Saturday 10 January 2026
Fifteen pilot whales had restranded for the third day at Triangle Flat, Farewell Spit, Mohua. This was my first ever time attending a stranding – just one month after I completed my Project Jonah marine mammal medic training.
Refloat was at 2pm. I arrived around 1:30pm and got straight into it.
There were no emotions at first. Just a buzz of high-functioning organisation. I fell into place. Alongside a female pilot whale. No time for introductions or acknowledgement of the deceased behind me. I knelt beside her dorsal fin, taking in her scars. I heard the clicks and squeaks of the others around me.
My whale was docile – she seemed tired.
Within no time she was pressed against my body. We were placing a sling under her to move her into position for refloating. I noticed Lou from Project Jonah beside me as I reached for the sling. We both tried but could not reach it. I noticed the water was flowing freely around me and less concentrated than a pile of whale water would be. I used all my strength to pull the sling out.
A volunteer approached was emotionally overwhelmed and struggling to respond safely. She was attempting to calm the whale – I perceived this as placing her own human feelings and needs onto an animal that doesn’t think or feel as we do. I watched her rub her hands over the whale’s peeling skin. Sunburn. I warned her that she could be distressing the whale by being close to the echolocation melon and that she could be in danger as they have sharp teeth.
She then moved to the tail, embracing the whale. Again, this was not helping. I placed my hand on hers and asked if she was okay. As I felt she was trying to regulate her emotions rather than the whales. I didn’t want her to get hurt. Resources do not need to be stretched thinner by helping both humans and whales.
Action
We mobilised – after I had stood up and realised that my legs were jelly from the adrenaline! We maneuverer the whale around one that had already died. Time is of the essence in a crisis. Some humans had been there for days already with limited strength and energy left. I’m pretty sure our whale was aware its deceased family member was right there. They must perceive death differently to us.
Things were looking up. Two large males were refloated on pontoons and taken out to sea. The rest waited for release, while calves swam around us. The whales stretched out and made a lot more noise. The energy was high. We worked really well as a coordinated team. I had a great sense for whale flukes and had to dodge them often.
The water rose, as did I. It was time for me to do the switcheroo with someone taller. As much as I wanted to be there for release, I knew safety is key and comes before pride.
Then I was part of a human chain. Probably my favourite part of the day. I brought good positive vibes to keep the energy high and people warm. Ring Around the Rosie was sung. We felt strong, powerful, unified, together. I made friends. We had a whale stand-off – splashing and making big movements to deter them from shore. I listened to a powerful Karakia. They swam off together and I felt proud.
Premature
I knew it was premature to remove my wetsuit, but my toes were burning and I was so itchy. We came together for donated apples and sour snakes. A moment to decompress. Then we heard the whales had restranded.
We headed to Pakawau.
This time felt different. The air was charged with desperation. Tensions were higher.
I arrived beside a 6m male. I took in his sheer size and power. He was alone and closest to shore on an outgoing tide. I knew we needed to act fast. We attempted to use slings but he needed a pontoon. He would have been 2–3 tonnes. I should have known this.
I was crushed.
When help arrived with the pontoon, I was positioned on my knees at the dorsal fin. I hadn’t considered how much heavier he would be compared to the female. My toes locked into the sand. I remember looking at the density of muscle running beneath him. What a powerful creature he was.
We succeeded in setting up the pontoon, but it was too late. The tide was moving too fast. We pushed and lifted with all our might, but the tail acted like an anchor. He moved less than a foot before we had to redirect resources elsewhere.
It hurt to leave him.
The penny drops
I shifted quickly to help lift a female. We worked hard but she barely moved.
I took a step back and looked to the shore. I saw the 6m male fully on the sand. I felt the pain and the drop of my throat into my heart. Hope sank.
All I could contribute then was buckets of water. People approached me in my high vis asking for direction. I asked them to pour water on the fins while I focused on the head. Children approached me – grounding me. I had to be strong for them.
His eyes were closed. He was exhausted. Each bucket was poured between breaths, slowing his breathing. I didn’t need to hug him to show care. His presence was commanding yet submitted.
This whale changed my life. He aligned me with my purpose, and I am grateful for him.
I will continue to attend strandings. Each time I will get better, stronger, sharper. I am grateful for the leaders present and aspire to be one too. This was my first stranding, so I was reserved, but I do feel my ability to see the bigger picture and lead will grow.
