Bill Walker, lauded expert on marine organisms, dies at 79

Walker became a leading authority on the prey of marine organisms, and at one time or another worked on numerous species of marine mammals and seabirds.

Bill Walker, a local scientist and marine mammal biologist who was widely recognized as a world expert on the identification of fish and other marine organisms, died peacefully at his home in Burton on Monday, April 4, surrounded by family. He was 79 years old.

The cause was complications relating to recently diagnosed spinal cancer.

Walker became a leading authority on the prey of marine organisms, and at one time or another worked on numerous species of marine mammals and seabirds. He was also known for the help he freely gave to young researchers.

Unlike most scientists who achieve an international reputation, Walker never went beyond his undergraduate education to obtain a master’s or a doctorate. Sandy Noel, his wife, said that “Bill did all that work without any other degrees. All he had was a brilliant mind, a lot of natural curiosity, and great love for his profession.”

William A. Walker was born on Aug. 21, 1942, in Long Beach, California. His childhood fascination with nature led him to study zoology at California State University in Humboldt, where he graduated with a Bachelor of Arts in 1967. With a wife and two children, Walker went to work to support his family, taking a job as a biologist at Marineland of the Pacific, a large marine aquarium in Los Angeles, in 1968.

There, he was introduced to the use of certain anatomical structures to identify the prey of marine mammals by John Fitch, a fish taxonomist who pioneered the technique.

Walker eventually left Marineland and began working for the National Marine Fisheries Service (NMFS). In 1986 — by now divorced — he was passing through Seattle on his way to a research project in Japan when he was asked to meet with Sandra Noel, who was then working as a biologist and scientific illustrator. Currently, Noel is Vashon’s poet laureate, in addition to being an illustrator, graphic designer and interpretive writer.

“My boss told me that Bill was a dolphin expert, and needed to review the art, as he had some concerns,” Noel said. “This was not what I wanted to hear, because these drawings had already been reviewed and finalized. I reluctantly agreed to see him. When he walked in, I saw this handsome, blue-eyed man and he saw me. We talked about the art for about five minutes and then about our lives, our children. Later I jokingly told my boss, ‘I think I’ll marry him.’”

She and Walker went to Japan together the following year, then he moved to Washington to be with her. He bought a house on Vashon and they moved in together with her son and his two daughters. They married a few years later.

Beginning in 1987, he began a long-term association with NMFS’s National Marine Mammal Laboratory in Seattle. There, he took the lead in studies of marine mammal prey, processing thousands of gut contents from cetaceans, seals and seabirds.

The work was hardly glamorous. It involved messily digging through the stomachs of various dead marine creatures to pull out anatomical hard parts such as ear otoliths, squid beaks, and fish bones, and then spending endless hours peering into a microscope identifying them to find out what the animal in question had been eating before it died.

Walker published his first scientific paper on marine mammal food habits in 1979, by which time he was recognized as an expert on the subject. He went on to author or co-author more than 30 other publications on the diets of marine mammals, marine birds and squid.

His colleague Tom Gelatt, who worked closely with him in Seattle, noted that “He was one of the world experts in fish taxonomy, but the combination of his practical knowledge and experience made him unique.”

His reputation was not confined to the U.S. He often worked in Japan, studying the food habits of Baird’s beaked whales caught in the fishery there; he subsequently published a major scientific paper on the species together with Jim Mead and Bob Brownell, both of whom were friends with Walker for decades.

Over the years, Walker amassed a private collection of prey items which has served as a valuable reference for numerous scientists engaged in dietary studies. He never hesitated to provide other researchers with access to the collection, or to help others. Gelatt noted that “Bill often did pro-bono work for students and scientists who had a burning question that only he could answer, but who were short on funds to ways to pay him.”

Tonya Zeppelin, a Seattle colleague, commented on the comprehensive and meticulous nature of his work.

“He could identify every species,” she said. “Some from just bits and pieces. He had fantastic stories of the high seas fisheries, and often treated me to packs of fresh-caught crab and salmon.”

When not peering into a microscope, Walker spent much time on the water fishing.

Walker’s dedication to his work was sometimes manifested in amusing ways.

Kristi West, another biologist who credits Walkers as having a huge impact on her life and career, joked, “When I visited Bill on Vashon I was struck by his microscope living at the head of the dining room table, and how we ate around the scope at all meals. I think it resided there permanently.”

Walker will long be remembered for the thoughtfulness of small gestures. Tom Gelatt recalled that they would have early morning conversations (despite commuting from Vashon, Walker was frequently the first person to arrive at the Seattle laboratory).

“Years ago, I related to Bill about my habit of picking up animal bones and teeth on different field trips,” Gelatt said. “A few days later Bill showed up in my office with an envelope full of teeth and fossils that he had collected over the years, some that he’d had since childhood. They have ever since graced our living room table, where my children repeatedly instructed their friends about the mako shark teeth and whale ear bones he’d collected.”

Walker’s easy-going temperament and wry sense of humor served him well, and never more so than when he was employed as a marine mammal observer in a controversial tuna fishery off California. Charles Potter, of the Smithsonian, recalled being tutored by Walker when Potter was assigned to work in the tuna fleet in the 1970s when huge numbers of dolphins were being killed.

“Bill mentored me on the ins and outs of being at sea,” Potter said.“And especially on a commercial fishing boat where your presence was not entirely welcome.”

It’s not clear who will fill the large gap his death has left in the field — though it will likely be one of the former students whose careers he so generously helped to develop.

John Bengtson, director of the Marine Mammal Laboratory, summed up Walker’s legacy in a message to his staff: “He was an extremely gracious and generous man who served as a mentor, co-author, and friend to many of us here as well as to scientists throughout the Pacific region. Bill’s scientific legacy will last for generations, but as of today those of us who knew him will greatly miss the friend that we have lost so unexpectedly.”

Walker leaves behind his wife, Sandra Noel; daughters Jennifer Cabanero and Nancy Bond; stepson Summers Bohenstiel; grandchildren Katie Bond, Alexander and Esirae Bohenstiel; and sister Bea Walker and her daughters Lainie Motamebi and Betsy Kheriaty.

Donations in his memory to help students in marine mammal science can be made at tinyurl.com/bdfx68f9.