Kshamenk, an orca who lived in captivity in Argentina for over three decades, confined to a tank just 12 meters in diameter, died yesterday. Rescued from a stranding in 1992, Kshamenk was never able to return to the open sea, living her entire adult life in conditions that prevented her from performing the natural behaviors of orcas.
The cause of death was cardiac arrest, likely related to her advanced age and the conditions of captivity. Kshamenk’s case reignites the global debate on the welfare of cetaceans in marine parks and the need for more nature-friendly alternatives.
We have also an update about the orcas in France. After months of uncertainty and debate, the French government has made a final decision on the future of the two orcas remaining at Marineland Antibes, Wikie and her son Keijo. In an official statement released on December 13, 2025, the French Ministry of Ecological Transition determined that the orcas will be transferred to the Whale Sanctuary Project, a marine sanctuary for cetaceans located in Nova Scotia, Canada. This decision comes after several months of technical analysis, inspections, and scientific consultations and marks a significant turning point in the management of the large former Marineland cetaceans. According to the government, relocation to the sanctuary is the only ethical solution that complies with French laws protecting animal welfare, ruling out options that involve using the animals in entertainment facilities.
The transfer is scheduled for the summer of 2026, once the organizational and health phases necessary to safely move these large cetaceans have been completed.
The story of Wikie and her son Keijo:
In January 2025, Marineland marine park in Antibes—once one of Europe’s largest and most famous aquatic and wildlife parks—closed permanently. The decision was made following a drastic decline in visits over the years and the passage of a law (in 2021) banning cetacean shows. Upon closure, the park’s management had prioritized the relocation of all the animals housed there. However, as it later emerged, the fate of two orcas, a mother and her calf, was tragic. The two orcas remained trapped in the closed park’s tanks. According to media sources and activist NGOs, the conditions in which they live today have seriously deteriorated: dirty tanks, cloudy water, algae buildup, and environments that no longer meet decent standards. A video released in 2025 by an activist shows the two orcas swimming slowly, almost listlessly: the mother floats just below the surface, the calf swims wearily.
The tragedy becomes even more excruciating when the orcas, at the sight of a person, begin to “perform,” as if trying to please the audience: a gesture likely rooted in years of training for shows. A sign of discomfort and loneliness, it testifies to the depth of their suffering.
The painful images of these orcas—alone, confined, disoriented, floating in tanks in terrible conditions—demand a clear stance: closing the parks isn’t enough. We must care for those who have been exploited for decades, with dignity, compassion, and practicality.
In parallel, there are 12 dolphins wich will remain temporarily in the tanks deemed suitable for the moment, awaiting the opening of a new centre managed by the Zoo Parc de Beauval. This project is still in the development phase and could take at least two years to make the necessary facilities operational.
Similar story is about the management of Marineland, in the Canadian province of Ontario: The Canadian government blocked the sale of beluga whales to a water park in China, refusing an export permit because the 2019 law prohibits the use of cetaceans for entertainment and aims to eliminate this exploitation.
Marineland responded by saying it could no longer keep the animals without urgent assistance, even threatening possible mass euthanasia if funding or alternative solutions do not arrive.
While closing the parks is the “easy” part, the real challenge begins later. Many facilities—like Marineland in Antibes or Marineland in Ontario—have found themselves with dozens of cetaceans still in tanks, without a suitable home.
The idea of ”releasing them into the sea” is almost always impossible: animals born in captivity don’t know how to hunt, don’t recognize predators, don’t have a natural social group, and often have medical conditions that prevent them from living independently. Some wouldn’t even survive a few days.
The most widely shared answer among experts is the creation of marine sanctuaries: large protected bays where animals can live in a natural environment, yet remain cared for by humans.
However:
existing sanctuaries are very few, often still under construction; they have limited space; transfers require complex permits, expert veterinarians, and enormous costs; many countries lack adequate facilities to accommodate animals arriving from abroad.
For this reason, many sudden closures result in a dramatic stalemate: deserted parks that continue to keep animals in degraded tanks while they desperately search for a destination.
Managing adult cetaceans is extremely expensive: fresh fish daily, constantly filtered water, specialized staff, complex medical care, and maintenance.
When a park closes and no longer generates revenue, these costs become unmanageable. In some extreme cases, facilities threaten euthanasia due to lack of funding, sparking a cruel debate between what is ethically acceptable and what is realistic achievable.
Closing the parks is an act of justice towards future animals, but the fate of current ones cannot be ignored. These lives depend entirely on humans—the same humans who captured them or breed them in captivity.
