I’m bobbing along on a boat off the coast of southern California, trying to distract myself from a wobbly seasick feeling in my stomach by scanning the soft ocean ripples for signs of life. Thankfully, I’m easily captivated by the sense of mystery I feel while looking out over the ocean and wondering what lies beneath. And then, like magic, out of the blue, there she is. I feel a jolt in my chest as a massive column of air shoots 20 feet into the sky – the exhale of a giant blue whale.

The fishy smell of the whale’s exhale fills my nostrils, but the thrill of the moment overpowers my sense of smell, and I move towards the scent, leaning against the boat’s railing. I watch the whale’s long, sleek body shimmer in the sunlight as she breaks the surface, passing our boat with graceful ease.

We’ve all heard metaphors that attempt to describe the size of a blue whale – the largest animal that has ever existed. Bigger than dinosaurs. Longer than three school buses. Heavier than 24 elephants. My brain does the mental gymnastics, trying to visualise a row of school buses, but imagining does nothing to prepare me for this in-person encounter. I am elated and humbled to be so close to this ancient, massive species, and to feel the wildness that she exudes. I revel in the opportunity to feel small in her presence, my human-sized worries falling away.

Then, on the horizon, a figure appears. As it grows closer, I realise that it is an enormous cargo ship, hundreds of times larger than this blue whale. It barrels towards us, and my peaceful excitement shifts to alarm. I know that this year has been exceptionally busy for blue whales in this part of the Santa Barbara Channel, and many more whales are likely nearby, feeding on krill in the nutrient-rich waters. I also know that record numbers of fatal ship collisions with whales occurred off the coast of California for the past two years, and that the risk of ship strikes is especially high in this area.

The Santa Barbara Channel, a 70-mile stretch of ocean separating mainland California from the Northern Channel Islands, is one of the most biologically productive ecosystems on Earth, home to towering kelp forests, pods of thousands of dolphins, and large concentrations of endangered whales that come here to feed. At the same time, the channel is a major international shipping route used by thousands of ships going to and from the Ports of Los Angeles and Long Beach, one of the busiest port complexes in the world. This overlap of whales and ships results in a high risk of collisions.

By the time the cargo ship passed us, moving along this ocean highway, it seemed as though the blue whale had moved on and was out of harm’s way. I couldn’t help but wonder what might have happened if the situation had played out differently. Blue whales are an endangered species, and their small population size means that losing even one or two whales can propel them towards extinction. Did the crew on that ship even know that there were whales nearby?

As it turns out, other people were asking similar questions. In 2017 I began working as a marine scientist at the Benioff Ocean Initiative, an applied marine research centre at the University of California Santa Barbara. At that time, we were in the midst of selecting our first ocean issue to tackle, reviewing hundreds of crowdsourced ideas that had been submitted to us from people all over the world. People had been watching dead whales wash up on their shorelines, bruised and with broken bones – signs that they had been hit and killed by ships – and were keen for solutions that would prevent these collisions from happening.

Scientists estimate that more than 80 endangered whales are killed by ships each year just off the west coast of the United States. And the problem is only getting worse as shipping traffic continues to increase. In 2018 and 2019 we saw the worst years on record for ship collisions off the coast of California, and even so, these records likely only confirm a small fraction of ship strike victims, as most whale carcasses immediately sink or are carried offshore.

No one on these ships wants to unintentionally hit and kill a whale. And we all rely on the marine shipping industry as the lifeblood of the global economy. Approximately 90% of our goods travel across the ocean on a ship at some point. How can we protect these endangered species while allowing maritime commerce to continue to thrive?

After reviewing proposals, conducting research, and consulting with experts in the field, our team determined that there were some potentially viable solutions that could benefit from an influx of funding, technology development, and collaboration, which the Benioff Ocean Initiative could help provide.

Research has shown that if ships slow down, it can reduce the risk of fatal ship strikes. However, one of the challenges can be knowing when and where to slow down. A large container ship can be 1,000 ft long and 200 ft high, making it very difficult for captains and crews to spot whales with enough time to respond.

The Benioff Ocean Initiative assembled a team of leading scientists and engineers, and at our first meeting began designing Whale Safe, a technology-based system that would tackle the problem from two angles. First, we would collect, analyse, and communicate near real-time whale data, to help inform the implementation of slow speed zones. Second, we would track ships as they traversed these zones to see if they were actually slowing down.

To accomplish the first task, we decided to integrate three technologies for monitoring whales: an AI-powered underwater sound recording system that detects whale calls; a mobile app used by community scientists to record whale sightings; and big data models that provide near real-time forecasts of whale feeding grounds based on data like ocean temperature and circulation.

A team of bioacousticians, ecologists, and engineers led by Dr. Mark Baumgartner from Woods Hole Oceanographic Institution and Dr. Ana Širović from Texas A&M University at Galveston began developing an acoustic monitoring system, which uses a hydrophone and a small AI-powered computer to detect and identify blue, humpback, and fin whale calls in near real-time. “Their very low pitch, make-your-chest-vibrate, calls travel really well and are an effective means of detecting whale presence,” said Dr. Širović.

Meanwhile, a team of ecological modellers led by Dr. Briana Abrahms from the University of Washington and Dr. Elliott Hazen from UC Santa Cruz and NOAA’s Southwest Fisheries Science Center, worked on building a model that uses real-time oceanographic data like temperature and ocean currents to predict where blue whales are likely to be, like weather forecasting for whales. “The model also helps us plan for new challenges to whale conservation as ocean conditions change,” said Abrahms. “If the ocean does something extreme, like form a heat wave, it is likely to affect where and when whales will show up. The model helps us anticipate these changes, which is important for managers and mariners to be able to respond adaptively.”