His name is Teno

An orca calf was born at Loro Parque on 31 March 2025. His name is Teno. He is the youngest captive orca on Earth. 

He is an animal adapted for life in the ocean. Instead he was born inside a tank, because even after SeaWorld ended its breeding program, the machinery of captivity found ways to continue.

READ: His name is Kshamenk

READ: Kshamenk has died

Loro Parque called his birth a celebration. It is not. A calf born in captivity is a sign that the machinery is still operating. 

Acquired

To understand why Teno exists at all, we must return to the moment the system found its loophole.

In 2010, a young orca was found alone off the Dutch coast. She was dehydrated. She was named Morgan. Her rescue permit allowed one thing: rehabilitate her and return her to the sea.

A release site existed: a cold-water cove identified by specialists as suitable for rehabilitation and possible release. She was never sent.

Instead, the young orca remained alone in a small tank at the Dolfinarium Harderwijk for eighteen months. During that time, her status shifted from “releasable” to “unlikely to survive.” A committee was convened to assess whether her original pod could be located, but its conclusion has been the subject of debate among orca specialists.

Once in the Canary Islands, the park’s owner called Morgan a “donation from nature” and a “new bloodline”. These words showed the truth: she had not been rescued, but acquired.

Vocalisations

Morgan’s first calf was born in September 2018. Her name was Ula. Her father, Keto, was a SeaWorld-linked male who had already killed a trainer and came from the same breeding network as Tilikum.

Morgan’s pregnancy became an international controversy that to this day has never settled: animal-welfare groups argued that breeding violated the conditions of her transfer and the purpose of her rescue. Loro Parque claimed it was Morgan’s “natural right to breed”, that pregnancy occurred “through the gate” in an unlit area with no CCTV. 

In a modern facility, unseen is never accidental: if breeding is not monitored, it is because monitoring is not wanted. “Unpreventable” is the line when prevention serves no one but the whale.

Ula did not remain with Morgan. In captive facilities, early separation between mothers and calves has been documented for decades, often for management or husbandry reasons.
In the wild, an orca calf stays with its mother for life. The loss of that bond in captivity remains one of the most contested practices in the industry.

These separations have been described by former trainers, behaviourists and independent experts as producing signs of severe distress: mothers ramming gates, going off food, or engaging in repetitive, self-damaging behaviour. Recordings from captive facilities have captured unusual, long-range calls after calves are moved. Specialists have compared these vocalisations to search calls used in the wild when family members are lost.

Survive

Footage shows Morgan repeatedly ramming her head against metal gates and beaching herself for extended periods. Former trainers and behaviourists have described these behaviours in captive orcas as signs of distress.

Morgan’s calf, Ula, developed severe health problems: skull deformities, photo-toxic lesions, chronic illness. In April 2021, the park admitted she had an intestinal issue. Four months later, she died. She was two.

Her death fitted a wider pattern: throughout the history of the captive-orca industry, early calf mortality has been common, and many calves have not lived past their first few years. The issue has been well documented across multiple facilities and remains one of the most contested aspects of captivity.

Senses

Ula showed what the industry means by “ending breeding”. A ban in name. The business model unchanged.

Teno was born on less than a year ago. Loro Parque presented his birth as proof of a “thriving family”. It proved only that the system is still creating captives.

Teno will never know open water. He will never learn to hunt or hear the voices of the family that should have raised him. His senses - developed for depth, distance, constant company - will be starved.

He will live in a world designed above all else to control his behaviour. His movements will be restricted, his social groupings managed. He will suffer muscle atrophy, chronic infection, dehydration and stress. 

Dorsal fins collapse in tanks where movement is limited and the surface becomes a ceiling. Stomach ulcers develop from stress. Teeth crack and wear down from rubbing concrete and steel. This leads to drilling and exposed pulp. Pain. Drugs. A life managed by treatment rather than freedom.

It is the architecture of confinement.

Experts

Teno’s birth is not an oversight. It is the product of an industry that has learned to reproduce itself even when it claims otherwise. If captivity is to end, the structure that created Teno must be dismantled. That requires law.

We urgently need a binding ban on breeding with independent oversight; a legal definition of conservation that requires real conservation outcomes; and rescue permits that lead either to release or to non-commercial, long-term care designed for the animals’ needs. Captivity should never be the default. We also need an international agreement that closes the gaps where the industry still survives.

Teno’s birth is not a miracle; it is the mark of a loophole. If the suffering brought by captivity is truly ending, he must be the last calf humanity ever sees behind glass. If he is not, every claim of reform is a lie.

Loro Parque states that Morgan’s rescue, transfer and subsequent care were carried out in accordance with legal decisions and veterinary oversight, and that reproductive behaviour, calf survival and welfare assessments in their facility are based on scientific evidence. The park considers several aspects of Morgan’s case to be interpreted differently by independent experts.

This Author

Dr Rebecca Gaston is a UK-based writer and animal-welfare advocate working with international NGOs on marine-freedom campaigns.