Dogs and drones: how scientists are saving Washington’s endangered orcas | Environment

NEliminated between the American state of Washington and the island of Vancouver, the San Juan islands are a dynamic refuge for North American fauna. Here, every 74 resident subspecies in the south of the world of Orcas find a sanctuary, overflowing daily from the depths of the Salish Sea.

Dr. Deborah Giles, an Orca scientist, with his colleague, EBA. The EBA is a brown and white rescue dog with a remarkable nose. Found like a cold, humid and five -month puppy in the streets of Sacramento, it detects the whale scat – or the faeces – since the age of four.

Dressed in a bright orange – and sometimes glasses’ life jacket – EBA perch at the top of the Giles search boat, scanning the wind. When she catches a puff of orca faces, she lifts her nose, groaning or sometimes going up her tail to point Giles in the right direction. Orca detection dogs have become an unlikely ally in the fight to save whales.

“We wanted to use the EBA because it allows us to stay very far from the whales and not stressing them,” explains Giles, a member of the organization of the marine seadoc Society conservation.

Thanks to the study of the faeces of whales, researchers can discover a richness of biological perspectives of a single sample, in particular diet, hormone levels, exposure to toxins, pregnancy, composition of the intestinal microbiome and the quantity of microplastics in their system, as well as the presence of parasites, bacteria and mushrooms.

The EBA carries a neck decorated with a small strip of lime green and black neoprene to work. It was once part of a toy belonging to Tokitae, or Toki, a southern resident orca caught in a mass capture in 1970. She spent 53 years in captivity at the Miami Seaquarium before dying in 2023, just a few months before a return planned in her native waters.

Also known as Lolita, and named Sk’Alich’elh-Tenaut by the Lummi Nation tribe, its history has become a rallying cry for the conservation of Orca. When he died, his long -standing coach offered the combination band in Giles – a silent tribute to a whale that should have returned home.

Once the EBA locks on a trail of perfume, Giles picks up floating faeces and treats it in a small damp laboratory with the stern of the boat. A centrifuge separates fecal material from seawater and the sample is sent for laboratory analysis.

Data from these samples have revealed key information on the challenges faced by residents of the South.

Where there was once a flourishing population of whales in these waters, the group is now faced with growing threats. A sharp drop in the quinnat salmon – their main source of food – combined with the increase in toxic and the sound of a disturbing vessel, pushed them to the edge of the extinction.

Unlike the killers of the Mammalian eaten subspecies, which have around 350, and the northern residents, with more than 300, southern residents are the smallest orca ecotype in the eastern peaceful ocean.

They are genetically and culturally distinct from other populations, and as Northern residents feed exclusively with fish. Once abundant, their population has decreased by almost 20% since the late 1990s.

This is particularly worrying for those who cherish them the most. Through the islands, whales are celebrated. Images of their black and white bodies adorn the shop windows, t-shirts and coffee walls. But their presence is deeper. For many indigenous communities, including the Swinomish tribe, whales are considered parents.

“We consider the Orcas, or Blackfish, part of the whole canvas that connects us as a tribe to all living things,” explains Steve Edwards, president of the Washington State.

Alex Ramel, representative of the state of Washington and defender of the whales, agrees. “They are only part of culture and the community. Whenever we read on one of the southern southern residents or a born baby and not doing it, it is a subject of conversation in our community. ”

In January, a bereaved mother made the headlines when she saw her dead newborn. It was her second defeat since 2018, when she pushed her deceased calf on more than 1,000 miles. Earlier this month, another resident in the South was seen by pushing his dead calf with his umbilical cord still attached.

For Giles, who studied whales for two decades, their fate is symptomatic of deeper ecological damage. “They are an indicator of the ecosystem,” she says. “Everything that causes their decline is our fault, so it is our responsibility to help them recover.”

Surveillance of whales involved invasive techniques such as the dismissal of barbed -wicked biopsy darts and satellite labels in the dorsal fins of animals. In 2016, one of these efforts ended with a tragedy when a whale died five weeks after the marking, probably due to a fungal infection introduced on the wound site.

Even less harmful methods, such as the use of telescopic poles to take breath samples, can be disruptive. “Having a boat at 30 feet is very close. This would most likely be a response to stress, ”explains Giles. “If it’s constant, they have this high level of stress.”

Now, perfume detection dogs like EBA, associated with new technologies, are expanding the toolbox for non -invasive conservation practices.

On the boat with Giles are James Sheppard, a scientist from the San Diego Zoo Wildlife Alliance, and Charlie Welch, a volunteer of SDZWA and manager of appropriate tension, a company focused on sustainable battery technology. Together, they spent a decade of developing conservation drones that can capture samples of the plunge in the shape of a cloud from the orcated blowing holes with frames holding Petri boxes.

Sheppard says: “We must obtain robust data and as close to the real time as possible, so that we can know if there is a real problem. So animal care staff can enter and stage an intervention if necessary.”

On the Salish Sea, a pod of seven Bigg beacons killers soon appears – the residents of the South are elsewhere. The team takes the opportunity. With an ease practiced, the drone slides several feet above the whales.

Once a whale surfaces, the drone petri boxes collect the mist of its blowing hole, capturing genetic material, reproductive hormones and signs of illness.

“We get an instantaneous of what is happening inside the animal,” explains Sheppard, adding that they also decrease radiometric thermal sensors that use infrared radiation to measure the internal body temperature.

Duo drone operations have maintained a perfect flight record without collision and operate according to strict federal guidelines to minimize disturbances.

“Most of the time, whales ignore [the drone] And if they look at it, they will simply turn and continue to move, ”explains Sheppard.

With a target area no more than two basketball balls, the pilot must sometimes go from more than 100 meters above the whales to just over a meter very quickly so that they do not miss the breath. “You only get a few seconds,” says Welch.

Despite the technical challenges of flying drones so precisely, the team’s mission is to succeed. “What we do must have tangible and real advantages for the species we are studying,” says Sheppard, “otherwise we are only collecting buffers.

“We must be defenders and we have to put pressure for change. And that’s what science does – it supports it. “