In the sheltered waters of Mexico’s upper Gulf of California, a remarkable sighting stirred conservationists: a small flock of vaquitas, the world’s most endangered marine mammal, was observed together, suggesting that hope for recovery may yet exist. The species, long believed to number in the single digits, appears to have shown signs of resilience—albeit fragile—and the sighting has renewed calls for rigorous protection and enforcement.

A species on the edge

The vaquita (Phocoena sinus) is confined to a narrow area of the northern Sea of Cortez and is considered critically endangered. Estimates over recent years placed the global population at fewer than 10 individuals, down from hundreds in the 1990s. Causes of the decline include entanglement in illegal gillnets—especially those set for the totoaba fish—and the tiny population size, which limits reproduction and recovery.

The recent sighting

In 2025, acoustic monitoring and visual survey teams recorded more than usual activity: multiple clicks and sightings consistent with a small group of vaquitas, including at least one calf. This cluster behaviour contrasts with previous years when sightings were isolated, and calves were rarely observed. The presence of a calf is especially encouraging: it signals successful reproduction, a critical component of any recovery.

Local NGOs and Mexican authorities reporting the data emphasised that while the number of animals remains extremely low, the gathering of several individuals together may indicate a doubling of social interactions necessary for breeding and survival. Conservation teams described the moment as “a sign that the species is not yet out of the game” and that immediate, sustained action is required to capitalise on this momentum.

Why this matters

A group sighting matters for several reasons. First, it shows that the vaquita’s social structure may still function. Solitary individuals struggling alone are less likely to breed. Second, the sighting of a calf suggests that reproduction is still occurring in the wild. Third, it offers hope to scientists that—with the right interventions—the downward slide can be arrested or even reversed.

Yet the broader context remains sobering. Past surveys have shown alarming decline rates—some years tracking a drop of more than 30 percent per annum. Until recently, the best hope was stabilisation rather than growth. The sudden flocking of individuals suggests that if illegal nets are removed and protection is enforced, there may be a window for recovery.

Conservation steps and remaining threats

The single greatest threat to the vaquita remains entanglement in gillnets deployed illegally for the totoaba fishery. Despite bans and a “zero tolerance” area declared within the vaquita’s core habitat, enforcement remains uneven. Survey teams report losing acoustic detectors to theft, fishermen resuming banned activities and uncertainty about how many vaquitas remain outside the protected zones.

In response to the new sighting, conservation groups are urging:

• Full enforcement of gillnet bans in the vaquita refuge
• Expansion of no-net zones into neighbouring waters where vaquitas are now being detected
• Compensation and alternative livelihoods for local fishing communities, so illegal nets become economically unattractive
• Continued monitoring, particularly acoustic detection and photo-identification, to track individual movements and health
• International cooperation, given that the vaquita’s survival hinges on eliminating the totoaba black market and illegal gear supply chains

A moment to act

The recent sighting does not mean the vaquita crisis is over. But it provides a crucial pivot point—a chance to reaffirm that rescue remains possible. Conservationists describe the moment as “a final opening” to save the species before it disappears entirely. With numbers so low, every individual counts. A calf sighting hints that nature may still be willing to respond, but only if humans act decisively.

The flock-sighting of vaquitas offers one of the most meaningful rays of hope in years for a species long written off as doomed. It shows that the vaquita’s last holdout in the Gulf of California may still sustain life—and that if we remove the nets, enforce the laws and shift focus from despair to action, recovery may yet be possible. For now, the message is clear: it is still worth fighting for the vaquita.