Yes. I have personally worked with rescuers during two.
Picture it: Key West, 2005. I’ve recently moved here after twelve years in downtown NYC. I’ve completed a “Basic Stranding Response and Animal Handling” workshop with the Florida Keys Marine Mammal Rescue Team, plus I work part-time for Wildlife Rescue of the Florida Keys. A male bottlenose dolphin strands itself in shallows across from the airport.
My job is to march into the water, fully dressed, and grab hold of the 7-foot wild animal hoping to keep its blowhole above water. I stayed with him until the Marine Mammal Rescue Team arrived in their proper wetsuits with their waterproof headsets. I got out an got interviewed by the Citizen. Then, I called everyone I’d ever met to tell them what had just happened. It was a HUGE day for me, being skin-on-skin, eye to eye with a wild dolphin. If you are wondering what a dolphin’s skin feels like, the answer is wet latex. And no, the air from a whale’s blowhole doesn’t smell like anything, but I’m told an unpleasant-smelling blowhole can indicate illness.

Photo courtesy of Mike Hentz/The Citizen
Later, the dolphin died: his necropsy revealed brain parasites.
The second stranding I worked occurred on Thursday May 5, 2011. A pod of pilot whales, normally deep-sea creatures, stranded of Cudjoe Key. Of the 18 recovered, 11 quickly died. 2 healthy males were successfully released into deep water. The Marine Mammal Conservancy cared for 5 animals in the tranquil lagoon at the end of Blimp Road.
I was one of hundreds of people who volunteered with these animals. The two calves, two females, and a very sick male needed to be held around the clock for four days until they were well enough to transfer to the Marine Mammal Conservancy’s facility in Key Largo. Several members of MMC were on the site 24-7. No one there was getting paid.
Possibly, one of the pod’s matriarchs got sick or injured, so she sought shallow water, hoping to rest on the ground while keeping her blowhole above water, and the pod followed. More likely, an illness spread through the pod, as very few survived the beaching.
As rescuers, our main job was to keep the animal’s blow hole above water: let it breathe and keep it from aspirating sea water, but hold it securely so it cannot do further damage to itself thrashing around in the shallows. The skin must be kept moist by “wetting, not petting–” run water over the whales’ skin so it doesn’t dry out or sunburn. If you rub with your hands, a dolphin’s delicate skin can rub off. In the case of the pilot whales, two to four volunteers at a time held the animal 24-7 while vets and MMC staff performed tests, administered fluids, and gavaged food.
On my first night with the pilot whales, the two calves talked constantly, emitting a constant stream of high-pitched whistles, buzzes and clicks. I found the sounds mournful, and had to keep reminding myself that I did not understand their intention; these weren’t necessarily distress calls just because they sounded sad. After that first evening, they were much quieter.
Finally, on Tuesday, May 10, the pilot whales were transferred (via a refrigerated Publix truck) to the Key Largo facility. The sickly male was euthanized, and the female died. Both calves survived and were sent, in a controversial decision, to Sea World. They were too young to return to the wild on their own.
IF YOU WITNESS A MARINE MAMMAL IN DISTRESS IN THE FLORIDA KEYS, call 1 (888) 404-FWCC
