Encounters with Leviathan
(Continued from previous page)

Potter has been involved in a variety of studies over the years. His first project was developing a sub-sea habitat to study herring eggs on the ocean floor. Such a habitat was necessary because eggs and larvae are very delicate and not easily moved. Also, on the ocean floor, the eggs are under three atmospheres of pressure, which is hard to duplicate in an onshore lab. Since the herring were so endangered, the scientists needed to observe them in their natural environment to study the role of predators, currents and weather in their survival.

Potter has cataloged the aftermath of over-fishing ("I've seen spots on the ocean floor off George's Bank that look like a well-graded gravel parking lot"), and he's spent weeks at a time on a research vessel at sea researching cod and haddock populations. Once, when surveying whales from a helicopter in the Great South Channel, the pilot had to perform an emergency rescue, pulling a fisherman to safety from a burning boat. He's led seal "rodeos" to round up, count and radio-tag the animals. He's "shot" dolphins ("I used to give a slide-show presentation called 'The Man Who Shot Dolphins' about how we'd take a plug of the animal with a special crossbow then perform a biopsy for study"). Chances are, if it swims, crawls, floats or breaches in the North Atlantic Ocean, Potter can tell you all about it.

Potter uses a reconnaissance camera fitted into the belly of a plane to photograph whales from the sky. From these images he can measure whales to the centimeter. Photo by Silvio Bujo.

One of his greatest successes came during his tenure as acting director of the Protected Species Branch of NOAA during the mid-1990s. At the time, fishermen were accidentally netting 2,000 harbor porpoise a year, a significant blow to a population of just 56,000 animals. Through cooperative efforts with the industry, Potter and his team came up with a pinging device to hook on fishing nets that used the animal's own instincts to deter it from danger. Now fewer than 400 porpoise get caught a year, well under a sustainable number for the species.

His curiosity about the natural world around him extends to his home and family. The Potter household in Falmouth, just north of Woods Hole, includes plenty of wildlife, including four teenagers, a parakeet, five horses (one wild mustang rescued through the Bureau of Land Management), dogs, cats, and a 70-gallon saltwater fish tank with live coral.

Both at work and at home Potter respects an animal's right not to be needlessly harassed by humans even in the name of doing good. This is the delicate balance that informs his work every day.

Potter and his colleagues jokingly refer to whales as "charismatic megafauna" for their ability to arouse affection in humans. "Cetaceans are loved the world over," explains Potter. "Even I'm not immune. I've been watching these creatures for 27 years. If a pod of dolphins or a sea turtle comes into view, I'll keep on working. But a whale? I always stop to see it." One sighting stands out above all the others.

Potter tells of following a pod of killer whales off the coast of Alaska a few years ago. "They're the apex predator on the planet. It is fascinating to watch them work as a group." The research ship cruised along, and white-sided dolphins came by to frolic in the bow wake. At the first sight of the dolphins, the killer whales dove in complete synchronicity, disappearing under the boat.

"Then a female came out of the water like a Poseidon missile," remembers Potter, "with a dolphin in her mouth. She smacked it on the water and let the stunned animal swim away, making it easy prey for two juvenile whales in the pod. She was teaching them how to hunt."

Potter's small office looks out over what is actually Woods Hole: a small channel between islands leading into the harbor. Sailboats glide by, ferries bring passengers to and from Martha's Vineyard, and sea roses are a riot of pink at water's edge. A stuffed whale mobile bobs in the breeze. He talks on the phone with the Provincetown crew about the welfare of Churchill. Canadian officials are working with them to organize another attempt at sedating the animal and removing the imbedded fishing line.

"Every right whale we lose is a huge blow," says Potter. "In many ways our time is running out." Potter is sympathetic to Churchill's plight, but he knows that to prevent more deaths, he must focus on the right whale population as a whole. He may not be able to save 1102, but he can utilize advanced technology to study the whales and look for answers. And with a little luck, he can find a way to save the North Atlantic right whale from extinction. ~

Carol Connare '88 is senior associate editor at Yankee magazine.

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