War of the Whales Read Online Free PDF

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    Balcomb finally found the card paper-clipped inside the conference program guide. When Gisiner picked up after the first ring, Balcomb didn’t pause for pleasantries. “Bob, this is Ken Balcomb. On Abaco Island. I’m standing in the middle of a mass stranding down here. Two, probably three or more species.”
    For a moment, there was silence on the other end. “Tell me what you know,” said Gisiner.
    “Three beaked whales stranded live this morning within a two-mile stretch here on the southwest end of Abaco. Two Cuvier’s, one Blainville’s. We’ve got calls coming in from other islands. Sounds like a pair of minke whales also came ashore.”
    “How many animals are involved?”
    “A dozen or more, spread across at least three islands.”
    “What’s the outlook for specimens?” Gisiner asked.
    “So far everything’s stranded live, and we pushed three back out to sea this morning. But those came ashore right on top of us. There are bound to be some specimens on the outer islands. I’ll collect whatever I can.”
    Gisiner said he’ d get on the horn to Fisheries and pull together an investigative team. “I want to get Darlene Ketten down there in a hurry,” he said. “I don’t know where she is now, but we’ll track her down.”
    When he heard Ketten’s name, Balcomb knew that he had Gisiner’s attention. Though an academic and a civilian, Ketten was the US Navy’s top-gun whale pathologist, the go-to forensics expert for any “unusual mortality event” (UME) that Fisheries or the Navy needed to investigate. Her specialty was hearing, in both whales and humans. She had joint appointments at Harvard Medical School and Woods Hole Oceanographic Institution, though she spent much of her time flying around the world to investigate unexplained strandings. After the Greek stranding in ’96, Gisiner had dispatched her from Woods Hole to join the NATO scientific investigation—which reached no definitive finding of cause in 1998. She’ d been on-site at most of the atypical whale strandings since.
    “Ketten would be great,” said Balcomb. “I’ll make sure she has what she needs on the ground. And I’ll collect all the ear bones I can find.”
    “Better to take the whole head,” Gisiner advised. “Darlene’s going to want them whole. Get as many heads as you can, as fast as you can, and keep them on ice.”
    It was time for Balcomb to talk to Gisiner about money. Never his strong suit. “I’m going to need a plane to survey the outer islands. And we’ll need to get more boats in the water to check the coastlines and ferry the heads back to our field station.” After some back-and-forth, Gisiner agreed to cover up to $5,000 in expenses. If costs ran higher, Gisiner said, he’ d find more funds.
    Before he rang off, Balcomb had to ask the question that had been weighing on his mind all day: “Bob, does the fleet have something going on down here?”
    Gisiner said he didn’t know but promised to find out.
    “One other thing.” Balcomb paused to figure out how to say it right. “Make sure they save the tapes. From AUTEC. Those tapes will tell the tale.”
    There was silence on the other end. Balcomb wondered if he’ d overstepped the line with Gisiner. AUTEC was the Atlantic Undersea Test and Evaluation Center, one of the Navy’s most classified, tightly controlled testing ranges for simulated warfare. Even though it was located just over the horizon offshore from Andros Island, most Bahamians had no notion of what went on there. Even Claridge, who grew up in Nassau, had only a vague idea. 1
    Gisiner said he’ d call over there and see what he could find out. But AUTEC was run out of the Naval Undersea Warfare Center, he reminded Balcomb, which wasn’t fond of sharing data.
    “They used to keep the tapes for thirty days,” Balcomb said. “I don’t know what their protocol is these days.”
    “Stay focused on the whales, Ken, and let me know what you’re able to