BY KYRA BACON
Some people spent their labor-day weekend sleeping, hanging out at a friend’s house, or having a BBQ. Others, like me, spent their weekend at the beach. However, they probably weren’t carrying buckets of water to pour on sunburned whales.
On Saturday, September 1st, at about 4:00am, a fisherman spotted a group of whales stranding themselves on a beach in Ft. Pierce, Florida. The waves tossed them around; smacking them against the sand and then dragging them back out into the wild surf. The man called the local Marine Rescue and nearby Red Cross and they immediately made their way over with tents, buckets, towels, and a big roll of caution tape at the scene.
Twenty-one pilot whales were dragged in by 8:00am. Unfortunately, due to lack of volunteers in the early morning, two of the whales had passed on due the sun’s harsh rays.
My family and I, who have a house in Ft. Pierce, were driving around the city on our way to see a movie on the day of the incident. We were just five minutes away from the scene when my dad received a call from a friend that he used to work with at MARS (Marine Animal Rescue Service), notifying him about the stranded whales. With a screech of the wheels, my dad made an impressive U-turn in the direction of the beach. From 12:30pm until 5:15pm, my family and I relentlessly worked. My dad took care of the alpha whale, my mom was sponge-bathing two babies in a blow up pool, and my sister and I carried buckets after buckets of ocean water around to all the whales to help cool them off. At some points, my work changed and I was spreading towels over the whales to keep them from getting sunburned. At about 2:30pm, a 5th baby whale was carried halfway across the beach to the site where it joined the others under a main tent. I couldn’t believe how many whales were lying helplessly on the beach, depending only on the kindness of unknown people.
Altogether, there were about 300 volunteers who had helped, including some who just happened to come to the beach that Saturday and decided to lend a helping hand. Many of them grew close to a few of the whales, and it was heart wrenching to witness when they were told the news that many would not make it. By 3:30pm, all five babies were lifted onto stretchers, loaded into vans and driven the few miles to Harbor Branch, where they would care for the animals. The other 15 whales would be put to sleep. 
During the time, I didn’t think about it, but when I reflect back, tears fill my eyes.
Almost two hours passed before the lethal injections put down the 10-foot alpha whale, the last one. The volunteers began to pack up and set off, never to see the whales again, but not our family.
My dad volunteered for the 6:00am shift at Harbor Branch the next day to help take care of the babies. At 10:00am, when my mother, sister and I came to pick him up, I glimpsed my first sight of the baby whales since they were transported 18 hours before. Each one looked cheerful and happy, swimming around the 60-foot circular pool. It was then I heard that they were leaving for SeaWorld on Thursday, September 6th, where they would join the team for the rest of their lives. I also noticed that the four older babies, teenagers you could call them, stuck together. A smile spread across my face and I knew that they would make it.
But I was not over-joyful. Not all of them did make it. The awful truth struck home…only 4 out of 22 whales survived. But then I considered the possibility of what might have happened if nobody had noticed the whales at all. How all of them would have baked in the sun and died painfully. This way, at least, they passed away in comfort. The memory of the whales, I knew, would never leave me.
I found out a few days later that the story had made it onto the Huffington Post. A nationally-reported story that I was a part of? Cool! I made a difference in the whales’ lives that day. I was just 1 out of 300 people, but it was one of the most amazing experiences of my life.
