Flying low and slow over endangered whale

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I am fortunate enough to spend many of my working days in a small airplane with two other scientists and two pilots searching for the North Atlantic right whale (Eubalena glacialis).

When we see one, we fly overhead and photograph it from above. According to the data-sharing group, the North Atlantic Right Whale Consortium (NARWC), that angle lets us identify individual whales, which is important in this rare species: only 409 animals are believed to have survived.

The plane, a de Havilland Twin Otter, is owned by my employer, the US National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration. We need to fly 'low and slow' over the ocean to see the whales and take pictures, so we just fly 305 meters. The design of the aircraft allows us to fly 'slow' at a speed of 185 kmph. The view of the bubble window below the High Wing, from where I am looking in this photo, is phenomenal.

The photos and data we collect become part of a widely used data set that is shared among researchers at NARWC. And when we find three or more whales together, outside their protected gathering areas, it warns of slowing down the ships to avoid fatal collisions.

I've never had an emergency in the air, although there have been tragedies in the near-right-whale research community. I thought about the risks in 2009 before the birth of my first child.

The pandemic has grounded us since March 16, and when we are talking about resuming aerial surveys, I have the same thoughts about the risk. I'm not just putting myself at risk. My exposure can affect my family and my community.

I've devoted my entire career to this species and it's hard to watch them go extinct. I instead want to live life to the fullest and save these whales from human harm rather than not taking the risk.