The language of whales
Tommaso and the language of whales: listening to the sea to protect it
Tommaso comes from Castelfranco Veneto, a small town in northern Italy known for its calm, its medieval castle in the center, and a square that always seems to be in a state of pose. He grew up far from the sea, but with the sea within him.
Since childhood, water has been part of his daily life: his father is a scuba diving instructor, and so, while the others play soccer or swim, Tommaso dons a wetsuit and learns to breathe underwater. First as a mini-diver, then with his first official certifications, he develops an intimate and natural relationship with the marine environment.
At the same time, a second interest grows: that of animals, especially wild, fragile ones, which need to be understood and cared for. After high school, he chose an unconventional path: Animal Care, a training program in veterinary nursing for wildlife. But the call of the sea remained strong, and ultimately led him to enroll in Marine Biology, specializing in marine animal conservation and recovery. During his university studies, he had the opportunity to choose his internship location. He decided to travel far away, and especially to where the sea reigns supreme: Costa Rica, at the Isla del Caño National Park, a biological reserve in the Pacific where, at certain times of the year, two populations of humpback whales from opposite hemispheres meet. Here, Tommaso works with Innoceana, a non-profit organization committed to marine conservation, scientific research, and environmental awareness. No air-conditioned laboratories or offices with a view. The work is done at sea, under the sun, with hands, eyes, and attention.
In this extraordinary context, he participates in an acoustic research project focused on the songs of humpback whales. The males' vocalizations, recorded with a hydrophone, are the subject of study: they are not simple sounds, but actual linguistic patterns, composed of modules, phrases, and refrains, which vary from year to year and spread among individuals as if they were a transmitted culture.
Tommaso records, transcribes, analyzes. He studies the structure, the repetitions, the variations. Each sound sequence can tell something: about the identity of the cetaceans, their behavior, their relationship with the environment and with other individuals. It is a work that requires time, patience, rigor, and sensitivity.
But the acoustic part is only one aspect. The project also includes behavioral observation, movement monitoring, and human impact assessment. Tommaso is participating in the creation of a regulated monitoring plan, aimed at protecting cetaceans and their habitat through guidelines for vessels, safety distances, and approach methods.
The approach is clear: listen, observe, respect.
Not just to collect data, but to concretely contribute to the conservation of a complex and fragile ecosystem.
Currently, Tommaso is writing his master's thesis. But the direction is already set. His goal is to continue working to protect marine animals, contributing to long-term projects in rescue centers and contexts where science is not an end in itself, but translates into active protection.
"If we don't save the environment, we won't save ourselves," he states. A simple phrase, yet radical in its truth.
Tommaso doesn't seek visibility. He doesn't like the spotlight. He prefers to listen. And to transform that silence into knowledge, into tools, into care.
In an era where communication often comes through hype, he demonstrates that research can also be done discreetly, letting the data, the animals, and the sea speak for themselves.
Deep in the Pacific, between a migration and a song, there is a boy with a hydrophone, a notebook, and the will to understand what is not said aloud.
A language made of water, echo, and memory.
Which today, finally, someone has begun to translate.