Robin was around made me feel like climbing the bell tower in Notre
Dame. To most, Robin is humbly disarming. To all, he is exactly the kind of person
to have alongside when facing the most trying times.
Robin was a master of many things, but his specialty lay principally in the area of
animal husbandry. In the zoological field, this is the science and art of ensuring
animals in human care are healthy, socially well-adjusted and happy. This is not a
nine-to-five profession. Robin’s chosen field involving marine mammal rescue, rehabilitation
and the occasional animal transport placed round-the-clock demands on his personal
time.
While he wasn’t a trained veterinarian, Robin often knew more about marine mammal
care and practical application than many ofthe vets on staff. He also traveled extensively on behalf of the company. In fact,
when it came to marine mammal rescue and rehabilitation, he had rescued nearly 300
animals at this point in his career and lost many a night’s sleep in the process,
caring for fragile survivors around the clock. Animal rescue was, and to this day
remains, his passion. When another facility or a government came to SeaWorld for expert
help, more often than not, Robin led or was part of the team of responders. He would
never say so himself, but Robin Friday is one of the most well-known and liked professionals
in the marine mammal community.
My experience with animals was focused on behavioral science: the application of behavioral
modification commonly known as “animal training.” Having realized a dream that transported
me from Virginia to Orlando, I began working with marine mammals at the ripe age of
eighteen. I spent the following ten years of my life at SeaWorld in some of the most
fascinating and unbelievable circumstances, dedicated to understanding and shaping
killer whale behavior.
By the time I left SeaWorld in 1996, I had managed Shamu Stadium, represented SeaWorld
in British Columbia on the acquisition of three killer whales from Sealand of the
Pacific and participated on numerous marine mammal rescues involving dolphins, manatees
and the occasional pygmy sperm whale. My time at SeaWorld was life changing. Nothing
compares to an intimate working relationship with animals, especially when those animals
weigh in at five tons and are sharper than many of the people that work alongside
them.
When Robin decided to leave SeaWorld to take a general manger position at another
marine life park, I remember telling him, “Never hesitate to call on me, I’ll gladly
follow wherever you go.” Less than a year later, he did precisely that, and we have
since spent our careers working together.
After leaving SeaWorld and finishing my business degree, Robin and I formed a professional
partnership, creating a zoological consulting business. We both tend toward altruistic
ideals and arepassionate about our trade. As a by-product, our business objectives were equally
benevolent and far-reaching. Our goal was to cross traditional boundary lines with
our new organization and in so doing, to share a considerable arsenal of knowledge
and experience to the betterment of animals and wildlife management. We were both
blessed to have graduated from SeaWorld, the “Harvard” of the marine mammal zoological
world, and we intended to spread this wealth of knowledge. Our focus was not solely
public display facilities; we would seek out any case where the care of marine mammals
was deficient and, of course, where the proprietor or government agency was accepting
of outside help. That last criteria proved to be the toughest.
Even so, there were enough projects to keep our small organization busy throughout
the beginning of 1999. Much of our time was spent networking, which ultimately gave
rise to our contact with the Keiko Release Project. Robin had an extensive list of
close contacts in the zoological field, and his
Susan Sontag, Victor Serge, Willard R. Trask
Robert Jordan, Brandon Sanderson