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I hear the animal-rights folks have their knickers in a twist because a 3-year-old killer whale died last week at Marineland. It wouldn't have happened, they say, if the whale was in the wild, or in this case, ocean. Since the calf died of a twisted intestine not even his excellently trained handlers could have detected, and since I know for a fact there are no practicing whale internists under the sea, I think it fair to say that handsome young whale would have died anyway. Maybe sooner. Whales die all the time. Sometimes the whole pod swims up on a beach and, despite the valiant efforts of animal lovers, dies.
I know many people decry aquariums and zoos because wildlife should be left in their own habitats. Frankly, if we followed that reasoning we'd have a few more extinct species and a thousand more endangered ones. Breeding programs are all well and good, but the source of the funding for those programs is people who patronize aquariums and zoos. So many of us had to cancel our safari in Kenya when the stock market tanked.
Besides, I recently visited Marineland and had the best time I've had in years. This despite the fact I had to walk at least 400 miles in at least 100-degree temperatures. OK, I may be exaggerating about the miles, but my group insisted on seeing the whole park twice, in some cases thrice, and we are talking a lot of acres.
Each of my group had his or her own agenda. The leader of the pack wanted to ensure we savor each venue at least twice, and as I said, he achieved his goal. The young man in our group said he didn't like rides -- more's the pity because I saw some really cunning rides in the children's section that looked my speed. But he did love the animals, from the tiny tame denizens of Deer Park, to the grandstanding bears in their grotto, to the mangy buffalo. Apparently, it's molting season, so we have some truly bad hair days going on in the buffalo herd. My favorite were the elk, which have noses that feel like velvet.
The lady in the group -- this would not be me -- loves scary rides. I had promised her I would accompany her on the fabled Marineland roller coaster. I was drunk at the time, but a promise is a promise. Unfortunately, I got into the derring-do mode before we reached the roller coaster. So, while the men enjoyed an ice cream, I got on a deceptively harmless-looking ride called, I believe, the Dragon's Teeth. It went up a few times, then down a few times, then went over a few times. No more challenging than the Tilt-a-Whirl, I figured. In retrospect, that sign at the entrance, suggesting that folks with a medical condition give the ride a miss, should have been a wake-up call. But how did I know a scrawny neck constituted a medical problem? Once we got rolling, mine was snapping back and forth like a pinata at a party for hyperactive 5-year-olds.
Which isn't to say I didn't enjoy the whiplash. The leader snapped a photo of me as I exited the ride grinning like a fool. Unfortunately, that took a bit of the spring out of my step as I approached the roller coaster from perdition. You have to walk through a huge dragon's mouth to get inside, where it is very, very dark. Yes, dear readers, I chickened out. The young lady went on the ride alone and said it wasn't nearly as scary as the Dragon's Teeth. Apparently, they bolt you into the seat, so scrawny necks are no problem.
Of course, at the top of my Marineland agenda was seeing the brand-new baby beluga whales, so almost our first stop was in Friendship Cove. They are so darling, all 300-plus pounds of the sleek little mammals. There is a nursery separate from the rest of the pod, but in the half hour -- leader of the pack timed me -- that I stared enraptured at those babies, a determined if unsuccessful beluga tried to push himself through or under the net separating mamas and babies from the rest of the pod. I like to think it was Daddy to one of those little big guys.
But for all of the pack, the aquatic shows were high on everyone's agenda. To begin with, I was actually encouraged to sing the Marineland jingle. I used to entertain my driver on long road trips by warbling it, an eccentricity that was quickly nipped in the bud by said driver.
Marineland shows are designed to entertain everyone from toddlers to aging cynics, and the whales, dolphins, sea lions and seals are gorgeous. And talented. I'll give it to the guy who was riding atop the whale's nose for dexterity, but the whale did the actual work.
All in all, it was a grand day. They even had a beer garden, bless their hearts, where a band featuring an accordion, that much maligned instrument, played the good old songs. Next time, and I'm scouting for a child so there will be a next time, I'm bringing a picnic lunch. There are so many lovely places to share a feast. (OK, maybe a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, but I'm warning you, the Marineland pizza is not up to the park's impeccable standards. I've eaten tastier cardboard.)
So, let me see a bit of red on behalf of Marineland. Clearly, they take care of their animals. And frankly, the park provides more fun at one place at a reasonable price than the whole of Clifton Hill. Which I recently visited with young relative, paying hard cash to see Hollywood icons rendered so poorly in wax that there are signs advising whom one is supposed to be viewing. I also paid $7 Canadian to wander a maze unprotected by the sun for what seemed like hours. I never got one stamp that said I'd found some bloody tower (which resembled a work time-clock). My maze-mates even had to find the exit for me. I would make a rotten lab rat.
But to get back to Marineland, I have been to aquariums so badly maintained the residents' distress is palpable to visitors. Hell, I've been to the Florida Keys, where an outdoor aquarium allowed me to swim with obviously ailing dolphins. (The friend with whom I shared this disheartening experience was a Florida native and reported the aquarium to authorities, who closed the operation.)
Marineland takes care of its own. Go after a dog kennel, breeding dogs in disgusting conditions, animal-rights activists, not an entertainment complex that loves God's creatures as much as you do.
| Niagara Falls Reporter | www.niagarafallsreporter.com | August 20 2002 |