The 372: Racing to Save North America's Most Endangered Whale
With only 372 North Atlantic right whales left, every birth, death, and entanglement matters. Inside the unprecedented effort to prevent extinction.

Every North Atlantic right whale has a name. Chiminea, named for the chimney-like pattern on her head. Black Heart, for the distinctive marking above her eye. Grand Teton, a 44-year-old matriarch who just had her ninth calf. When your entire species numbers just 372 individuals, every whale becomes irreplaceable.
This isn't hyperbole—it's mathematics. With only about 70 reproductively active females remaining, the North Atlantic right whale teeters on what biologists call functional extinction. Yet in the waters from Florida to Newfoundland, an unprecedented conservation effort is unfolding, one that combines cutting-edge technology, international cooperation, and fundamental changes to centuries-old fishing practices.
The Numbers That Matter
The latest population estimate stands at 372 whales, a slight improvement from the 358 counted in 2020. But this fragile recovery masks a harsh reality: deaths continue to outpace births. In 2024 alone, five whales died and four calves were lost—the highest mortality count since 2019.
The good news came during the 2024-2025 calving season, when 11 new mother-calf pairs were documented off the southeastern United States. Among them was Caterpillar, a 20-year-old female having her first calf—much older than the typical 7-10 years for first-time mothers. Her late start at motherhood reflects the stress these whales face: malnutrition from climate-driven prey shifts, chronic entanglement injuries, and the energy costs of avoiding ships and fishing gear.
A Tangle of Threats
Since 2017, when NOAA declared an Unusual Mortality Event, 157 right whales have been killed, seriously injured, or fallen ill—over 20% of the entire population. The two primary culprits are painfully mundane: rope and propellers.
Entanglement in fishing gear remains the leading threat. Picture vertical lines stretching from lobster and crab traps on the seafloor to buoys at the surface—millions of them along the Eastern Seaboard. To a whale, these ropes are nearly invisible walls. Once entangled, whales can drag gear for months or years, slowly starving as the lines cut into their flesh and make feeding difficult.
Ship strikes present an equally lethal threat. Right whales feed by skimming along just below the surface, directly in the path of vessel traffic in some of the world's busiest shipping lanes. At speeds above 10 knots, collisions are almost always fatal.
The Tech Revolution in Fishing Gear
In a warehouse in Massachusetts, hundreds of devices that look like something between a pool float and a submarine sit waiting for deployment. These are ropeless fishing systems—potentially game-changing technology that could allow fishing and whale survival to coexist.
"The ability to use gear retrieval devices that do not require stationary buoy lines would be truly game changing for right whales," explains NOAA ecologist Caroline Good. Three main technologies are being tested with about 60 fishermen across five states: pop-up buoys that surface on command, inflatable lift bags, and buoyant spools that unwind from the seafloor.
The challenge isn't just technological—it's cultural and economic. Lobster fishing has used the same basic technique for generations. Asking fishermen to adopt $3,000 devices (compared to $100 traditional buoys) requires significant investment. That's why a $9.9 million partnership with MITRE, funded by the Inflation Reduction Act, is working to make ropeless gear both practical and affordable.
A Tale of Two Nations
Right whales don't recognize international boundaries, but their survival depends on unprecedented U.S.-Canadian cooperation. When whales are detected in Canadian waters, authorities can close 2,000 square kilometers to fishing for 15 days—an area larger than Greater London. Ships must slow to 10 knots in designated areas, with fines reaching nearly $1 million for violations.
The U.S. approach has been more contentious. NOAA proposed expanding vessel speed restrictions in 2024 to include smaller boats and larger areas, but withdrew the rule in January 2025 amid political pressure. Meanwhile, enforcement of existing rules has intensified, with $950,306 in penalties assessed across 56 cases in recent years.
The Climate Wild Card
The Gulf of Maine, the whales' traditional feeding ground, has warmed faster than 98% of the global ocean. This warming has scattered their primary food source—rice-grain-sized copepods called Calanus finmarchicus—forcing whales into new areas with fewer protections.
In a surprising development, 21 right whales returned to the Bay of Fundy in 2024 after largely abandoning it in 2010. This suggests the whales are still searching for stable feeding grounds as their ocean transforms around them.
Success Stories in Dark Waters
Not all news is grim. In late 2024, three entangled whales—Neptune, Chiminea, and whale #4120—successfully shed their gear. Chiminea's recovery was particularly dramatic: after months dragging two buoys attached near her lip, she appeared gear-free on December 18, her body already beginning to regain condition.
Technology is providing new hope. Fifty passive acoustic monitoring units now listen for whale calls from Virginia to the Gulf of Maine, transmitting real-time locations to mariners. A new population viability tool, developed over five years of U.S.-Canadian collaboration, helps scientists model which interventions could be most effective.
The Path Forward
The math is unforgiving but not impossible. Models show that reducing vessel strikes and entanglements by about 50% could stabilize the population. Eliminating human-caused deaths could allow recovery to begin.
Some solutions are surprisingly simple. Ghost gear removal programs have already pulled 40,940 units of abandoned fishing equipment and 928 kilometers of rope from Canadian waters. Dynamic management areas that close to fishing when whales are present have prevented countless potential entanglements.
Others require fundamental shifts. Seasonal speed restrictions need to be expanded and enforced. Ropeless gear must transition from pilot programs to standard practice. Climate adaptation strategies need to anticipate where whales will feed as oceans continue warming.
Every Whale Counts
Philip Hamilton from the New England Aquarium, who has studied these whales for decades, remains cautiously hopeful despite the challenges: "I wish we could infer that this paints a rosy picture for the future, but the 2024 mortalities and serious injuries are sobering."
Yet each successful birth, each disentanglement, each new technology deployed represents progress. Grand Teton, at 44, just had her ninth calf—proof that these whales remain resilient despite everything.
The North Atlantic right whale's story isn't just about one species. It's about whether humanity can change fast enough to coexist with the wild creatures that share our planet. With 372 whales remaining, there's no margin for error—but there's still time to get it right.
The race is on, and every day matters. In the waters off North America's eastern coast, scientists, fishermen, policymakers, and conservationists are writing what could be either the final chapter of the North Atlantic right whale's story—or the beginning of its recovery.