SAVE THE WHALES! No, Really. Save.the.whales.

I was absorbed in a (what I've discovered to be fictional) documentary about mermaids, when the marine biologist in me decided it was time to raise some awareness.  Not about the (all too convincing) evidence of real mermaids; but about the dire effects of sonar transmissions to marine life in open waters.

I'm guessing this urge to protect wildlife stems back from the day I learned that the trees produced the oxygen we breathe.  Maybe everyone's initial response isn't an overwhelming love for nature, but mine was.

The United States Navy uses sonar as a training mechanism, as well as a mapping tool.  The sonar can detect something, such as a foreign submarine tutting towards our coast, from up to 300 miles away.

My concern here, though, lies with the dolphins, whales and orcas; who literally lie, beached on the sand, because they, along with other marine mammals, attempt to get as far away from the sonar as possible.

National security has been the government hype word since 9/11.  All you have to say is you're doing something for the sake of 'national security' and all of the sudden, no more questions asked.  At what point does our own 'national security' (guarding against our own kind) outweigh the security of the things that do no evil to us.  (Yes, there are shark attacks, but that's nature, folks!)

Alex Stone, an environmental program manager with the Navy's Pacific Fleet, told NPR in April of this year, "We think that the mitigation measures are effective, but it's true. I mean, you're never going to see every marine mammal that's there."

An article from 2005 in the Sydney Morning Herald (GOOD READ)

Sonar has been linked to hearing loss in sea life, as well as deterring whales from feeding.  Marine Mammal Science claims the animals even stop vocalizing during the sonar transmissions. Just like the echolocation used by these mammals to communicate and navigate, the sonar emits low frequency sound waves that can travel up to four times as fast underwater, according to marine scientist Brandon Southall in the NPR interview.

And what efforts for mitigation do they take, you might ask.  At least according to Stone, they have lookouts to make sure no marine life is around.  Now, riddle me this: Can we see from the top of a ship to the bottom-most depths of the ocean?

The article, 'Does Military Sonar Kill Marine Wildlife?' in Scientific American claims, ". . . evidence shows that whales will swim hundreds of miles, rapidly change their depth (sometime leading to bleeding from the eyes and ears), and even beach themselves to get away from the sounds of sonar."

While I am glad they will admit there is no way of knowing if the marine life is affected, I am hard-pressed to believe that there is no other way of training.

Luckily, the answers may be out there, it's just up to us to make them listen.  All thanks to Dr. Paul Nachtigall, a researcher from Hawaii, who was interviewed in 'Whales Can Adjust Their Hearing', a BBC Nature News story from 2012.

My passion is for life and the living.  For the breathing, be it through lungs, gills or photosynthesis.  And the pursuit against mindless killing of all things.  We all serve a purpose, and we all impact the world in our own way.  When the cost of our actions is life, and there is another way around it, we should act differently.

 Are we willing to sacrifice the mysteries that lurk beneath the ocean just in case another country decides to send a submarine our way?

"There aren’t other government agencies out there proposing activities that will have anywhere near this level of impact on wildlife, much of which is endangered. The Navy seems very proud of the fact that it has conducted such a “comprehensive” (in its opinion) analysis of impacts. But where’s the pride in its development of alternatives that allow it to achieve its training and testing needs, while dramatically reducing the impact to whales and dolphins?"

-Zak Smith of the Natural Resources Defense Council

According to the NPR story, it's the National Marine Fisheries Service that has domain over these practices.  I say it's about time to send some research their way.

The Delta Queen Hotel - Chattanooga, TN

"What room are ya'll in?" asked the black man with a white long-sleeved polo shirt tucked tightly into his belted dark slacks.

We were standing behind a gate on the loading deck to, what I would come to find out, was the historical Delta Queen Hotel.  And by 'Hotel' I mean Steamboat.  And even 'boat' is an understatement at the sight of this massive, four-story authentic river cruiser.  The stars were out and my nose was running from the frigidity of the riverside breeze.

A 1966 provision to the Safety of Life at Sea Act was meant to dock the steamboat because of it's primarily wooden framework.  Advocates and owners of the passenger cruise petitioned, successfully, for extensions to Presidents Nixon and continued chugging down rivers until 2008. Which brings us to the locked gate on a loading dock in Chattanooga before an astounding, floating bed & breakfast.

After revealing our name and room number, the bald man with pinched eyebrows checked us out a moment longer before grabbing the door knob and welcoming us aboard the Delta Queen.

"Did you try the code?" he asked.  His bottom lip pouched outward and his words were quick and slathered with a raspy southern accent.

Gaining some trust by helping him give the broken door knob the once over, his demeanor towards us changed altogether.  While escorting us through the wooden french doors, he proudly pronounced his prestige as the longest-running crew member aboard the Delta Queen.  Clabon, who shook Nick's hand and gave me a hug, was on board for the steamboat's final cruise.

While traversing the steep, antiquated pine green and floral-print carpeted staircase pointing straight towards a diamond chandelier, we were invited to coffee in the lobby.  Upon entering, it was impossible to overlook how busy the room was with bookshelves and blown-up, black & white photographs lining the walls adorned by lavish, gold frames.  Not so much with other people.

Despite the late hour, we gladly accepted his invitation.

Two cups of slowly sipped coffee later, we were well versed on the Delta Queen's reputation for housing the Navy during World War II; the rumored haunting, supposedly by the first-ever lady captain of a steamboat, Capt. Mary Greene (chairs flinging from beneath tables in deserted rooms in front of bartenders); the wild parties in the Texas Lounge, now home to The Paddlewheel Restaurant and Bar; and especially this wonderful employee's pride in working the third shift aboard the distinguished boat.

When we finally made our exit toward the room, exploration ensued.  I was mesmerized by the library of history books and novels, along with National Geographic magazines dating back to the late 19th Century.  Colorless photographs littered the shelves, full of people dressed in cocktail dresses and tuxedos sipping cocktails or posing for a portrait.

Paintings of Capt. Mary Greene and her family gave Clabon's supernatural stories some clout, just before bedtime, of course.  After reading plaques inscribed with the history surrounding us, we ventured onto the deck with a view of the artfully constructed, blue walking bridge and the Tennessee River.  Currently, the bridge is decorated with electric white snowflakes.  Their reflections, along with car lights sweeping across the water, had my eyes darting around, on the lookout for ghosts as we chatted in rocking chairs on the fourth floor of the Delta Queen.

By the time we reentered the undersized door (equipped with a real key and everything!), I was content with the limited space inside the room.  While it was rather snug, and the water for the shower had to run for 45 minutes simply to get warm, I would recommend a stay at the Delta Queen Hotel for anyone willing to forgo the luxuries of modern hotel rooms and subdue to the close quarters of an eerily interesting piece of American river history.  According to Clabon, Capt. Mary isn't too fond of technology, either, having several guests report odd incidents involving computers during their stay on the steamboat.

Did I mention you get free breakfast, too?  (It's okay, to be honest.  Maybe not five star, but, again, it's free and hot.)