Article Written by Julia Sowden, Tanglemist
I was a young child when for a birthday treat, my Dad took me to Battersea Park in South London to see the Dolphins. I remember standing at the edge of the pool conducting the two poor Dolphins as they sang “Happy Birthday” to me.
The following year, my Mother took me to Windsor Safari Park where I squealed in delight at being splashed by Ramu The Killer Whale. I look back on those memories with shame, and extreme sadness. I know my parents knew no better at that time, and just wanted to make me happy. I know if they were alive today they would be filled with regret, and as ashamed and sorry as I.
Especially poignant to me now is knowing that Ramu, along with Lolita, was also a victim of the Penn Cove round up in 1970. Perhaps they were related. While Lolita was flown to her buyers in Miami, Florida, Ramu was flown across the sea to begin his life of entertaining the crowds in England. A few years later he was sold to Seaworld and flown back to the U.S.A., dying of heart and kidney failure in 1986.
In my adult years a growing awareness of animal suffering and injustice led me along many paths – cat and dog rescue, marches, protests and vigils etc. But with Cetaceans in captivity around the world a sense of helplessness prevailed. What could I do? I saw Blackfish on the television and wept for Tilikum as did so many others. It was about 2015 though before I became aware of Lolita and her story, and began to share posts about her on Facebook. I cried for her, and felt such a sense of anger and frustration that she was still entertaining the crowds, still in that same tiny pool!
Then came a turning point in my personal fight for Lolita, as well as another Orca stolen from the wild and kept in captivity.
In March 2016 I had an extremely vivid dream. I was standing at the edge of a grey walled tank, and a Dolphin was there, speaking to me in a Dolphin voice. She said, “Boudica! Help Honey. PLEEEAASE! Killer Whale. Hurting! Help Honey!” Then the vision was of an Orca repeatedly slamming her head into the grey wall of her tank.
I awoke in a state. Who was Honey? Who was Boudica? A friend who did dream interpretation told me, “Boudica was a warrior woman who fought for freedom. Boudica is you.” I immediately searched the internet for Orcas in captivity called Honey, but drew a blank. So then I searched for Dolphins in captivity called Honey. There were two! And one of them was at Loro Parque in Tenerife, along with an Orca called Morgan.
A co-incidence or not, a few days later while flicking through the channels on TV I came across a documentary about an Orca captured from the wild and now in captivity – it was Morgan. And just two days later, a video pops up in my newsfeed on Facebook of Morgan slamming her head against the same grey wall of her tank, just as I had been shown in my dream. I HAD to do something! Not just for Morgan, but for Lolita also. I was fired up! I wrote emails, sent letters, shared on social media.
But what else could I do?
I’m lucky enough to be a singer/songwriter in a band called Tanglemist, along with my husband Andi. (Our name, incidentally, comes from a wild, free whale named Tanglemoost by a friend of ours). We play a lot of festivals and gigs and get to meet many different people from all walks of life.
Our music is varied, and I sing about many different things, but we always include at least one song for the animals, sometimes two or three, depending on our set length, and I always speak about the cause before we play the song – informing our audience of what’s going on that they otherwise might not be aware of, what they can do to help, how they can find out more information.
Sometimes, I bet they think, “Oh here she goes – on her soapbox again”, but for all those who have listened and come and spoken with me afterwards, sometimes moved to tears, wanting to know more, and those who have then got involved because they happened to see us play and heard a particular song (and my little rant) that moved them to do something, I’m very humbled and feel I’ve achieved something.
One day, not long after my dream, I was waiting in a car park on our way to a band rehearsal while Andi went to get me a coffee, and a song for Lolita, who I now called Toki, came to me. By the time Andi got back to the car, I had the entire song on my voice recorder (thank heavens for voice recorders!). It’s not often a song comes just like that. And so “Stolen Freedom” was born, and we have played it and I have spoken for her and told her story at gigs and festivals ever since. When we play Stolen Freedom live, I always end it with my frame drum and a chant:
“Tokitae, Tokitae, That’s what they called me,
Nice days and pretty colours are a distant memory
Tokitae, Tokitae, I miss my family
And the song of the ocean that still calls to me.”
My love of frame drums perhaps comes from my little known about Blackfoot nation ancestry on my mother’s side, and the Lummi nation’s ongoing fight for their relative Sk’aliCh’elh-tenaut has touched my heart so profoundly. Their Totem pole journey for her moved me to tears as I watched on my computer at home here in England, and I wished I could be there with them.
Which brings me to another dream I had, one I awoke from with a fully formed chant in my head.
Recently, we have been guests on a radio show, where I was able to talk about Toki and Stolen Freedom was played. A musician awaiting his hour following ours told me he was moved to tears hearing her story.
We are also nearing completion of an album of 13 songs just for the animals, and Stolen Freedom will be one of them.
The album features many guest musicians, some from very well known bands, and we will be giving this album to animal rights and rescue groups to help raise funds for their cause.
Proceeds from any we sell personally will be put back into the production of more so we can continue to donate where needed.
And what for Toki?
She has endured, she has had such strength of will, and despite all odds, continues to want to live, but like so many of us, I worry about her health now. I desperately want her to be fit and well, and for our quest to see her once again in her native waters come to fruition.
A sea pen where she will still be fed and looked after, but where she can feel the tides, swim, dive and breach as she should, start catching her own food at will, and to be able to see and communicate with her own pod again …. “Hi Mom, I’ve come home”.
Ultimately, nothing would make me happier than for her to eventually be reunited with her pod and swim free, but for now, let’s just see her out of the hot Florida sun, out of that tiny pool and to a sea pen in the Salish sea where she belongs and so needs.
If you want to know when the album is released, or want to come to a gig, please like our Tanglemist page on Facebook.
