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Military-trained dolphins

The Swarm

Military-trained dolphins are both subjects of scientific inquiry and working members of the naval fleet aboard the USS Independence. Their sonar, mobility, and trained signals let them detect and classify marine life beyond the reach of shipboard systems, and one ultimately helps Leon Anawak escape a lethal encounter at sea. Yet their place in the story is not simply that of useful equipment: mirror-test research presents them as self-aware animals, while the history of military programs shows how institutions have tried to turn their capacities into instruments of human command.

Intelligence and Self-Recognition

The novel introduces dolphins as a challenge to human assumptions about animal minds. In research described through the mirror test, dolphins were placed in a pool lined with reflective glass and given mirrors. Researchers marked them with black ink, then observed them searching for a reflection in which the mark would be visible. The design distinguished a genuine response to the mark from a reaction to the sensation of being touched: trials sometimes used a water-filled marker that left no lasting spot. The dolphins looked longer at their reflections when the mark could be seen, supporting the interpretation that they used the mirror to inspect themselves.

The trials were not based on training. Researchers also changed the mark’s location to reduce the possibility that the dolphins’ behavior reflected habit or learned routine. Later, belugas were tested with the same general method. Across six trials, including two with the placebo marker, a beluga approached the mirror to look for a mark and swam away when none was present. The researcher presenting the results took this as evidence of a degree of self-awareness comparable to that attributed to chimpanzees. The implication is not that animal and human minds are identical, but that the boundary between them cannot be assumed in advance.

The account also preserves disagreement about what mirror recognition establishes. Daniel Povinelli accepted that a chimpanzee recognizing itself might have some sense of its own identity, but rejected the stronger inference that this proved an understanding of its own mental state or of other minds. His skepticism leaves the interpretation open: the dolphin’s behavior is evidence of self-recognition, but the extent of the psychological understanding behind it remains contested. That distinction gives the tests their importance in the novel’s wider inquiry into animal consciousness without treating one experiment as a complete answer.

Military Uses and Control

Dolphins’ intelligence and sensory abilities have also made them valuable to armed forces. During the Cold War, the United States and the Soviet Union developed sea-mammal programs. Soviet-trained dolphins, sea lions, and belugas were used to find mines and retrieve lost torpedoes; after the Soviet Union collapsed, the animals were transferred to an oceanarium in Sebastopol. Some later entered therapy centers, while others were sold to Iran, after which their fate became unclear. The passage from military service to entertainment, therapy, or disappearance shows how the animals’ lives could be redirected by institutional decisions beyond their control.

The case for using them in naval work rests on practical advantages. Dolphins can locate mines much faster than human divers, and sea lions at naval bases in Charleston and San Diego recorded a high success rate in detecting torpedoes. Dolphins navigate in darkness through echolocation, producing clicks and interpreting the returning echoes; sea lions retain useful vision in weak light. Marine mammals can dive repeatedly to substantial depths, avoiding some of the limits faced by human underwater teams. The narrative also notes that over thirty years the U.S. Navy lost seven dolphins, a figure presented alongside the animals’ operational value rather than as proof that their work was without risk.

The history also has a darker side. Leon Anawak learns that military programs have included specialized operations against human divers, and that military research went beyond locating objects or observing the sea. Jack Greywolf recalls seeing dolphins in San Diego in 1989 during experiments involving electrodes and a fitted harness. Signals could direct their movements and alter their responses, including inducing aggression or calm. Greywolf describes the work as disturbing because the animals’ participation was not voluntary. The account makes the ethical problem concrete: an animal’s sophisticated nervous system can be treated as a route to control, converting capacities that developed for life in water into a military interface.

The Fleet Aboard the USS Independence

A marine mammal fleet is housed aboard the USS Independence in a large internal basin and tank. Its dolphins carry cameras and serve mainly in surveillance. Their sonar can detect living creatures before the ship’s own systems do, while trained whistles let them distinguish categories of marine life, including different kinds of whales. They can also identify shoals; anything outside their learned signals is reported as unknown. The system therefore combines the dolphins’ perception with human training, cameras, and shipboard monitoring. It extends the crew’s awareness without making the sea fully legible.

That dependence on animal observation becomes especially clear when danger is near. After the fleet reports that attacking whales have retreated, Luther Roscovitz considers it possible to risk further dives. Dolphins fitted with cameras approach a submersible, and their recordings are expected to contribute to surveillance. The arrangement makes the animals active participants in a network of detection: they move through the water, collect images, and relay information on which human decisions depend.

The network has limits. After an attack, the camera feeds show little beyond the ship’s hull, fish, and dolphins filming one another. Images of a threatening blue glow and shadowy whales do not give the crew a clear account of what is happening; the frightened dolphins retreat beneath the keel and film the steel above them. Jack Greywolf argues that the remaining fleet should continue serving as an early-warning system and patrolling the ship. Leon Anawak doubts that the dolphins can help, but does not voice that doubt to his friend. The contrast is not between useful and useless animals so much as between a surveillance system’s promise and what it can actually see under pressure.

Rescue, Companionship, and Significance

The dolphins’ role is not confined to sensing and recording. During a dangerous encounter in the water, Leon Anawak is caught amid a mass of tentacles as a whale approaches. One dolphin darts toward him; Anawak holds its dorsal fin, and it carries him out of the mass and toward the surface. The pursuing whale’s jaws close behind them and miss. The rescue turns the fleet’s familiar operational value into an immediate act of assistance, but the dolphin’s action is not presented as a machine responding to a command. Its speed and movement make escape possible when the human is otherwise trapped.

After the attack, Anawak continues to visit the well deck and approaches the dolphins, who greet him with whistles and chatter and swim over for affection. His visits also bring him near Greywolf, who has withdrawn from meetings and now summarizes the camera footage in handwritten notes. The dolphins offer a point of contact between the two men even while Greywolf remains difficult to reach. Their presence links the technical work of the fleet to an everyday relationship of attention and care.

Across the novel, dolphins therefore occupy an unstable position between animal subject and military instrument. The mirror tests ask whether they recognize themselves; naval programs seek to exploit their senses and, in some cases, override their behavior; the fleet depends on their reports but cannot make them see everything; and one dolphin’s intervention becomes decisive in Anawak’s survival. These episodes resist a simple division between human intelligence and animal capability. The dolphins are valuable precisely because they perceive and move through the sea in ways humans cannot, yet that difference does not make them mere extensions of human intention.