In the vast expanse of the ocean, there exists a whale with a mysterious presence.
This whale is known as “52,” not so much a name as a representation of the frequency of its vocalizations in hertz, a measured value. It is said that this whale has been singing for many years. Unfortunately, other whales, quite literally, do not resonate with his frequency. Perhaps they hear his voice, but his song is so distinct from theirs that they cannot comprehend it, never responding.
Nevertheless, 52 persists in calling out. He continues to sing.
Into the abyss of oblivion, a lone voice echoes across the sea.
This melancholic, solitary existence, akin to the Grammy-winning Rihanna of the sea, has earned 52 the moniker of the “Loneliest Whale in the World.” Josh Zeman, a 40-year-old filmmaker who articulated 52’s plight, is determined to find him.
“Something like ‘Moby-Dick’ vibes?”
Yes, that’s something we’re considering.
“It’s a theme deeply rooted in our society.”
Interrupting Zeman’s tale of jogging along the beach on a Tuesday morning, we delved into a conversation about his new Kickstarter campaign to explore the Pacific, find 52, and tag him for identification.
With the assistance of “Entourage” star Adrian Grenier and a team of scientists, Zeman aims to raise $300,000 for a 20-day expedition. If found (since only male whales sing, it would be him), they plan to attach a sound-detection device, enabling scientists to study 52’s song.
Zeman also intends to create a documentary about this project.
In his Kickstarter pitch video, Zeman says, “No one has ever seen this whale, but we heard his voice, and we know he’s out there.”
As of Wednesday morning, he has gathered $46,000 from 266 supporters.
This whale has garnered media attention before. In 2004, Andrew C. Revkin wrote in The New York Times, “Imagine the world’s largest ocean-going creature, walking the seas alone year after year, calling out as regular as a metronome and getting no response. Tracked since 1992 in the North Pacific by a classified array of underwater listening devices used by the Navy to monitor enemy submarines, a solitary whale of unknown species appears to be 52.”
This year, Slate published an excerpt from a lengthy piece titled “Legend of the World’s Loneliest Whale.” Leslie Jamison wrote, “If anyone were to actually find 52, it would probably be Josh Zeman…”
When I first read about Zeman’s project, I wondered: What if the whale doesn’t want to be found? However, after hearing Zeman’s story, I’m not sure if that’s the right perspective.
“Hey, I’m here!” isn’t the sole purpose. And there might be a hug when he least expects it, Zeman told me. “It’s more significant for us.”
Meaning to us.
At first glance, it might seem selfish.
But it makes sense.
According to Zeman, those who learn about this project become so engrossed that they “over-connect” with it.
There seem to be various stories behind 52’s peculiar habits.
“For some, he’s a profoundly lonely figure,” says Zeman. “Some celebrate his solitude. He provides an inspirational message by continuing to call out, even in an era where people, despite unprecedented connectivity and constant communication, aren’t listening to his voice or paying it any attention.”
Regardless, Zeman is aware that this might sound anthropomorphic, something some scientists might dislike. But that’s not the case. It’s known through research that whales are social beings. Some of their songs cover distances of up to 3,000 miles, essential for communication.
“The fear of being alone, of calling out and not being heard, is one of the greatest fears as humans,” he said. “We are inherently social beings. Whales are the same. They have spindle cells that allow them to love, hate, belong to specific (social) circles. Imagine, in ways we can’t comprehend, there’s a being out there capable of feeling love, acceptance (or pain)?”
Hmm. That’s sadder than Bon Iver playing at a funeral.
Yet, people undoubtedly empathize with it.
“A singer in New Mexico, dissatisfied with their technical profession, wrote an entire album dedicated to 52. Another singer in Michigan wrote a children’s song about the whale’s plight. An artist in upstate New York created a sculpture from old plastic bottles and named it 52 Hertz,” writes Jamison.
Los Angeles music producer recorded 52’s song after buying a cassette tape at a garage sale. This song soon became a kind of sentimental seismograph suggesting multiple stories of alienation, determination, autonomy, desire, and the tenacity faced when confronted with communication failures.
52, the whale, has a Twitter account: 52_Hz_Whale.
Zeman has his own story as well. He told me this:
“When I heard about the story of the whale, the hybrid of blue and fin whales, from an artist friend, I was going through a breakup.”
“Whales are fantastic healers,” he said.
With 52’s story as a starting point, perhaps we should look into ourselves and something within nature. In a modern landscape dominated by cubicles and suburban homes, these connections may not be readily visible. If we could easily witness such connections, meaning we have enough knowledge and experience of the natural world, we humans might become better stewards of the environment.
So, I strongly urge Zeman to make that movie.
That way, we can get to know the sea a little better.
And in the process, we might come to know ourselves.
