: W.L Au, in Hearing by Whales and Dolphins.
Springer, 2000.
Page 90: Barbara Lawrence listening to dolphin
vocalizations at Marineland of Florida.
Photos courtesy of the New Bedford Whaling Museum.

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Uko Gorter Cont.

The Girl Who Talks
to Flipper

Another ‘Margaret’ would now enter
the stage, a young girl with no formal
education in biology or zoology. Margaret
Howe (1941- ) was working at a hotel onSaint Thomas (U.S. Virgin Islands) andlearned about a research lab on the islandthat kept dolphins. Her curiosity piqued,
she made her way down to the secluded
facility on the shore of Nazareth Bay, to
see this place for herself. Before long she
would be invited to partake as a volunteer
in the most unusual and controversial
research in the history of cetology.
The laboratory, known as theCommunications Research Institute (CRI),
was run by none other than John C. Lilly,
a neuroscientist with an interest in thebrain and cognitive abilities of the dolphin.
Lilly was also interested in the possible
communication with extraterrestrial life.
Why not start with dolphins?
Lilly obtained three dolphins from
Marineland of Florida through the
Director Forrest G. Wood. Both NASA andU.S. Navy showed much interest in Lilly’s
project and poured millions of dollars in
his new facility.

Top: Margaret Howe with ‘Peter.’
Photo by John Lovatt.
Bottom: Karen Pryor.
Photo courtesy of T. Golson.

92

In 1964, Margaret Howe would start
training sessions with a bottlenose dolphin
named Peter, in the hope to teach him
to speak English. As perceived progress
seemed encouraging, Margaret initiateda ‘chronic interaction’, and proposed
to live with Peter 24 hours a day. Lilly
was enthusiastic about the idea, and the
upstairs laboratory was flooded kneedeep to accommodate the dolphin andMargaret. A special elevator was built
to move Peter from the existing dolphin
pool below to the upstairs living quarters.
About nine months later, progress seemed
wanting. Lilly lost interest and focus,
as a hallucinogenic drug named LSD
made its entry in the scientific world.
While Margaret refused to take part inany experiments with drugs, Lilly would
administer it to himself while testing his
state of mind in an isolation tank. Soon
he would also administer LSD to some ofthe dolphins in the hope that they would
open up in their communication abilities.
Meanwhile Peter the dolphin would lose
focus too, as the young boisterous malebottlenose dolphin would show sexualurges. Margaret would eventually relieve

BRE AK ING THE SURFACE WOMEN OF CETOLOGY

his needs through manual stimulation tokeep the work going. Word slowly got out
to the scientific community, including the
Tavolgas, who wrote a scathing review of
Lilly’s new book “Man and Dolphin”.
Lilly’s project would gradually be defunded
and rejected by scientists. His reputation
diminished, Lilly would increasingly
immerse himself in the mystical realm,
and become a hippie cult figure of sorts.
Margaret left the laboratory but remainedon the island to start a family.
It would be well beyond the scope of thisarticle to expand on this saga, only to suggest
reading the chapter titled “Shots across thebow” in D. Graham Burnett’s phenomenal
work The Sounding of the Whale; Science andCetaceans in the Twentieth Century, where you
can read all the lurid details.

From Captive Studies
to the Open Ocean

As all this unfolded, a young woman
named Karen Pryor (1932-) endeavoredwith her, then husband, Taylor “Tap”
Pryor, to build an oceanarium in Hawaii.
Tap, who was studying sharks, dreamed ofa research facility modeled after Marine
Studios in Florida and Marineland of the
Pacific. They brought in Ken Norris asboth an advisor and research collaborator.
Soon dolphins were caught for bothresearch and display. When it came down
to find a dolphin trainer, Ken suggested
that Karen could do this. He recognized in
Karen a bright observant talent, and so she
started her career as ‘porpoise’ trainer in1964 at Sea Life Park.
Karen graduated from Cornell University(NY) and University of Hawaii. Known
as a ‘big picture thinker’, she quickly
understood that dolphins were adaptive
and able to be creative in developing novel
behaviors. These training sessions included
bottlenose dolphins, Hawaiian spinner
dolphins, and rough-toothed dolphins.
While the research and training were atfirst confined within the walls of a tank,interest in swimming behavior and speed ofdolphins by the US Navy, initiated the firstattempts to use a trained dolphin in the open
ocean. Karen was firmly convinced of theimportance of complementary simultaneousstudies of dolphins in both captive settings
as well as the studies in the wild. This was
specifically demonstrated during her studies
to investigate the dolphin behavior aroundpurse-seine fishery for tuna in the 1970s.

No doubt the studies by the Caldwells,
the Tavolgas, and yes, even the bizarre
work by Lilly and his volunteer assistant,Margaret, influenced and initiatedlegitimate scientific work into cetacean
communication, cognition and behavior.
The pioneering work by Karen Pryor,
encouraged by Ken Norris, set the stage forstudying dolphins in the wild.
As we enter the 1970s, many more amazing
women would enter the field of cetology
and proudly follow in the footsteps ofthe first pioneers, Madeleine Friant and
Barbara Lawrence. You can read some of
their stories in this special issue.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
My thanks to Tom Jefferson, Sally Mizroch,the Dale W. Rice Library, Quentin Orléan of
the Bibliothèque du Muséum in Paris, Terry
Golson, Heather Krumholtz of the Whitney
Laboratory in Florida, and the New Bedford
Whaling Museum, for their assistance,
photos, and advice.
My research was not exhaustive, and it
is possible I may have overlooked other
women from this early period, particularlyin the former Soviet Union. If you havemore information, I would like to hearfrom you (uko@ukogorter.com).
Burnett, D. G. (2012) The Sounding of the Whale;
Science and Cetaceans in the Twentieth Century.
University of Chicago Press.
Caldwell, M. C., & Caldwell, D. K. (1965).
Individualized whistle contours in bottle-nosed
dolphins (Tursiops truncatus). Nature, 207, 434-435.
Caldwell, M. C., & Caldwell, D. K. (1972). Vocal
mimicry in the whistle mode by an Atlantic
bottlenosed dolphin. Cetology, 9, 1-8.
Caldwell, M. C., & Caldwell, D. K. (1979). The whistleof the Atlantic bottlenose dolphin (Tursiops truncatus):
Ontogeny. In H. E. Winn & B. L. Olla (Eds.).
Caldwell, D. K., & Caldwell, M. C. (1972). The Worldof the Bottlenose Dolphin. Living World Books,
Lippincott Co.
Friant, M. (1936) La fosse sylvienne du Macrorhinus
leoninus L. Bulletin L’institute Oceonagraphique,
Monaco.
Friant (Madeleine), (1942). Exposé des titres et travaux
scientifiques, Paris : Hermann, 143 p. (bibliothèquecentrale du Muséum national d’histoire naturelle,
No. 5075).
Friant, M. (1947) Recherches sur le fémur desPhocidae. Bulletin du Musée Royal d’Histoire
Naturelle Belgique, 23, 1-51.
Friant, M. (1952). Le cerveau de foetus de Marsouin(Phocaena communis Cuv.). Compt. Rend. Acad. Sci.
Paris. 234, 243
Friant, M. (1953). Le cerveau du marsouin (Phocaena
communis Cuv.) et les caractéristiques fondamentales
du cerveau des cétacés. Acta Anat. 17:61-71.
Friant, M. (1955). Le cerveau du baleinoptère(Balaenoptera sp.) Acta Anat. 23:242-250.

The Caldwells examining a bottlenose dolphin. Photo: Marineland of Florida.
Friant, M. (1957). Un cerveau du foetus de Rorqual(Balaenoptera musculus L.). Compt. Rend. Acad. Sci.
Paris. 244, 236

Pryor, K. W., Haag, R., & O’Reilly, J. (1969). The
Creative Porpoise: Training for novel behavior. Journalof the Experimental Analysis of Behavior, 12(4), 653-661

Friant, M. (1958). Un stade de l’évolution cérébrale durorqual. Hvalrådets Skrifter. Norse. Vidensk. Oslo.
42:1-15

Pryor, K. W., Haag, R., & O’Reilly, J. (1967). Deuterolearning in a rough-toothed porpoise (Steno
bredanensis). U.S. Naval Ordnance Test Station Tech.
Publ. NOTS TP 4270.

Jaussaud, P. & Brygoo, E. R., Eds.(2004). Du Jardin au
Muséum en 516 Biographies. Publications scientifiquesdu Muséum.
Lang, T. G., & Pryor, K. W. (1966) Hydrodynamic
performance of porpoises (Stenella attenuata)
Lawrence, B. & Schevill, W. E. (1954). Tursiops as anexperimental subject. Journal of Mammalogy 35,
2:225-232
Lawrence, B. & Schevill, W. E. (1956). The functional
anatomy of the delphinid nose. Bulletin of the Museumof Comparative Zoology at Harvard. 114, 4:103-152
Lilly, J. C. (1975). Lilly on Dolphins: Humans of the Sea.
Anchor Press/Doubleday
Samuels, A. & Tyack, P. (2000). Flukeprints; A Historyof Studying Cetacean Societies. In Cetacean Societies,
Field Studies of Dolphins and Whales, Eds. Mann, J. etal., University of Chicago Press. pp. 9-44
Pryor, K. W. & Norris, K. S. (1991) Eds. Dolphins
Societies: Discoveries and Puzzles. University ofCalifornia Press.
Pryor, K. W. & Norris, K. S. (1978). The tuna/porpoiseproblem: behavioral aspects. Oceanus 21:2.
Pryor, K. W. (1975). Lads before the wind: Adventures in
Porpoise Training. NY Simon & Schuster.

Pryor, K. W. (1967) Sea Life Park and the Oceanic
Institute. Curator, 3. New York, AMNH.
(Schevill, W. E. & Lawrence, B. (1949). Underwater
listening to the white porpoise (Delphinapterus leucas).
Science 109:143-144
Schevill, W. E. & Lawrence, B. (1950). A phonographic
record of the underwater calls of Delphinapterus
leucas. Woods Hole Oceanographic Institution
Reference No. 50-1.
Schevill, W. E. & Lawrence, B. (1953). Auditory
response of a bottlenosed porpoise, Tursiops
truncatus, to frequencies above 100kc. Journal of
Experimental Zoology 124, 1:147-165
Tavolga, M. C. & Essapian, F. S. (1956). The Behavior of
the bottle-nosed dolphin (Tursiops truncatus): Mating,pregnancy, parturition and mother-infant behavior.
Zoologica 42:11-31
Tavolga, M. C. & Tavolga, W. N. (1962). Review of Man
and Dolphin, by John C. Lilly. Natural History 1:7
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93author Biographies
JO MARIEACEBES

Jom is currently a Senior Museum
Researcher at the Zoology Division of
the National Museum of the Philippines.
She is also the Founder and Principal
Investigator of a non-profit organization
called BALYENA.ORG, with a mission to
support the conservation of whales anddolphins and their natural habitats in thePhilippines. She has a Bachelor of Sciencein Biology from the Ateneo de Manila
University, a Doctor of Veterinary Medicine
from the University of the Philippines at Los
Baños, a Master of Science in Biodiversity,
Conservation and Management from the
University of Oxford and a PhD in Marine
Environmental History from Murdoch
University, Perth. Her interests range frommarine mammal population biology andconservation, cetacean-human interactions,biodiversity conservation, wildlife medicine,
to historical and current fisheries for large
marine vertebrates. Her current projects
include “Conservation of the Babuyan
Marine Corridor: the only breeding groundof humpback whales in the Philippines” and“In Search of Bughaw, the lone blue whalein the Bohol Sea, Philippines.” She started
out with a dream of studying mountaingorillas as a wildlife veterinarian in Africa
but serendipitously ended up starting thestudy of humpback whales in the northern
Philippines under WWF-Philippines. She hassince continued the humpback whale project
under BALYENA.ORG which is currently
the longest-running, continuous cetacean
research in the Philippines. She is also
leading the blue whale project in the Bohol
Sea. From over a decade of working in thefield of conservation, she has expanded herwork beyond whales and has been looking
into the interaction of humans and theirenvironment, particularly people and the sea.
Jom is also a National Geographic Explorer;
member of the IUCN Marine Mammal
Protected Areas Task Force and a member of
the Philippine Aquatic Red List Committee –Subcommittee on Cetaceans.

LISA
BALLANCE

Dr. Lisa T. Ballance is the relatively new(since October 2019) Director of the
Marine Mammal Institute and Endowed
Chair for Marine Mammal Research at

94

Oregon State University. She comes to
OSU from NOAA (National Oceanic andAtmospheric Administration), where she
spent 30 years conducting research on
cetaceans and seabirds around the world,
including the tropical Pacific and Indian
Oceans, Antarctica, the Bering Sea, andthe Mekong River in Cambodia. She holds
a Ph.D. in marine ecology, an M.S. inmarine science, and a B.S. in biology. Her
significant positions with NOAA include:
Director of NOAA’s Marine Mammal andTurtle Research Division in La Jolla, CA,providing scientific leadership and oversightof a division consisting of 70 scientists with
a $9M annual budget; and Chief Scientistof NOAA’s Eastern Tropical Pacific Dolphin
and Ecosystem Assessment Surveys
which provided the scientific basis for the“Dolphin Safe” label found on tuna cans insupermarkets all over this country. She has
published over 114 peer-reviewed papers,
working papers, and technical reports,
given invited scientific presentations atscientific conferences, universities, public
lectures, and congressional briefings, andbeen awarded research funding from awide variety of sources including National
Science Foundation, U.S. Navy, and Bureauof Ocean Energy Management. In her role asprofessor, she teaches and advises graduate
students and post-doctorates, and serves ona variety of academic steering committees
and working groups. She is recipient of the
Department of Commerce Bronze and Silver
Medals, NOAA Fisheries’ Supervisor of theYear, and was recently featured on the coverof the Association for Women in Science.

UKO
GORTER

Born in Arnhem, Holland, Uko Gorter ended
a seventeen-year career as a professional
ballet dancer in 1997. Following in his father’sfootsteps, he subsequently pursued his
lifelong dream of becoming an illustrator.
Uko enrolled in the School of Visual
Concepts and the School of Realist Art, bothin Seattle, WA.
His interest in nature led him to become anatural history illustrator. Specializing inmarine mammal illustration, Uko Gorterhas traveled extensively to observe whales,
dolphins, and other marine mammals
in their natural environment. Uko’s
work has appeared in scientific journals,

BRE AK ING THE SURFACE WOMEN OF CETOLOGY

museums, interpretive signs, and many
books. The culmination of this work was
illustrating all marine mammal species forthe second edition of “Marine Mammalsof the World: A Comprehensive Guide to
Their Identification”, authored by Thomas
Jefferson, Marc Webber, and Robert Pitman(Elsevier Press, 2015). More recently his work
was featured in the “Anatomy of Dolphins;
Insights into Body Structure and Function(Cozzi et al., 2017), and the Encyclopediaof Whales, Dolphins, and Porpoises (Erich
Hoyt. 2017).
Uko joined the American Cetacean Society
in 2002, and is the current president of theAmerican Cetacean Society. Uko lives with hiswife in Kirkland, Washington.

DENISEHERZING

Dr. Denise Herzing, Founder and Research
Director of the Wild Dolphin Project, hascompleted 35 years of her long-term studyof the Atlantic spotted dolphins inhabiting
Bahamian waters. She received her B.S. in
Marine Zoology; her M.A. in Behavioral
Biology; and her Ph.D. in Behavioral Biology/
Environmental Studies. She is an Affiliate
Assistant Professor in Biological Sciences
at Florida Atlantic University, Boca Raton,
Florida. Dr. Herzing is a 2008 Guggenheim
Fellow, a fellow with the Explorers Club, ascientific advisor for the Lifeboat Foundationand the American Cetacean Society, and on
the board of Schoolyard Films. In addition to
many scientific articles (wilddolphinproject.
org/research/library), she is the coeditor of
Dolphin Communication and Cognition,author of “Dolphin Diaries: My 25 years with
Spotted Dolphins in the Bahamas” and “TheWild Dolphin Project (2002)”.
Coverage of her work with the spotted
dolphins has appeared in National Geographic
Magazine 1992 and 2015, BBC Wildlife, Ocean
Realm and Sonar magazines and featured on
Nature, Discovery, PBS, ABC, BBC, NHK, PBS,
and TED2013 ted.com/talks/denise_herzing
Dr. Herzing has spoken at the Society for
Marine Mammalogy, European Cetacean
Society, International Fund for Animal
Welfare, the Explorers Club, TED2013, Boston
Museum of Science, American Cetacean
Society and others.

ELLEN
HINES

ehines8.wixsite.com/hineslab
Dr. Ellen Hines, the Associate Director of
the Estuary & Ocean Science Center, is a
Professor in Geography at San FranciscoState University. Her research addresses
population and community ecology of
threatened and endangered species inlocal conservation efforts and regional
scale coastal and marine management
science. Her emphasis is on the evolution of
consistent standards of field methods andmonitoring techniques, and the creationof educational materials to be applied tocommunity-based conservation planning.
Dr. Hines has extensive experience in GIS
and remote sensing for marine and coastal
spatial planning. She has conducted marine
mammal research in Thailand, Vietnam,
Cambodia, Myanmar and Belize since
1999, and is starting to work with scientists
in South America. Dr. Hines has been
researching dugongs and coastal dolphinsand porpoises along the eastern Gulf ofThailand since 2003. She is committed
to collaborating with developing country
scientists to solve conservation problems
threatening marine mammals and is on theExpert Panel of the International Whaling
Commission Bycatch Mitigation Initiative.
In California, Dr. Hines works closely with
the National Marine Sanctuaries and local
scientists outside and within San Francisco
Bay to model habitat and human uses formarine mammals and seabirds. With her
students, she works to create risk assessments
for anthropogenic threats such as shipping
collisions, marine megafaunal bycatch andthe effects of sea level rise on pinnipeds, sea
otters, and birds in coastal estuaries.

CHRISTINA
LOCKYER

Christina Lockyer (née Grzegorzewska) is
British and was educated in England at the
University of East Anglia where she gained
her B.Sc. (Hons) Biology in 1968, her M.Phil.
in Zoology at the University of London
in 1972, and her higher doctorate Sc.D. in
Zoology at the University of East Anglia
in 1989. She stepped into office as General
Secretary of the North Atlantic Marine
Mammal Commission (NAMMCO), basedin Tromsø in Norway, on 1st March 2005
and was employed there until 1st March
2015 when she officially retired. Formerly
she has been employed as a scientist by the
Natural Environment Research Council
in the United Kingdom between 1968 and
1996, and since 1977 as a principal scientist attheir Sea Mammal Research Unit, originallybased in Cambridge, England. From April
1996 until January 2003, she was employed
as a senior scientist at the Department ofMarine Ecology and Aquaculture at theDanish Institute for Fisheries Research,
Charlottenlund in Denmark, after which shelaunched her own biological consultancy
firm Age Dynamics, in Lyngby, Denmark,investigating and teaching age determination
methods and life history in marine mammals.
Her research encompasses population
biology, behaviour and ecosystem energetics
of large and small whales, and she has anextensive scientific publications record. She
has regularly been involved in advisorycommittees to the International Whaling
Commission (IWC) since the early 1970s,
ICES and the Agreement on Conservation of
Small Cetaceans of the Baltic and North Seas
(ASCOBANS) of which she was Secretary
between 1992 and 1996. Between 1989
and 1991, she was elected President of theworldwide Society for Marine Mammalogy.
She was elected Chairman of the European
Cetacean Society between 1997 and 2003.
Currently, she continues to run international
practical courses on marine mammal biology
in universities and research institutions,in conjunction with Age Dynamics, andacts as occasional scientific consultant to
the European Commission and various
international organisations and institutions.

JANET
MANN

Janet Mann has been studying wild bottlenose
dolphins for 32 years –mostly in Australia (theShark Bay Dolphin Research Project), but in
2015, she initiated a study of the bottlenose
dolphins literally in her backyard – and the
Potomac-Chesapeake Dolphin Project wasborn. She is a leading expert on marine
mammals and a professor of biology at
Georgetown University. Since 2015, her teamhas identified over 1200 individual dolphins in
the Potomac River. Both long-term studies focus
on conservation of dolphins and their habitat
through research.
Janet Mann has written and edited 2 books“Deep Thinkers: Inside the minds of whales,
dolphins, and porpoises” (2017) and “Cetacean
Societies” (2000). She has also authored over 120
scientific publications and received numerous
grants, fellowships and awards. Mann has been
funded by the National Science Foundationfor 25 years. Her work has also been covered
extensively by over two dozen documentary
film teams, including the BBC and National
Geographic Society. From 2013-2017 she served
as the inaugural Vice Provost for Research at
Georgetown University.

LORI
MARINO

Lori Marino, PhD, is founder and Presidentof the Whale Sanctuary Project as well
as founder and Executive Director of The
Kimmela Center for Animal Advocacy, which
focuses on scholar-advocacy in the domain ofanimal protection.
Lori is a neuroscientist and expert inanimal behavior and intelligence, formerlyon the faculty of Emory University and isinternationally known for her work on theevolution of the brain and intelligence indolphins and whales (as well as primatesand farmed animals). She has publishedover 140 peer-reviewed scientific papers,
book chapters, and magazine articles on
marine mammal biology and cognition,comparative brain anatomy, self-awarenessin nonhuman animals, human-nonhumananimal relationships, and the evolution of
intelligence. She also conducts researchand publishes in a variety of areas related tomarine mammal captivity such as dolphin
assisted therapy and the educational claimsof the zoo and aquarium industry.
Lori appears regularly in films and television
programs, including the 2013 documentaryBlackfish about killer whale captivity,
Unlocking the Cage, the 2016 documentary on
the Nonhuman Rights Project, and Long Gone
Wild , the 2019 documentary about the global
capture and trade in wild orcas and belugas.

YOKO
MITANI

Yoko Mitani is a marine mammalogist andhas a Bachelor and Master of Agriculture
from Kyoto University, and received a PhD.
from the Graduate University for Advanced
Studies, Japan where she conducted research
focusing on foraging behavior or Weddell
seals in Antarctica using bio-logging
techniques. As a postdoctoral fellow at
the National Institute of Polar Research,
Tokyo Institute of Technology, and Texas
A&M University, she collaborated with herinternational colleagues in several fieldsurveys of marine mammals; northernelephant seals in California, sea otters in
Alaska, and northern fur seals in Russia.
Since she got a position in Hokkaido
University in 2008, she established fieldresearch in Hokkaido, northern Japan.
Her research focuses on monitoring
marine mammal interactions with marine
environments, and seeks how to mitigate
conflicts between marine mammals andhuman activities such as fisheries.

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SALLYMIZROCH

Sally Mizroch worked at the Alaska Fisheries
Science Center in Seattle, Washington fromJanuary 1977 until she retired in May 2016,
when she founded Blue Sea Research. She
was a member of the U.S. delegation to theInternational Whaling Commission’s (IWC)
Scientific Committee from 1980-1988 and has
attended the past three IWC meetings as aninvited participant.
In 1986, she developed the humpback whale
matching system and started the centralized
North Pacific humpback whale flukes photo
database. She has conducted fieldwork
throughout the North Pacific and she has
participated in international scientificconferences throughout the world. In 2011,2012 and 2014, she spent 2-months at sea eachsummer surveying remote areas of the North
Pacific on a Japanese research ship as partof the Pacific Ocean Whales and Ecosystem
Research (POWER) program.
In recent years, Sally (in collaboration with
Dale Rice) has been writing comprehensive
and complex papers on killer whales and on the
distribution and movements of large whales in
the North Pacific. Their papers on fin whale andsperm whales have been published and theirpaper on North Pacific sei whales is in final
stages of revision. They also have a draft paper
in progress on distribution and movements ofNorth Pacific humpback whales.
She has used both whaling and photoidentification data to estimate vital rates
of many cetacean species and populations
over the course of her long career. She isparticularly interested in large mammal
population dynamics and reproductive
biology and enjoys fostering large-scalecollaborative research.

LOUISAPONNAMPALAM

Dr. Louisa Ponnampalam is the Executive
Director and Co-Founder of The MareCet
Research Organization in Malaysia, a NGO
she co-founded. Her career today is testamentthat childhood dreams can come true
with hard work and perseverance. Louisa
has contributed to cetacean research in
Thailand, Oman, Vietnam and Myanmar,
but has focused most on developing marine
mammal science in Malaysia. One of Louisa’s
main career goals is to raise the profile ofmarine mammals in Malaysia, and to build
local research and conservation capacity
for these animals and their fragile marine
environment. In her own words, “If I can
reduce the number of people asking me in96

disbelief whether Malaysia has dolphins,then I would have done something rightin my career’s lifetime”. Louisa wasawarded the Pew Fellowship in Marine
Conservation in 2014, the first Malaysian
to be presented with this prestigious
international award and the only female
recipient for that year. Additionally, herefforts were recognized by her country
when she was awarded the National YouthPremier Award 2014 (Special Category) in2014 by the Malaysian government. She
presently serves as a member of the IUCN
Species Survival Commission’s Cetacean andSirenia Specialist Groups and is a Research
Associate at the Institute of Biodiversity andEnvironmental Conservation, Universiti
Malaysia Sarawak. In 2017, she was a
finalist of the Study UK Alumni Awards(Professional Category) and was listed as
one of “30 Under-40 Most Inspiring Young,
Inspiring and Successful Malaysians” by the
Malaysian Business Magazine. In 2018 she
made the shortlist for the inaugural Womenof the Future South East Asia Awards. Louisa
currently co-supervises 4 postgraduate
students and is mentor to various colleagues
in the Southeast Asian region. In her freetime, she enjoys travelling and learning about
the various cultures around the world.

NAOMI
ROSE

Naomi Rose is the marine mammal
scientist for the Animal Welfare Institutein Washington, DC. She campaigns
against cetacean live capture, trade, andcaptivity and has been a member of theInternational Whaling Commission (IWC)
Scientific Committee since 2000, where
she participates in the subcommittees
on environmental concerns and whale
watching. She has authored or co-authoredover 45 scientific papers and articles
for animal protection publications, aswell as chapters in several books. She
has participated in various conferences,
workshops, meetings, and task forces at theinternational, national and state level. She
has testified before the U.S. Congress fourtimes, at the Canadian Parliament, andat several state legislative and regulatory
hearings. Her work was featured in the 2012
non-fiction book Death at SeaWorld: Shamu
and the Dark Side of Killer Whales in Captivity,
by David Kirby, and she gave a TedX Talk in
Bend, Oregon in April 2015 on captive orca
welfare. She received a Ph.D. in biology fromthe University of California at Santa Cruz in
1992, where her dissertation examined thesocial dynamics of free-ranging orcas. She
has worked in the marine mammal advocacy
field for over 25 years.

BRE AK ING THE SURFACE WOMEN OF CETOLOGYALISA
SHULMAN-JANIGER

Alisa Schulman-Janiger is a Research
Associate with the Natural History Museumof Los Angeles County, and is a marine
biologist, whale researcher, and educator.
She has been Director/Coordinator of the
full-season shore-based ACS/LA Gray Whale
Census and Behavior Project (which she
founded) since 1984: spotting, tracking, andrecording that migration from Point Vicente
Interpretive Center with citizen scientists
she trained. Alisa has been photo-identifying
California killer whales, archiving sightingsand studying distribution, natural history,
and behavior for 40 years. She coauthored
the NOAA Technical Memorandum “Killer
Whales of California and Western Mexico:
A Catalog of Photo-Identified Individuals”,
and co-founded the non-profit California
Killer Whale Project. She is an instructor
for Cabrillo Whalewatch Program, training
whale watch naturalists. She is a naturalist
on boats in southern California andMonterey Bay, has been a researcher andnaturalist in Baja California, Alaska, andMassachusetts, and a NOAA staff scientist
and Marine Mammal Observer on cruises
from Alaska to California. She is on NOAA’s
Stranding Response Team and Large
Whale Entanglement Response Team. Alisa
previously taught marine biology, advanced
marine science, and biology in San Pedro
High School’s Marine Science Magnet forover 20 years, and was head marine biologist/
educator on LAUSD’s Sea Education Afloat
Program boats (K-college) for 10 years. She
has a Bachelor’s of Science degree in Zoology(emphasis in marine biology), and a life
science teaching credential.

SABENA
SIDDIQUI

Sabena Siddiqui founded the American
Cetacean Society Student Coalition (ACSSC),
she has served as the student chair and as anational board member of the ACS for nine
years. Her efforts on the ACS board include
serving as the IWC representative for ACS
and leading the organization’s efforts tobroaden the scope of cetacean conservationand science outreach beyond the typical ethnic
and socioeconomic groups. As ACS student
chair, she helps recruit new student leaders byproviding mentorship and guidance of current
student leaders in campuses across the country.
Sabena is currently conducting humpback
whale behavior and bioacoustics research forher master’s degree at the University of HawaiiHilo. Previously she worked on a humpback
whale acoustics project with the passive
acoustics research group at NOAA-NEFSC inauthor Biographies
Woods Hole, MA. She has contributed as anintern for various research projects exploring
manatee cognition, dolphin communication,and cetacean distribution. Sabena has also
worked as a survey biologist on the North
Atlantic Right Whale Cruise through NOAA.

MRIDULASRINIVASAN

Mridula Srinivasan is a marine ecologist andcurrently, Chief, Protected Species Science
Branch at NOAA’s National Marine FisheriesService, Office of Science and Technology.
She has a Ph.D. in Wildlife and Fisheries
Science from Texas A & M University, a MS
in Environmental Management from Florida
Tech, a B.Sc. and M.SC in Zoology/Molecular
Biology from the University of Delhi,
India. Her research interests are focusedon different facets of behavioral ecology,
and more specifically, on predator-preyinteractions, predation risk effects, climate andoceanographic effects on species distributions.
She is also actively involved in international
training and capacity building in marine
mammal education, research, and stranding
response, especially in India. She serves as the
Education Committee Chair for the Society
for Marine Mammalogy and is passionate
about ocean literacy and mentoring the next
generation of marine scientists.

ALISON
STIMPERT

Alison Stimpert completed her PhD in Zoology
at the University of Hawai`i at Mānoa andthe Hawai`i Institute of Marine Biology. She
studied humpback whale foraging ecology in
Antarctica as part of an F.V. Hunt Postdoctoral
Fellowship through the Acoustical Society ofAmerica, and then went on to study the effects
of anthropogenic noise on cetaceans as a
National Research Council Research Associate
at the Naval Postgraduate School in Monterey,
CA. She is currently a member of the Research
Faculty in Bioacoustics and Vertebrate Ecology
at Moss Landing Marine Laboratories in Moss
Landing, CA. Her research investigates theacoustic (sound production) and movement(fine-scale kinematic patterns) behavior ofanimals (particularly fish and cetaceans) as well
as characterizing soundscapes in a variety ofmarine habitats. She is particularly interested
in how individual animal behavior can be used
to answer questions relating to conservationand effects of anthropogenic activities.

KATE
STAFFORD

Dr. Kate Stafford’s research focuses on using
passive acoustic monitoring to examine
migratory movements, geographic variationand physical drivers of marine mammals,
particularly large whales. She has worked
all over the world from the tropics to thepoles, and is fortunate enough to haveseen (and recorded) blue whales in every
ocean in which they occur. Kate’s current
research focuses on the acoustic behavior of
bowhead whales and the changing acoustic
environment of the Arctic and how changes,
from sea ice declines to increasing industrial
human use, may be influencing subarctic andArctic marine mammals. She is a founding
member of the Scholarly Union for BioPhysical Arctic Researchers. Kate is currently
a Senior Principal Oceanographer at the
Applied Physics Lab and affiliate Associate
Professor in the School of Oceanography
at the University of Washington in Seattle.
She has degrees in French Literature andBiology from the University of California at
Santa Cruz and Wildlife Science (MS) andOceanography (PhD) from Oregon State
University. Before going to graduate school,
she lived as a Fulbright scholar for a year in
Paris studying Medieval French Literature.
Kate’s research has been featured, among
others, in Wild Blue: a Natural History of theWorld’s Largest Animal by Dan Bortolotti,
the New York Times Scientist at Work blog,
The Planet magazine, and in Highlights forChildren magazine. She has collaborated
with artists around the world, providing
sounds for multimedia art exhibits.

BARBARATAYLOR

Dr. Barbara Taylor has been researching
marine mammals for over 30 years. She
led the marine mammal genetics group at
the Southwest Fisheries Science Center in
La Jolla, California for 15 years and now
is a senior scientist. The group identifies
units to conserve using genetic data andhas promoted developing guidelines andstandards to facilitate naming new taxa
of cetaceans using primarily genetic data.
She also specializes in estimating risk ofextinction and has worked with some of
the most endangered species. She chairs
the Conservation Committee of the Society
for Marine Mammalogy, and serves as the

Listing Authority for the Cetacean Specialist
Group of the International Union for theConservation of Nature (IUCN). In 2016 she
was awarded the Society for Conservation
Biology’s LaRoe award for her outstanding
career achievements in translatingconservation science into real-worldconservation efforts. She was chief scientist
together with Dr. Lorenzo Rojas-Bracho on all
vaquita surveys. She is a member of vaquita
recovery team, the steering committee forthe acoustic monitoring project, and led thesearch effort for the attempt to take vaquitas
into captivity. She co-chaired a workshop on
Ex-Situ Options for Cetacean Conservation in2018 and chaired a 2019 workshop to developa One Plan Approach for Yangtze finless
porpoise.

SOFIE
VAN PARIJS

Dr. Sofie Van Parijs has worked on
passive acoustic research from the poles
to the Tropics for over 20 years. She has
undergraduate and master’s degrees from
Cambridge University and a PhD from
Aberdeen University in the UK. She worked
as a postdoctoral scientist at the Norwegian
Polar Institute, James Cook University inAustralia and Cornell University before
moving to NOAA’s Northeast Fisheries
Science Center in Woods Hole in 2006.
At NMFS she is the program leader forthe passive acoustic research program
within the Protected Species Branch which
consists of postdoctoral scientists, PhD
students, research analysts and summer
interns. She has published over 95 papers
in international journals and represents
NMFS in a wide range of fora within the US
and internationally. Her expertise in marine
bio-acoustics has addressed questions on
behavioral ecology, distribution, abundance,long term monitoring, mitigation and effectsof ocean noise on marine mammals. Thishas given her extensive experience collecting
data with archival, real time autonomousvehicles and towed arrays.

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Exploring
the world of
women in marine
mammal scienceand STEM
The Women In
Marine Mammal Science Initiative(WIMMS)
Visit us at wimms.weebly.com
facebook.com/groups/womeninmmsci@womeninmmsci

In 2017, we formed the Women in Marine Mammal Science (orWIMMS) initiative, to establish a global community of marine
mammal scientists committed to identifying and addressing theunique barriers to women in the field of marine mammal science.
Women are underrepresented in career, and especially leadership,positions within the field of marine mammal science. In addition
to challenges encountered by women seeking higher positions in
STEM more broadly, women face unique barriers to success whenadvancing their careers in marine mammal science (e.g., income
inequality, imposter syndrome, stereotype threats and implicitbias). Despite this, women comprise a majority of the membershipin scientific societies focused on marine mammalogy. The driversof the disparity between membership and career advancement arecomplex and are not well-understood. Achieving gender equity inmarine mammal science will require us to identify the barriers to
success faced by women and develop strategies that individuals andinstitutions can implement to actively support the advancement
and retention of women from diverse backgrounds in this field.
We organized a workshop in association with the Biennial
Conference on the Biology of Marine Mammals held in Halifax,
Canada in 2017. The workshop brought together early-career
women and leaders in our field from around the world to share theirviews, lived experiences, and advice for advancement in our field.
Prior to the workshop, we circulated an online survey designed to
identify the barriers to success faced by women and to present
strategies that individuals and institutions can implement to breakthese barriers down (the report is available on the website). Over650 people responded to the survey. Since then the initiative has
built on the ideas generated by our workshop and from workshops
conducted by other groups. We are actively engaging with thebroader community through social media platforms. With ourtwitter account @womeninmmsci we highlight the achievements ofwomen in the field through weekly #WIMMSWednesday features,and on Facebook, we established a closed group to serve as aforum for discussion, networking, and mentorship to support theadvancement of women in our field. The community grows daily andwe welcome you to join it.
Erin Ashe, Amanda Bradford, Maria Constanza Marchesi, Natalie
Mastick, Frances Robertson, and Mridula Srinivasan

98

BRE AK ING THE SURFACE WOMEN OF CETOLOGYYou care about whales, dolphins, andporpoises. We’re here to protect them,but we can’t do it without your help.
The American Cetacean Society is proud to present this issue of Whalewatcher, dedicated to
the women of cetology, and is grateful to guest editor, Sabena Siddiqui and the authors andphoto contributors who made this one-of-a-kind publication possible.
Uniquely written by scientists for the lay community, Whalewatcher is just one of the many
benefits you’ll enjoy as an ACS member– from local chapter meetings and action alerts, andissues of Spyhopper, our quarterly e-newsletter, your support of ACS puts you at the epicenterof our efforts to protect the future of cetaceans. The best benefit of all, however, is knowingthat your investment in the American Cetacean Society is making a meaningful difference inthe lives of whales, dolphins, and porpoises everywhere.
To activate or renew your ACS membership today or to make a donation, visit us at:acsonline.org

When you join or donate to ACS today, you’ll help us achieve lasting results for cetaceans andthe healthy habitats upon which they depend. Thank you for becoming a member!
On behalf of whales, dolphins, and porpoises,

President, ACS National Board of Directors

Very curious Bigg’s transient killer
whales closely approach my boat off
of Palos Verdes in December 2013, not
far from the Gray Whale Census; they
had recently killed a common dolphin.
Photo by Alisa Schulman-Janiger.
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The mission of the American Cetacean Society is to protect
whales, dolphins, porpoises, and their habitats throughpublic education, research grants, and conservation actions.

JOURNAL OF THE AMERICAN CETACEAN SOCIETY
P.O. BOX 51691
PACIFIC GROVE, CA 93950
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