Tagging a beluga in Cook Inlet near Anchorage
Credit: NMML
More than 130,000 people have now emailed or written the feds about the fate of Cook Inlet’s depleted white whales. With a week to go before public hearings, here’s a glimpse of Knik Arm’s indigenous belugas.
On a summer day three years ago, a pod swam on the rising tide, only about 15 miles upstream from Alaska’s urban center in Anchorage. Their arching backs winked white against the brown water. Their breaths exploded in quick brilliant clouds that faded fast in the sunshine. A few whistled, making a faint and eerie sound.
These were some of the rarest belugas alive — one of the smallest distinct and genetically isolated populations of marine mammals on the planet. On that day in 2004, a couple dozen ventured within a quarter mile of a 12-foot skiff carrying marine mammal biologist Mike Williams and two others, Williams started the motor. He was conducting a survey as part of studies for the Knik Arm bridge crossing, and wanted to reposition the boat to get a better count as the whales swam by.
- Are CI belugas in danger of extinction?
- Tell NOAA by Aug. 3
- Email: CIB-ESA-Endangered@noaa.gov
- w/subject “Cook Inlet Beluga Whale PR”
- Full details & contacts in the proposal
But the belugas — one of the smallest distinct populations of intelligent marine mammals on the planet — apparently recognized the droning of human presence. And what had been a smooth conga line of cruising cetaceans quickly swirled into a tight, water-churning group.
They veered toward the boat in a confused mob, whistling and blowing and trumpeting brassy notes. About 100 yards out, they cut toward shore — white adults and gray babies obscured by the roiling and splashing of the inlet’s silty flow. They were almost impossible to see, let alone count.
Though Williams had benign intentions, with a goal of gathering scientific data for their conservation, the whales wanted nothing to do with a skiff and outboard motor.
“It’s so easy to prescribe some kind of plot (to the whales’ behavior), but I don’t know,” Williams said, watching as the animals finally spread out closer to shore and turned north toward Eklutna near the head of Knik Arm northeast of Anchorage. “There are always going to be way more questions when we’re done.”
It’s now time to start answering those questions.