A beached whale in Queens and what to watch when you're under quarantine.
Don't forget: Stacy's mom has got it going on.
Life goes on, it seems, even if the governor declares a lockdown. On Tuesday, a 28-foot humpback whale washed-up on the beach at Jacob Riis Park, the massive public beach on the Atlantic Ocean at the end of the Rockaways in Queens. This isn’t actually a terribly unusual occurrence—when whales pass, their bodies return to the sea or sometimes float up on shore. It’s just part of the circle of life. If a dead whale is beached, a team of scientists typically examines it, documents its death, and then buries it nearby.
Yet the appearance of Moby Dick in Queens earlier this week presented a unique problem. Typically a team from the Atlantic Marine Conservation Society (AMSEAS) would respond to the scene and dispose of the body, but they’re all working from home right now due to the coronavirus lockdown. When the whale was discovered, there was no mechanism in place to take care of it. And since Jacob Riis Park is one of the few places people can still go—it’s a great place for a walk on even the gloomiest days—there were soon worries that gawkers would begin to congregate.
Guapo the Dog is just one of the many New Yorkers who love Jacob Riis Park.
But the scientists at AMSEAS were not to be deterred and together with the National Park Service, New York State Department of Environmental Conservation and New York City Department of Sanitation, they got the job done earlier this morning and buried the whale on the beach. Before the whale was interred, the AMSEAS scientists photographed it for research purposes and shared the info with the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration, although they told me that they refrained from doing their typical hands-on scientific examination so as to comply with social distancing requirements.
“It is always unfortunate when a whale washes up on our beaches,” said AMSEAS Chief Scientist Rob DiGiovanni. “By working together, we strive to collect as much information as possible to help understand the cause of mortality. These unprecedented times have made it challenging for everyone. We want to thank all who have helped us in addressing these issues. The safety of our team and the public is always paramount in our decision making when it comes to responding to these animals.”
Photo courtesy of the Atlantic Marine Conservation Society.
While the death of the whale is not a happy thing per se, there’s something oddly reassuring about this chain of events. Nature continues to behave as it always has. And people find a way to do what needs to be done. There’s a lot of focus right now on doctors, EMTs and other frontline workers in the coronavirus crisis, as there rightly should be. These people are putting their lives on the line for their communities. Yet it’s incredibly gratifying to see others continuing to do their part—even in quixotic tasks like whale disposal—to the absolute best of their ability while taking the appropriate safety measures. We’re all in this together, and we can’t give up on the ordinary or even the extraordinary. We all just have to do our best and figure it out, day by day.
TODAY’S RECOMMENDATION: The Castle of Cagliostro (1979)
Steele Tyler Filipek—Executive Editor at production house Starlight Runner Entertainment and professor of writing, media, and cinema—is leading a weekly lecture series on the works of Hayao Miyazaki. His first class is today, at 7 p.m. Eastern, followed by a watch party of the topic: The Castle of Cagliostro. Those who are interested in joining should email him at steele.filipek@gmail.com.
Steele is fantastic lecturer and an absolute expert on Miyazaki, and I cannot recommend this lecture series enough. Miyazaki is widely regarded as the master of Japanese animation, and his vibrant films combine stunning art with truly compelling storytelling.
Here is some additional info on tonight’s film, per Filipek:
This was Miyazaki's first feature-length film, though he'd directed or co-directed about twenty episodes of the [Lupin III] show prior to that, and while it's not nearly as well regarded as some of his later works, it's a rollicking adventure with humor, action, romance, and a surprising amount of depth. It is rated PG or equivalent in most markets, so it's fairly safe minus a few light swear words and some Looney Tunes-style action; if you'd let your child watch Home Alone, this is assuredly less serious than that (though some of the jokes, situations, and plot may be a little over their head).
Note that you don't have to have watched any of Lupin to enjoy the movie, but if you'd like to get a taste, you can watch the second series of the show on Hulu (Lupin III: Part 2, from 1977) with a subscription, or on Tubi for free. You can also watch any series on Crunchy Roll for free at the moment. Miyazaki did most of his work on Part 1, but—of interest—is that episodes 145 ("Wings of Death - Albatross") and 155 ("Farewell My Beloved Lupin," or "Thieves Love the Peace") are directed by Miyazaki under the pseudonym "Teruki Tsutomu." These episodes are only available on Crunchy Roll or Tubi. One more thing to know is that these are slightly more risqué than the movie. There's no nudity or terrible violence, but the situations, dress, and style would make it a more PG-13 level show, equivalent to the latest Jumanji in terms of tone.
The Castle of Cagliostro is available to stream on Netflix.
READING LIST:
The New York Times spent 12 hours in the field with Paterson, NJ EMTs as they responded to the flood of coronavirus calls. It’s a great view into what’s going on at the front lines and captures the camaraderie still present in the corps of first responders.
A Venezuelan warship sunk the other day after it tried to ram a cruise ship floating nearby. The cruise ship had a hull reinforced for traveling through Arctic ice and was unscathed. What a weird story.
Benjamin Reeves is an award-winning screenwriter, journalist and media consultant based in Brooklyn, New York. Follow him on Twitter @bpreeves or write to him at breeves.writer@gmail.com.