To understand the plight of North Atlantic right whales is to follow the migratory path of a mother-calf pair. From calving grounds off southeastern U.S. to feeding grounds off northeastern Canada-U.S., the pair communicates by whispering, mostly swimming close to the surface about 1,000 miles/season. Along the way, they face great risks—fishing gear entanglements and ship strikes are leading threats—while climate change and noise pollution pose rising and unforeseen dangers.
What’s particularly worrisome is that right whales are dying in American-Canadian waters faster than they can reproduce. Of the more than 300 remaining whales, fewer than 70 are reproductively active females. The population is down from a peak of approximately 480 whales over a decade ago, compared to a population estimated at 10 times that 500 years ago.
The migratory route—across the Canada-U.S. border and into international waters—requires cross-border protections. Canada-U.S. agrees the whales are endangered, having issued federal protections, while a significant die-off in 2017—when 17 of the whales turned up dead—prompted the U.S. to open an "Unusual Mortality Event investigation."
And yet, cross-border management is a misnomer. While Canada and the U.S. are the closest of allies, they consult one another rather than co-manage. As the whales migrate, they also cross critical marine habitats, lucrative fishing zones, municipal and state/provincial ports and borders, and come into contact with the international shipping industry.
Saving North Atlantic right whales—which rarely die of natural causes—requires ambitious policy and action. But as this series by The Globe and Mail shows, politics at every port, border, and fishing zone threaten to undermine progress.