A small group of kayakers paddled alongside the shores of the Osa Peninsula in Golfo Dulce, sunlight reflecting emerald rainforest on the cerulean sea. Oaring their way around a tip of land and into a serene bay, the threesome unexpectedly came upon an enormous Humpback whale. At first delighted, the people quickly realized the fifty-foot leviathan was behaving strangely. It was swimming slowly and in circles. Concerned, the kayakers stopped at a safe distance and watched.

The whale descended. Minutes passed. When at last it rose again, it began breathing heavily as if in pain. Its blowhole gapped open and closed with increasing strain. The kayakers ached with compassion, their fiberglass crafts bobbing over tiny ripples caused by the labored inhalations. What, if anything, could be done to help the distressed whale? Was it dying? Suddenly the water flashed crimson. Great plumes of blood swelled from the behemoth as it drew a final jagged breath and slipped below the surface.

As the kayakers peered down at the black form, an odd movement twisted the depths. Moments later, a small wrinkled mass surged upward and broke the water’s surface—a newborn calf—pushed into the daylight by its mother for its first sweet breath of air. The kayakers had watched the birth of a Humpback!

When one of the men told me this story years after its occurence, his eyes twinkled with a hint of tears. Such emotion seems inevitable. Whales have long inspired reverence in the human heart, and having seen other kinds of babies born myself, I know the miracle of nativity leaves no witness untouched. But their experience was made even more amazing by its rarity—only a few people have ever seen a Humpback delivered! Despite years of research, mother whales still keep their secret. Magnificent titans, they surface and dive like black stitches across blue fabric, weaving mysteries of life we have yet to unravel.

Dorsal A lives in Golfo Dulce, Costa Rica

Most of you know I have been working toward identifying the Bottlenose dolphins (Turciops truncatus) inside Golfo Dulce. After my first round of research I was able to recognize about 40 individual dolphins, some of which can be seen in my 2010 report. Now, after two years of laborious investigation, I have come to identify about twice that many!

You may be wondering how exactly one goes about identifying dolphins.

Well, pioneering biologists studying various species discovered ingenious ways to distinguish individuals. Jaguars have unique spots.  Gorillas have unique nose prints. Dolphins have unique dorsal fins. By examining the shape, natural markings, scars and trailing edge, a dorsal may appear as distinct as a fingerprint. 

Of course dolphins don’t sit quietly at the surface while you study the intricacies of their dorsal patterns, so ID work is best done through photos. A good close-up photo allows us to visualize, even trace, the dorsal outline. Once we “know” this dolphin, we can often recognize it from a distance. We can then go back and look for it in other sighting photos and thus begin tracking its movements, as well as associations with fellow dolphins. It’s a tedious task, yet also exciting. Every sea of dorsal fins suddenly becomes an intriguing puzzle of who’s-who!

If you followed my facebook page, you may remember seeing a picture of a Bottlenose named Dorsal A. Dorsal A was the first dolphin Jorge and I recognized during our 2010 survey.  With a fully severed fin, it’s no surprise that Dorsal A stood out in the crowd. But variances are rarely so obvious. Here are a few more of Golfo Dulce’s Bottlenose dolphins to test your discerning eye:

There are similarities. But take note of EVERY mark—especially nicks and notches in the trailing edge that could be seen from either side. Would you recognize these individuals if you saw them again? With side-by-side photos, I suppose you would.

Okay, so now you are probably wondering, why go to so much trouble?

Researchers create Foto-ID catalogs and databases to expand scientific understanding of dolphin populations and their habitats. That is my goal for the Golfo Dulce group and I hope to rally other Golfo Dulce researchers to collaborate. By combining current, historical and future photos, our database will have broader impact. But good science is only part of it. I am also sharing my Foto-ID images to serve outreach programs.  

Familiarity breeds a sense of responsibility—we are more likely to help those we know—so Osa Conservation has been working on a Community Dolphin Project to introduce the locals to the most recognizable and/or commonly seen individuals. By connecting people with their dolphin neighbors they will hopefully be inspired to protect them… and the gulf.

For me it’s a circle of work. Wildlife. Science. Knowledge-sharing. Conservation. And if I’m lucky enough to meet a few dolphins in the loop, how in the world could I complain?

As you know, I recently attended the American Cetacean Society Conference in California. There Dr. Pat Halpin succinctly stated, “Effective marine spatial planning requires accurate, detailed and accessible information on marine life.”  Indeed, collecting and publishing such information was the exact goal of our multi-species marine sighting survey in Costa Rica!

So, I am excited to announce that our 2010 whale, dolphin and sea turtle data has been added to OBIS SEAMAP: http://seamap.env.duke.edu/datasets/detail/708.  OBIS (Ocean Biogeographic Information System) is an international marine species database that assists in the identification of biodiversity hotspots and large-scale ecological patterns around the globe. 

By providing the first data for Golfo Dulce, we have put it on the map—so to speak—and decision makers now have access to baseline information, which may prove helpful when evaluating marine spatial planning initiatives (like a tuna farm). It is one more step forward in my effort to reveal the abundance of marine life that makes Golfo Dulce such a rich and important habitat.