5. THE GLOBAL INDUSTRY
5.6 Switzerland
Although there are only two permanent dolphinaria in Switzerland today, there is more to the Swiss connection in the dolphin trade than meets the eye. Immune to more stringent EEC regulations on the trade in endangered species, Switzerland and its little neighbour Liechtenstein – well-known for their numbered bank accounts and bogus postbox companies – are also havens for two of the world's most infamous dolphin dealing enterprises, Conny Gasser's Flipper Show based in the Canton of Thurgau, and Bruno Lienhardt's International Dolphin Show of Vaduz.
Although the country prides itself in having one of the most progressive animal welfare laws in Europe, the activities of Bruno Lienhardt and Conny Gasser are tolerated and even pampered by the Swiss authorities. Dr Peter Dollinger, head of the Federal Veterinary Office's International Traffic and Animal Welfare Division, is, together with circus-fan Dr. Thomas Althaus, responsible for monitoring the Swiss dolphin trade's compliance with government regulations. Generally however, the practical implementation of animal welfare ordinances rests with the cantonal authorities, and Dollinger admits that "these controls may not be too tight." Unless they receive their dolphins from the USA, owners "are not obliged to inform the authorities of every death but must keep records which should in theory be checked every year." In practice, however, the law evidently leaves much to be desired: a relative of Conny Gasser reports that "an inspector from the Cantonal Veterinary Office does come over very occasionally, but only for a drink."
"Connyland as it used to be was a very bad establishment because of the standard of its facilities," Dollinger concedes. "There was also frequent transportation of dolphins which is now practically prohibited in Switzerland, although we can't prevent them from being taken abroad. However, up until 1st July 1975 when CITES became effective, we had no legal basis whatsoever to control such trade. The only means of controlling the international trade in live animals was animal health legislation and this doesn't apply to dolphins. It applies to just a few taxa which might transmit diseases either to man or to domestic livestock."
Despite the advent of CITES, Dollinger acknowledges that "it is difficult to keep track" of Switzerland's import-export cycle of dolphins, "but I can't believe there is any illegal trafficking in dolphins. Transportation is so complicated that to smuggle a dolphin over strictly-controlled borders is more or less impossible. Also, because of the great deal of work required to train dolphins, owners have a vested interest in retaining their animals and keeping them as healthy as possible." Although Conny Gasser was involved in regular import-export activities, "they were always the same animals," Dr Dollinger asserts, a view which clashes with the testimony of two of Gasser's former trainers, Ingrid Killer and Debbie Steele. Asked if official import documents support his contention, Dollinger quickly resorted to the standard refuge of the bureaucrat. "Because of Swiss legislation, you have no right whatsoever to obtain this information," he announced curtly. "What I have given you verbally is already too much in principle. Furthermore, the regulations do not require that dolphins' individual names be stated on official documents." When informed that evidence seemed to suggest that dolphin names are being transferred from dead ones to newly acquired ones, Dr Dollinger stated: "This happens all the time. These dolphins often have two names, one that's official and one that's for the public." The same blue-eyed explanation is echoed by Dr Margaret Klinowska who declared that this juggling of dolphin identities was simply due to the fact "that it is inconvenient and expensive to reprint guidebooks and other material every time animals change." Yet Conny Gasser, for example, insists that his dolphin 'Flipper' has been with him for 15 years, despite the fact that "Flipper's" life actually spans at least three separate individuals. If Klinowska interprets this common practice of name-juggling so innocuously, then what unseen effect did this have on her mortality statistics upon which her conclusions were largely based?
As in most other countries, in practice, Swiss regulations seem to serve the interests of the dolphin-owners rather than the dolphins themselves. Furthermore, attempts to trace the fate of individual dolphins belonging to Conny Gasser and Bruno Lienhardt were hampered by the refusal of the Cantonal Veterinary Hospital in Zürich to release autopsy reports without permission of the owners since dolphins are regarded as "private property" and in fact, almost as inanimate merchandise.
Knie's Kinderzoo
"A paradise for young and old" is how Circus Knie describes its children's zoo at Rapperswil, where the five times daily dolphin show is billed as the central attraction for 350,000 visitors every year. It was the Knie brothers who established, in 1965, mainland Europe's first commercial dolphin show - the prototype of today's dolphinarium. "Captain Jim" Tiebor, the industry's European pioneer, supplied a show for two seasons with a pair of Jerry Mitchell-caught dolphins called Skipper and Sindbad. Says Knie's public relations manager Chris Krenger: "We never had dolphins with the circus, but in '66 or '67, we used to have a travelling dolphin show. But the dolphins weren't ours, they were just presented in one of Knie's tents. In the end the Knie brothers decided against further travelling shows because transporting dolphins was too complicated and the pools were too small." He might also have added, "and the dolphins kept on dying."
So enthusiastic was the public response to this then-unique form of entertainment that the Gebrüder Knie readily gave orders for a permanent dolphinarium to be built to replace Tiebor's small travelling pool. This was eventually opened to the public in 1970 with no less than seven dolphins on hand to entertain the crowds, but Tiebor's entrepreneurial spirit soon began to ail in provincial Rapperswil, especially since the dolphin entertainment industry was on the verge of becoming a worldwide gold rush. Knie therefore struck a deal with Tiebor's former partner, Walter Moser, who had established the company Sea Artist Enterprises to market his own travelling Flipper show. With Tiebor supplying dolphins from the USA, Moser remained under contract to Knie for several years until a spate of dolphin deaths caused by water pollution and careless handling threatened Knie's much-coveted image. With the advent of the Marine Mammal Act in 1972, dealer-showmen like Moser and Tiebor, having already learned the hard way that demand can outstrip supply even in a free market, began to experience greater constrictions in the dolphin pipeline, forcing them, in the jargon of high finance, to "rationalise" their activities. It was thus that Moser, having seen untold numbers of dolphins die in primitive travelling shows, moved to Spain in 1978. Says Rudolph Jäckle who worked for Sea Artist Enterprises: "Moser moved to Spain to build his own dolphinarium on the Costa Blanca. He moved out because he had bad luck with the dolphins, and with the trainers too." It was then that the Knie dynasty, seizing a lucrative opportunity, began organising its own shows with Jäckle as head trainer.
Today, Circus Knie normally acquires its dolphins through the International Animal Exchange, Ricky Borguss or Harvey L. Hamilton. Because it prefers to obtain its dolphins from the United States, it is also subject to the strict provisions of the Marine Mammal Act, which, in effect, stipulates that US dolphins be provided on permanent loan rather than outright sale. The Act prohibits trading, transport and even exchange of dolphins without US permission, and the restrictive nature of the law might explain why the more disreputable dolphinariums still prefer to acquire their animals from dealers in Third World nations - "no questions asked". According to Jäckle, dolphins provided under US law "are strictly recorded from the day the dolphin is taken out of the sea, until the day it dies." But despite its well-intentioned provisions, it would be tantamount to sophistry to suggest that the US Marine Mammal Act can in any way guarantee dolphin well-being or longevity in captivity, especially when it is used as a convenient alibi by dolphin establishments eager to win or maintain respectability. Knie is a case in point, particularly since it enjoys international respect. At home, it commands the same kind of reverence afforded to William Tell, or Switzerland's ubiquitous red and white flag, yet its cramped dolphin facility at the Children's Zoo at Rapperswil on the Lake of Zürich has been plagued with mortalities and behavioural problems.
It is the Federal Veterinary Office in Berne which is ultimately responsible for the dolphins at Knie, but theoretically a US inspector could be sent to Switzerland if allegations of maltreatment were substantiated. Depending on the inspector's findings, the 'loan agreement' could even be revoked. Predictably, such a visit has never taken place, despite growing misgivings over Knie's dolphin keeping standards. In the case of a national institution such as Knie, with friends in high places, there are several prerogatives to be enjoyed, not least of all the fact that the Federal Veterinary Office is staffed by "realists" who also happen to be ardent fans of the circus or believe that keeping animals in captivity is the inalienable right of Man the "Alpha species". Under such circumstances it is perhaps understandable that any genuine concern over Knie's dolphin keeping is inevitably reduced to a whimper. Dr Peter Dollinger for instance, with diplomatic understatement, looks upon Knie "quite favourably in principle." But although he freely admits his dissatisfaction with the size of the Kinderzoo's dolphin pool, the Knie family maintains that they have never heard of any such complaint by the authorities. Knie's dolphin pool measures just 700m3, the bare minimum for the four dolphins that - notwithstanding deaths, premature replacements and temporary storage - it likes to maintain there on a permanent basis. As we shall see later, for half a year in 1988, five dolphins were confined to that minuscule concrete prison, with the full knowledge and encouragement of the Federal authorities. While admitting that the pool is suitable "for two animals" Rudolph Jäckle emphasises that "the size of the pool isn't really important to the animals if they fit nicely together. Alright, you must have your minimum standards but even if you give them a hundred metre pool they're still captive." The problem is, Knie's dolphins have rarely fitted nicely together unless one imagines sardines in a can, and this is something that both the Swiss and American authorities have known for years.
Of course, like all circuses and dolphinaria, Knie publicly preens itself on the standards of its animal husbandry, the skills and compassion of its trainers and keepers. Carefully nurtured for public consumption, once again the projected image does not always stand up to scrutiny, as evidenced by the beatings of the baby elephant Malayka in Knie's circus ring. Evidently dolphin husbandry at Knie has also left much to be desired. South African born Rudolph Jäckle joined Knie as head dolphin trainer in 1978. Prior to that, he was an up-and-coming prodigy of the nascent dolphin business in South Africa, a protege it seems, of Europe's terrible twins Tiebor and Moser. Reports speak of Jäckle's dusky dolphins dying while being carted around by truck to agricultural shows, from Johannesburg to Rhodesia. Jäckle was also heavily-involved in dolphin catching until his endeavours caused a public outcry and provoked a temporary government ban. The Cape Times of March 8, 1976, takes up the story: "Horrified onlookers at Hout Bay beach yesterday watched trek fishermen as they dragged three dolphins, spurting blood from numerous injuries, from their nets to a commercial dolphin-training organisation."
Wrapped in a "blood-stained sheet," the newspaper continued, the dolphins were loaded into a van, surrounded by an angry crowd. "A blood-spattered Sea Fisheries inspector who helped with the loading of the animals told the Cape Times that the catch had 'complied with all departmental requirements.'" He confirmed that the men, led by Jäckle and his American assistant Ricky Borguss, had a permit to catch three dolphins, provided that they were over a metre in length and were not pregnant females. The newspaper reported that five of the dusky dolphins had been trapped in the fishermen's nets after being herded from a school which had been feeding in the Bay. Two were released after the dolphins began to panic. As the crowd surrounding them turned ugly, the men became increasingly desperate to finish the job, said the Cape Times: "'Hurry up,' a helper urged his mates in Africaans. 'The people are getting angry.' One man, incensed by the struggles of the bleeding animals, held up his hand and appealed: 'Are you all going to stand here and let these people get away with it?'"
"The van left immediately after the animals were loaded, leaving a trail of blood. A doctor and his family, driving behind the vehicle, later told the Cape Times that the blood trail lasted 'all the way to Constantia Nek and then only stopped because the van was going downhill.'" The newspaper went on to say that the operation was being organised by the only person in the Peninsula with a permit to catch dolphins, the professional trainer Mr Rudolph Jäckle. He was to supply the animals to a Swiss dolphinarium - presumably Knie's Kinderzoo in Rapperswil. At this time, Jäckle was already a veteran dolphin-catcher, having supplied, during a period of eight years, over thirty of the animals to European dolphinaria via the Tiebor-Moser twins.
About an hour after capture, while they were still in the back of the van, two of the dolphins died of shock. Jäckle then made plans to catch replacements to join the last surviving dusky dolphin - cynically called 'Solitaire' - which had been put in temporary storage in a 7-meter diameter outdoor tank at his base in the Strand. But he evidently didn't count on the public outrage which greeted news of his activities at Hout Bay, which included petitions to the government to prohibit all dolphin catches in the area, and angry letters and phone calls to local newspapers and politicians. Within two days, a blanket ban on the catching, transporting and keeping of dolphins had been ordered by the national government pending an inquiry into the deaths of the Hout Bay dolphins. All outstanding permits were promptly cancelled, leaving the dolphin catcher and his Swiss client somewhat in the lurch. None too popular with the locals and hounded by the press, Jäckle confessed to the Cape Times that the capture had been "badly handled" but said that he had been forced to rush because of the ugly mood of the onlookers. One man, declared Jäckle, had even threatened to throw him into the net and hold him underwater - and all this while he had been trying to calm the three dolphins which had just been brought ashore. "Usually I talk to the dolphins," Jäckle was quoted as saying, "take them into shallow water, run my hands over them and soothe them so that they stop struggling. . . If they don't struggle I can take them away but if they are panicking too much I make a practice of letting them go. I have handled more than 35 dolphins without a death." Mrs Susan Jäckle seemed more defiant, and was not above trashing her compatriots in the dolphin business to boost the Jäckle reputation: "Compare our record with that of the Port Elisabeth oceanarium which has lost up to 40 dolphins since they began operating," she declared. Her husband however, evidently reeling from the government's temporary ban on dolphin-catching, seemed more apologetic. "It was a mistake," he confessed, "I should have returned them to the sea."
In 1984, Knie imported two new dolphins, George and Angel, to replace two which had perished. One, a female aged nine years named Star died from a chronic lung infection, and a male called Stormy aged 23 years, succumbed to a heart attack. Jäckle became typically vague and reticent when discussing the deaths of the dolphins in his care. When pressed however, he admitted that a newborn dolphin had also died, which inadvertently shed light on the demise of Stormy. "One of the females gave birth in March 1984 I think," Jäckle recounted. "I don't know when it was born, it must have been in the middle of the night, and there was something wrong with it - the mother didn't want it, and wouldn't let it nurse." Although this was the third death of a newborn dolphin at Knie, Jäckle disputes Prof. Pilleri's assertion that dolphins refuse to give birth and rear their young successfully in captivity. He also fervently denies the allegations of one of my sources, who reported that the male became so agitated that "Jäckle panicked and gave the dolphin horse sedatives" which in turn induced a coronary thrombosis. However, Knie's head trainer did admit that the female dolphin was "being bothered all the time" by the male, and that they had to be separated. "But I don't want to say that the male got into such a state that he had a heart attack because of that - I don't know!"
When asked about the intelligence of dolphins, Jäckle's response also shed light on the allegation that dolphins are purposely underfed so that during show-time a fish becomes a prize for every successfully completed trick. "If you feed him what he needs then he's so naughty and so full of energy that he's like a guy who gets his money anyway, so why should he work?"
Asked to comment on the findings of Prof. Pilleri's scientific research, Jäckle said: "I read his report. I argued with the man but he's made up his mind and that's his business. He has some points where I must admit that he's right. But he's always negative. The thing is, his words are taken more seriously because he's a professor and I'm only a bloody dolphin trainer. And even though we trainers have the most experience with dolphins, we're rarely if ever consulted. But what annoys me about Pilleri is that he doesn't even want to talk with us. He says that dolphins in captivity are losing their communication. I've told him, come to Rapperswil and stick your bloody head in the water - and you'll hear how they communicate. But no, he's tried it all in Duisburg, he says. I say, we are not in Duisburg, Duisburg has a very bad reputation and I don't want to be associated with it. If Pilleri was more constructive in his criticisms - not saying that dolphins in captivity are like people in concentration camps - then we could really do something to improve the facilities. Perhaps he should shift his attention to what's happening to dolphins in the sea. That is terrifying. I can tell you, it's unbelievable what they do to the dolphins, especially in South Africa. It's very fashionable to be against zoos and dolphinariums now - but if the slaughter goes on in the wild like it is, then eventually these are the only places where you'll ever be able to see a dolphin." But ironically, Jäckle and Pilleri do seem to agree on one point, and that is that the best form of dolphinarium - and the rarest - is the one which has direct access to the sea, such as those in Panama, Hawaii and Florida where the dolphins are kept in natural fenced-off lagoons. "The dolphins are much happier there," admits Jäckle. "I don't know if you can fool them making the pool look like the sea - there's always a wall." To emphasise his point, Jäckle recalled that while he was in Florida preparing to collect George and Angel, "one morning I went down there and those two buggers were behind the fence. They used to jump into the channel and then out to sea, but they always came back to eat." They probably didn't realise they'd end up at Knie's glorified bathtub at Rapperswil.
The same could probably be said for the dolphins Amit and Reut which were imported from Israel's Tel-Aviv dolphinarium in 1986, again under Marine Mammal Act permits. Within two days Amit had died of cardiac failure. But by this time, the goings-on at Knie were beginning to arouse the suspicion of the National Marine Fisheries Service (NMFS), the government body which administers the Marine Mammal Act. This became apparent after the Knie brothers applied for a permit to capture and maintain two more dolphins from the Florida west coast in October 1986. According to Ann D. Terbush, Chief of the Permit Division of NMFS's Office of Protected Resources, "in reviewing the application. . . the Marine Mammal Commission noted that a number of dolphin deaths which occurred at the applicant's facility between May 1984 and April 1986 appear, in large part, to have been related to social behavioural problems." Knie was invited to "consult with experts" in an effort to rectify the problem, and then submit a report on the results for review. By September 1988 however, the application had been returned because of what was termed "inadequate response to the Marine Mammal Commission's concern regarding possible past behavioural problems among Knie's animals." This included rumours that one dolphin became so aggressive in captivity that even its trainer couldn't go safely into the water with it any more. In an eventual compromise hammered out with the NMFS, Knie agreed that Whipsnade's Victor Manton should initiate a study to determine the cause of the Rapperswil dolphins' behavioural problems. Wryly, Doug Cartlidge notes that "this was the man who wanted to solve Samson's suicidal behaviour as he repeatedly charged the underwater viewing windows, by using a net to push him away!" As expected, Victor Manton obligingly provided Rapperswil with a clean bill of health. Says Cartlidge: "The Marine Mammal Protection Act regulations were very easy to 'get around' and still are. It's the same with the Zoo Licensing Act in the U.K. So called "independent inspectors" are often those with vested interests in the industry."
By January 1989, Rudolph Jäckle had cut his losses and set sail for America to seek his fortune, joining-up with the dolphin-dealing team at Dolphins Plus Inc. in Florida, run by his old pal Ricky Borguss.
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