World Report: September 18, 1998 Vol.4 No.2
- This Issue:
- Table of Contents
- Cover Story
- Cover Story - Spanish Version
- Mini-Lesson
- Comprehension Quiz
- Teacher's Guide and Worksheets
Keiko Goes Home
Most killer whales swim thousands of miles in their lifetime. They travel long distances while hunting seals, sea lions and dolphins. Killer whales, also called orcas, travel in family groups called pods. They glide gracefully through the water, using their mighty tails to steer.
But Keiko (kay-ko), the killer whale that starred in the 1993 movie Free Willy, has not lived that life. Keiko has done more long-distance flying than swimming! In 1982 he made his first flight, from Iceland to Canada. Since then, Keiko has taken airplane rides from Canada to Mexico and from Mexico to Newport, Oregon.
Last week he made his final flight. Strapped into a special harness and covered in a cream to keep his skin moist, Keiko was hoisted onto a United Parcel Service truck and then onto a plane fitted with a water tank. Eight hours later, the world-famous orca was finally home.
A Whale Of A Trail
Keiko's journey began in the frosty blue waters of the Atlantic Ocean near Iceland, where he was born about 20 years ago. At age 2, he was captured and taken to an aquarium in Iceland. He would never swim with his pod again.
Soon after that, he was moved to an aquarium in Canada and began performing tricks for people. But he didn't make his big splash until an aquarium in Mexico bought him. That's where he landed the lead whale role in Free Willy. The hit movie made Keiko a Hollywood heavyweight.
In the movie, Keiko's character suffers through awful living conditions in a theme park. In real life, Keiko's situation wasn't any better. His pool at the aquarium in Mexico was too small and too warm. His skin, once glossy and slick, broke out in sores. And the big fin on his back, called a dorsal fin, flopped sadly over to one side.
Keiko's fans rushed to his rescue. A group called the Free Willy Keiko Foundation raised enough money to fly him from Mexico to a specially built pool in Newport, Oregon, in 1996. In his cool new pool (just 45°F), Keiko's health improved right away. His skin sores disappeared, and he gained 2,000 pounds. Soon he was strong enough for a journey home.
Home Sweet Home
While Keiko was getting stronger at the aquarium in Oregon, his caretakers were busy designing a new home for him in Iceland. Because Keiko had lived almost his whole life in captivity, it
was too risky just to set him free. He might not know how to hunt for food or avoid his natural enemies. But the caretakers wanted Keiko to swim in the ocean instead of a man-made pool.
The solution was to build a giant floating pen in the North Atlantic Ocean. The pen is 250 feet long and has walls made of special nets so that fish swim in and out. Keiko can see and hear nearby whales and birds. "This is the best thing for Keiko," says Bob Ratliffe of the Free Willy Keiko Foundation. "Killer whales weren't meant to live in concrete pools."
Last week Keiko floated on a barge, past Iceland's 800-foot volcanic cliffs, on his way to his new home. There he was lowered carefully into the water. Keiko moved slowly at first, but then he seemed to relax. He even exchanged friendly noises with a dolphin that swam up to his pen. Says Ratliffe: "We couldn't have dreamed this would happen so soon."
Will He Ever Go Free?
Not everyone agrees that moving Keiko was a good idea. Some people say the move was stressful and he should have been left where he was. Others are worried that Keiko will not be able to
hunt or communicate with other whales near the pen.
Keiko's caretakers say they will continue to feed him as long as necessary. If he doesn't learn the ways of wild whales, he will stay in his pen. Says Naomi Rose, a scientist with the Humane Society of the United States: "Keiko will decide if he's ready to be released."
If he is set free someday, will he be able to rejoin his pod? No one knows. Every pod of orcas has its own system of noises and sounds. Although it has been nearly 20 years since he last swam with his pod, there is a chance that Keiko will recognize its language or that its members will recognize his noises. Rose is hopeful. "They're his family," she says. "I'd like to think they're going to remember him."
Next: A Troubling Report

