Mark Stevens has dedicated years to saving stranded whales, dolphins, and other large marine mammals across the waters of the British Isles. However, a particular incident from two decades ago still vividly resonates with him.

“We had no concept of PTSD (post-traumatic stress disorder) at the time, but eventually we understood that’s what we were dealing with,” he reflects.

On January 19, 2006, a striking photograph emerged showing a massive whale swimming in the River Thames alongside the Houses of Parliament.

Stevens recounts that those involved with British Divers Marine Life Rescue (BDMLR) had heard rumors of a whale in the river earlier that week, but the image confirmed it was a northern bottlenose, a deep-diving species typically found in the North Atlantic.

As a science teacher, he was working that day when he received an urgent call to go to central London.

“I informed my head teacher that I was off to London to save a whale, and that she could fire me on Monday… Thankfully, she didn’t,” he notes.

With more sightings reported throughout the day, anticipation was rising, and the next morning, Stevens found himself on Breakfast television as the situation garnered attention.

Later that morning, he boarded a boat near Albert Bridge where the whale had been spotted, and a rescue plan was formulated.

Thousands of onlookers filled the riverbanks and bridges, eager to catch a glimpse of the 19-foot (5.85m) whale, while their team faced the press and photographers in nearby boats.

Promising the journalists “the best photographs you’re ever going to get,” Stevens managed to persuade them to assist in maneuvering the whale onto a sandbank, allowing for a veterinary assessment.

He admits that while the team assessed the whale’s chances of survival as “50-50 at best,” they resolved to proceed with the rescue.

Because of the whale’s weight, a crane was necessary to lift it onto a barge for transport back to sea, prompting the team to place inflatable pontoons on either side of the animal for careful positioning.

However, their pace quickened dramatically when they realized they were against the tide, which would hinder the crane’s ability to fit under the bridges of London.

“The moment the whale touched the lifting barge, we set off – the anchor wasn’t even raised at that point due to the urgency, but we just about managed to escape,” Stevens recalls.

Among the veterinary team was Rob Deaville, project manager for the UK Cetacean Strandings Investigation Programme affiliated with the Zoological Society of London.

Having dealt with previous whale strandings in the Thames, he described this occasion as a “once-in-a-lifetime experience,” fueled by the swath of people flocking to the river on a sunny day.

“The most remarkable aspect was the response of Londoners; it felt almost like a festive gathering; crowds cheered along bridges and throughout the Thames as the barge made its way out,” he describes.

Simultaneously, news of the rescue was broadcast live worldwide, with helicopters hovering above capturing every moment.

“We learned later that around 20 million people were tuning in. We were relieved not to know that at the time, as it might have added to our stress,” Deaville notes.

The barge proceeded eastward along the Thames towards the English Channel, with spectators still cheering on the banks as the light began to fade.

However, as the rescue team approached Gravesend in Kent, the whale started to convulse, and it became clear that survival was unlikely.

“We administered drugs to sedate it,” Deaville explains. “We weren’t entirely sure if that led to its demise, but it unfortunately passed away on the boat.”

A grave silence enveloped the vessel as the team came to terms with the failure of their long day’s efforts.

“Even knowing the odds were only 50-50 at best, we poured our hearts into the rescue, and everyone was understandably distraught.

“I asked the barge’s captain to turn off the deck lights so we could have a moment of reflection,” Stevens reflects.

The whale was subsequently taken to a landing site, and the following day the veterinary team conducted a post-mortem examination.

It revealed the dire state of the female whale. A creature dependent on deep-sea life for sustenance, she had not been able to obtain necessary nutrition and hydration in the coastal waters of Britain.

“She hadn’t fed properly and was extremely dehydrated. There were signs of having stranded multiple times,” Deaville explains.

“There was only one likely outcome, but that was clearer only in hindsight.”

Deaville notes that the samples collected from the whale continue to benefit scientists today.

“Deep-diving whales are elusive. They are challenging to study in the wild, so a stranding like this allows us to gather information that contributes to research for years to come.”

The whale’s skeleton, preserved in the Natural History Museum, was displayed in 2007 at the headquarters of the Guardian newspaper in central London.

The incident also inspired creative works, including the song “Northern Whale” by Damon Albarn and Oisín McKenna’s 2024 novel “Evenings and Weekends.”

What continues to resonate with Stevens two decades later is how the plight of one whale united many individuals, with offers of help pouring in from all corners—ranging from a stranger who brought Stevens sandwiches after learning of his diabetes to an official who reached out to facilitate lowering the Thames Barrier.

The team even had their parking fines from the day waived.

“I remarked afterward that if we aimed for world peace—and goodness knows we could use it right now—the solution might just be to orchestrate a whale rescue. It truly brings out the best in humanity.”

For Deaville, the day’s events showcased the remarkable transformation Britain experienced, moving from being “the epicenter of whaling” to a nation of conservationists within a remarkably brief period.

“It highlights how far we’ve come; if that whale had come up the Thames 50 years ago, it might have been killed as a shipping threat rather than undergoing such a massive rescue operation.

“That, in itself, is a profound realization.”