Elizabeth Kolbert's Enthralling "Talk to Me"

Illustration by Sophy Hollington, from Elizabeth Kolbert's "Talk to Me"

In my note on the September 11, 2023 New Yorker, I neglected to comment on Elizabeth Kolbert’s excellent “Talk to Me.” I want to rectify that right now. To me, it’s one of the year’s best fact pieces. It’s about a team of scientists attempting to use artificial intelligence to speak with sperm whales. Kolbert visits the team's base on Dominica, a volcanic island in the Lesser Antilles: “In July, I went down to Dominica to watch the CETI team go sperm-whale bugging.” That’s the kind of sentence that hooks me every time. She sails on a catamaran, observing members of the team use an experimental drone to attach a recording device to a sperm whale (“The drone took off and zipped toward the whale. It hovered for a few seconds, then dropped vertiginously. For the suction cups to adhere, the drone had to strike the whale at just the right angle, with just the right amount of force”). Most memorably, she witnesses the birth of a baby sperm whale:

Suddenly, someone yelled out, “Red!” A burst of scarlet spread through the water, like a great banner unfurling. No one knew what was going on. Had the pilot whales stealthily attacked? Was one of the whales in the group injured? The crowding increased until the whales were practically on top of one another.

Then a new head appeared among them. “Holy fucking shit!” Gruber exclaimed.

“Oh, my God!” Gero cried. He ran to the front of the boat, clutching his hair in amazement. “Oh, my God! Oh, my God!” The head belonged to a newborn calf, which was about twelve feet long and weighed maybe a ton. In all his years of studying sperm whales, Gero had never watched one being born. He wasn’t sure anyone ever had.

As one, the whales made a turn toward the catamaran. They were so close I got a view of their huge, eerily faceless heads and pink lower jaws. They seemed oblivious of the boat, which was now in their way. One knocked into the hull, and the foredeck shuddered.

Then she watches as a school of pilot whales arrive:

To everyone’s relief, the baby began to swim on its own. Then the pilot whales showed up—dozens of them.

“I don’t like the way they’re moving,” Gruber said.

“They’re going to attack for sure,” Gero said. The pilot whales’ distinctive, wave-shaped fins slipped in and out of the water.

What followed was something out of a marine-mammal “Lord of the Rings.” Several of the pilot whales stole in among the sperm whales. All that could be seen from the boat was a great deal of thrashing around. Out of nowhere, more than forty Fraser’s dolphins arrived on the scene. Had they come to participate in the melee or just to rubberneck? It was impossible to tell. They were smaller and thinner than the pilot whales (which, their name notwithstanding, are also technically dolphins).

Kolbert’s description of the skirmish is masterful. The whole piece is masterful – a thrilling blend of travel, adventure, and science. I devoured it.