Joshua Zeman

Digital download from 4 April

IN 1989, the Woods Hole Oceanographic Institution in Massachusetts detected an unknown sonic presence at 52 hertz. It was initially thought to be from a submarine, but marine biologist William Watkins later determined that it was the sonar signature of a whale, which he gave the nickname “52”.

It is an unusually high frequency for whale vocalisations, and Watkins was intrigued enough to search for 52 until his death in 2004. But despite picking up 52’s call every year, Watkins never found the mysterious whale.

In The Loneliest Whale: The Search for 52, US film-maker Joshua Zeman picks up the search where Watkins left off, and sets out to find a whale that has since taken on almost mythical proportions.

Why 52 calls at this frequency is also a mystery – the whale’s species hasn’t been confirmed, and it is possible that it is the only one of its kind in the ocean. The one thing we do know is that 52 is almost certainly a he: male whales do the singing.

The reason for 52’s presumed loneliness has nothing to do with the fact that he has always been detected swimming alone. Instead, it is because the unique frequency of his call means that other whales can’t understand to respond. With 52’s unique call as the only lead, Zeman launches a seven-day search mission with bioacoustics specialist John Hildebrand and research biologist John Calambokidis.

They begin in the waters off California, at the Port of Los Angeles – the busiest container port in the western hemisphere. Their initial hopes aren’t high: the Pacific Ocean is deep and wide and the chances of finding 52 seem roughly the same as those of 52 finding a mate.

Zeman’s documentary has a strong sense of exploration and ambition: he believes he can locate 52, who has become the Moby Dick to Zeman’s Ahab. Although there is an underlying sense of excitement as to whether 52 can finally be found, there is a human aspect to the search and a personal story behind Zeman’s fascination.

In our increasingly connected world where contact and interaction is only the click of a button away, the fact that so many people still report feeling lonely makes it easy to identify with 52’s situation. There is something deeply affecting about a creature as intelligent and social as we know whales to be, swimming the vast ocean, year after year, never having any proper contact with another of its kind.

This, combined with a growing awareness of the harm that human activity has caused whales, has made 52 something of a focal point for whale conservation, with articles, poems and even a song by the K-pop band BTS about his plight.

Yet this is a story that goes deeper than just one whale. Whale populations are still under threat from hunting, pollution, climate change and collisions with ships. Even if they avoid these perils, the noise of shipping can drown out a whale’s calls, regardless of the frequency it may use. Arguably, Zeman’s quest says more about our collective guilt about this state of affairs than it does about our desire to solve the scientific mysteries surrounding 52.

Finding him is never a foregone conclusion. In fact, as 52 has never been seen or even definitively proven to exist, some within the scientific community are sceptical there is even a 52 to find.

Zeman’s attempt to create a sense of thrill and adventure as he embarks on his quest is hit-and-miss. Exciting footage of the search is punctuated with evocative images of the oceans, which makes the documentary’s tone feel inconsistent. At times, there isn’t enough to elevate the film above being a group of people spending time in a boat. At least not until the closing moments, when it appears that the team’s efforts may not have been in vain.

Overall, The Loneliest Whale: The Search for 52 offers a moving insight into a legendary whale and Zeman’s curiosity is infectious. Frustratingly, though, there isn’t enough discussion and explanation of the science behind whale communication, which leaves viewers, much like Zeman, wondering if they might have missed something important along the way.

“The footage reveals the pair’s charmingly innocent wonder and fascination for their subject”

Film

Jacob Morrison

HOME to more than 39 million people, California is the most populous US state. It is also among the driest. Together, these factors make demand for water a long-standing challenge. River’s End, a new documentary by Jacob Morrison, dives deep into the water crisis and asks difficult questions about who gets the water and why.

At the centre of the film is the Sacramento-San Joaquin river delta, an estuary in the north of the state. Connecting the Sacramento and San Joaquin rivers, the delta is a key source of fresh water and the battleground for the latest California water war.

In 2015, then-governor Jerry Brown and the California Department of Water Resources proposed a $15 billion plan now known as California WaterFix & EcoRestore that would see two large tunnels built from the Sacramento river under the delta to provide water for California. Inevitably, not everyone agrees with the plan: the tunnels would redirect water towards southern California, reducing freshwater supplies to farmers around the delta.

Narrated by DeLanna Studi, River’s End combines stock footage of landscapes around the delta and other parts of California, which highlights the fluctuating water supply levels, with simple animation to bring an educational slant and explain the extent and significance of the issue. With interviewees including politicians, corporate officials and local farmers, Morrison delivers a bleak yet brutally honest insight into the battle for water.

The documentary touches briefly on supply disputes in the early 20th century in the Owens valley and its role in the California water wars, which comprised a number of political conflicts between local farmers and the City of Los Angeles over water rights. But its main thrust examines how current supply issues are causing conflict between regional corporations and local farmers.

Both sides say they need water to run their businesses, but it soon becomes clear that the local communities don’t have nearly as much government support as the corporations. There is testimony from frustrated local farmers who rely on water from the delta to grow their produce and say their livelihoods have been affected, not only by a lack of supply, but also by pumping facilities, which take water away from the area.

The situation in the Westlands Water District in central California proves particularly enlightening. Its connections with ex-President Donald Trump (via former Westlands lobbyist David Bernhardt), a focus on lucrative yet thirsty almond farming and the substantial difference in living conditions between farm owners and workers in the field paint a stark picture of the power and influence of large corporations.

Although the corporation-versus-the-little-person narrative is all too recognisable, the documentary also zooms out further to highlight the consequences on the wider environment and the wildlife that also relies on it for survival. Among the locally endangered species mentioned is the delta smelt, a fish species that is close to extinction due to the ongoing damage to the delta’s ecosystem.

River’s End provides a thorough overview of California’s water issues and the need to achieve a sustainable water supply. It ends with a solemn message. As the state’s population continues to grow, it remains unclear whether there will be enough water to meet the requirements of all those who need it. In the end, it may come down to who needs, or perhaps who wants, it more.