Photo: Jo-Anne McArthur – We Animals
Dr Jane Goodall is remembered worldwide as an inspiring environmentalist, humanitarian and animal champion. Over her 91 years, she made a significant impact, particularly through her groundbreaking research on chimpanzees, which challenged mainstream science by depicting those she studied as individuals with distinct personalities and complex emotions. She helped us understand that we are all connected. We are part of one family. While she is best known for her work with chimpanzees, her dedication to advocacy for all animals and nature has been unwavering. I’ve been in awe of Jane’s work for decades, and I’ve had the privilege to know her personally for several years. I want to share some cherished memories of this truly remarkable woman, who was my hero and my friend.
Like millions of people around the world, I grew up hearing about Jane through documentaries and television interviews. Sitting in my living room in England and later in Australia, I felt a strong connection to her deep love and respect for animals and nature. On screen, she presented as composed and passionate, and her stories about the natural world were captivating. In many ways, she validated what I instinctively felt about animals: despite the differences between our species, we have more in common than not. We share this planet, and we must respect both it and one another. Little did I know back then that I would eventually have the opportunity to meet Jane and even consider her a friend.
The first time I personally experienced Jane’s influence in my life was through my university lecturer, Dr Mike Bossley, who studied dolphins in Adelaide’s Port River and regarded Jane as his role model. Like Jane, he chose to observe nature rather than interfere with it and named each of the individual dolphins he studied. I served as one of his research assistants for three years, a time in which I learned a great deal about the wondrous yet fragile marine ecosystem, as well as the astonishingly intelligent and complex mammals and other beings who inhabit it. During this period, I also met a solitary, injured wild dolphin named Jock, who, as many of you know, profoundly changed my life. I later wrote my memoir about my friendship with Jock and how he taught me to trust.
My curiosity and love for dolphins and nature inspired me to become an environmental and science journalist. In my long career, I covered many stories about the Adelaide Zoo (Zoos SA). Although I disliked seeing animals confined, I chose to focus on the zoo’s conservation efforts, particularly at Monarto Safari Park, an open-plan zoo, also run by Zoos SA. In 2008, I was invited by the zoo’s CEO, Dr Chris West, to a fundraising event where Jane was the VIP guest speaker. I was thrilled about the opportunity and eager to hear her speak, wondering if she would be as compelling in person as she appeared on television.
It was a formal affair, held at a large function centre in Adelaide. Seeing Jane on stage and listening to her talk was surreal. She was every bit as passionate, knowledgeable and captivating in real life as I had hoped. I hung onto her every word, completely enthralled with her wildlife stories and message of hope. She explained how each of us can create a better world for animals, the environment and people through our individual and combined actions.
After her speech, Chris introduced Jane to several guests, and I was fortunate enough to be one of them. I felt like I was in the presence of royalty and had the urge to curtsy. After all, Jane was a Dame of the British Empire! Instead, I shook her delicate hand and was immediately struck by her grace, humility and quiet strength. I babbled on about being a huge fan of her work, and she smiled in response, thanking me for my kind words. I noticed that her warm eyes were the vivid green of a lush jungle, and how very appropriate that was. During our brief conversation, she emphasised that we are all part of the animal kingdom, not apart from it. She exuded positivity, understanding, courage and kindness. After our chat, Jane seemed to glide out of the room like an ethereal earth spirit, but one who was truly grounded.
Six years later, I had left my job in the media and moved to Melbourne. Whilst no longer in Adelaide, I kept in touch with Mike, who had become a close friend. In early 2021, he informed me that the dolphins of the Port River were dying in mysterious circumstances. This news sent me into a tailspin. I desperately wanted to encourage people to care about what was happening to the dolphins and put pressure on the state government to investigate. I felt compelled to act.
I believed the best way to draw attention to the dolphins was to finally share my story about how Jock, the dolphin, had helped me heal from the trauma of childhood domestic violence. This meant I would have to open up about my disturbing past. I felt terribly vulnerable and was worried about being judged or ridiculed. Taking the plunge, I wrote my memoir, A Dolphin Called Jock. To my amazement, it was published internationally. The overseas publishers changed the title to The Dolphin Who Saved Me and asked me to think of someone I deeply respect in the UK or the US, whom I would like to read and possibly endorse it. Jane immediately came to mind. I felt it might be an impossible feat to contact her, let alone ask her to review my book. But I felt needed to try.
The Dolphin Who Saved Me (Greystone Books, 2022) Canada, USA, UK
I reconnected with Chris, who had introduced me to Jane years earlier, in the hope he might have contact information for Jane’s office. Surprisingly, he did and kindly offered to reach out to her representatives on my behalf. Within a week, he got back to me with an email address where I could send my request. A week or so later, Jane’s representative responded to my message, requesting a digital copy of my book for Jane to read, which I was thrilled to send. I honestly didn’t expect to hear anything more, so I put it to the back of my mind. Weeks went by, and I lost hope of receiving any news. Then, as Christmas 2022 approached, I got another email from Jane’s representative, informing me that Jane had read my book and was happy to provide an endorsement. I couldn’t believe it! I was overcome with joy and astonished that Jane had actually taken the time out of her hectic schedule to read my story.
Two weeks later, Jane’s representative emailed her words to me. As I read Jane’s endorsement, I was moved to tears—her words were so very insightful and beautiful:
‘This is an extraordinary and unique book of fear, hatred and the healing power of nature. With brutal honesty, Melody Horrill shares with us the terrifying, abusive behaviour of her father and her love/hate relationship with her mother. But what makes this book so inspiring is the skilful way she links her own unhappy experiences with those of Jock, a lonely, orphaned river dolphin. So well written you will feel you are actually with them as they gradually develop a friendship that becomes love in its purest form. It was Jock’s tragic death that led Melody to fight for the better protection of dolphins everywhere’.
Jane’s understanding of why I wrote the book, and her thoughtful, heartfelt endorsement, left me speechless. I felt enormously grateful for her kindness and humbled by her generosity.
Jane in 2022, posing with my memoir (photo: JGI Canada)
A few days later, while sipping my morning coffee, an email from an unfamiliar address appeared in my inbox. I hesitated to open it, worried it might be spam. But it was from Jane herself. My heart leapt into my throat, and I held my breath as I read her message. She said that she hoped I wouldn’t mind her reaching out to me personally. She wanted to congratulate me on my ‘beautifully written’ memoir and asked if I would be interested in helping to create her new Cetacean Committee. Jane added that she ‘immediately thought of me’ and believed I would make ‘valuable contributions’. She signed off by saying that if I was interested, I should contact the committee chair, Dr Koen Margodt. For a second, I thought someone was, indeed, spamming me. It was so unreal.
I re-read Jane’s email several times. I was overwhelmed with disbelief that she thought me worthy of being involved in something so important. I was just a girl from Adelaide who loved animals – especially dolphins, and the ocean — surely, I did not deserve this honour. Jane’s incredible belief in me inflated my heart like a balloon; it was so full I thought it would burst! Of course, I would help. If Jane thought I had something to offer, then perhaps I truly did. I immediately wrote back, saying it would be a privilege to serve on her committee, and then contacted Dr Margodt.
And so began my involvement with the Jane Goodall Institute’s (JGI) Cetacean Committee, composed of dolphin and whale (cetacean) experts from around the globe. Over the next two years, I became actively involved with its efforts to end the capture of whales and dolphins and their confinement in artificial tanks. We worked to support organisations and individuals in creating seaside sanctuaries where former performing animals could retire with dignity and enjoy greater freedom.
The Jane Goodall Institute’s Cetacean Committee members: Dr Jane Goodall (deceased) Dr Koen Margodt (co-chair), Dr Rebeca Atencia, Dr Denise Herzing, Dr Soojin Jang, Dr Lori Marino, Dr Ada Natoli, Dr Rick Quinn, Dr Naomi Rose, Dr Ingrid Visser, Charles Vinick, Sarah Wertkin (secretary) Melody Horrill (co-chair).
Jane attended many of our online meetings, and I was always awe-struck by her gentle yet determined approach. Although Jane had enormous experience and was famous, she was never arrogant. She never lectured us; instead, she shared her wisdom gently, always prioritising the welfare of the animals. She encouraged us to find pragmatic solutions while offering her own insights, always respecting the views of everyone. Her presence transcended the screen, invigorating us and always leaving me hopeful that our committee could make a real difference.
She generously recorded videos[1] to raise awareness about the importance of allowing dolphins and whales to be free, the plight of captive individuals, and the need for sanctuaries. Jane contributed to and signed campaign letters. She always found time in her incredibly hectic schedule to help whales and dolphins, whom she adored as much as she was horrified by their living conditions in captivity.
Through the committee, I have had the honour of meeting many experts and passionate people, including Dr Koen Margodt, an animal ethicist from Belgium. Koen eventually invited me to co-chair the committee alongside him, and he has become one of my closest friends. He reminds me a lot of Jane: he is humble yet resilient, gentle yet strong. He cares deeply about animal welfare, and I have had the privilege of supporting some of his brilliant papers. I consider Koen my brother; he has one of the purest hearts I have ever encountered, and his love of animals is boundless, as is his ongoing work to protect them. He joked that Jane, he, and I were like the fellowship in Tolkien’s books, which we all enjoyed. Although Jane is sadly no longer with us and our fellowship is smaller, our determination to help dolphins, whales and all animals remains robust.
My two dear mates Koen and Jane (Photo: Dr Koen Margodt)
Through Jane, I have met many remarkable individuals whose kindness, intelligence and empathy remind me of the goodness in the world. One of those is Ray Clark, who generously supports my website. Jane had a talent for connecting people from around the globe, and our love for her is the glue.
As for my much-loved Port River dolphins, the cause of their deaths was never fully explained, but necropsies revealed industrial pollutants in their tissue, which most likely lowered their immune system, making them susceptible to disease. Some of the dolphins also had fishing line and hooks embedded in their internal organs. A subsequent Select Parliamentary Committee provided recommendations to improve protection for the dolphins and their habitat. I still hope for stronger regulations to safeguard their future.
Parliamentary Committee details
I continued volunteering with the JGI Cetacean Committee, but even with Koen by my side, I sometimes felt inadequate to co-chair it. Unlike most members, I was not a scientist and did not hold a doctorate. A few times, I suggested to Koen that the committee might be better served with a well-known scientist leading alongside him. Koen reassured me that this was not the case, but on one occasion, I became convinced that I should step down. He reached out to Jane, who took a moment from her busy schedule to write to me, asking me to continue. She told me that ‘compassion is more important than science’ and that I should ‘never feel inadequate or small’. Her words struck me profoundly. That was Jane: she understood the importance of empathy and how emotions are crucial when encouraging people to save animals and the environment – ‘If we care, we help,’ she said. Soon thereafter, a parcel arrived. It was from Jane. Inside was a beautiful silver dolphin pin with a short, handwritten note saying, ‘Dear Mel, this seems just right for you. Love Jane.’ I no longer had any case of the wobbles, thanks to Jane’s and Koen’s support, and I remain co-chair.
When Jane visited Australia in June 2024, I had the incredible opportunity to spend an afternoon with her in Melbourne. This was our second meeting in person, and instead of feeling the need to curtsy, I immediately threw my arms around her. She hugged me back with such warmth that I felt we were old friends being reunited rather than relatively recent ones becoming acquainted.
During that memorable day, we talked about our favourite animals, my involvement with the Kangaroo Island dolphins, our shared love of the ocean, our mutual friend Koen, her Roots and Shoots program for youth, her aspirations for the Cetacean Committee and the need to end the exploitation of dolphins and whales for entertainment. I thanked her for giving a voice to animals; she gently reprimanded me by pointing out that animals do have a voice, but we mostly don’t understand it, so she simply speaks out for them.
Reuniting with Jane in Melbourne, June 2024
I told her I was in awe of her boundless energy and commitment to travelling most of the year to deliver talks. Her determination to continue working as long as possible was both admirable and motivating. She said it was her ‘mission’ and that whenever she felt exhausted, she simply asked for more energy and received it. I was astounded. Jane also shared that she viewed death as her ‘next great adventure.’ I was deeply moved by her spirituality, which resonated with aspects of my own. I felt our connection growing stronger and sensed that I was getting to know the ‘real’ Jane, not the public icon, but the down-to-earth, English woman with a heart of gold and a deep sense of duty to protect the natural world.
During our time together, several people came to visit Jane, seeking advice, guidance, or a photo. She listened intently to everyone, gently offered her perspective, and posed for yet another picture. She epitomised class and compassion, with no hint of ego or self-importance. I watched Jane as she greeted familiar and unfamiliar faces and was moved by her warmth and authenticity. She seemed sincerely enthusiastic about sharing her knowledge with others. She showed me what genuine grace looks like.
I also learned that Jane had a quick sense of humour and loved a joke, particularly at the expense of politicians she did not care for. Her laugh reminded me of the sound of a babbling brook. At the end of our time together, we shared a wee dram of local whiskey, and her jungle-green eyes glistened with mirth as we bantered about the liquor’s obvious health benefits. We toasted the day that Koen, she, and I would come together for the launch of the world’s first seaside dolphin sanctuary.
Toasting with a wee dram of Melbourne’s finest (June 2024)
That evening, a friend and I attended her public talk. Although she appeared dainty on the massive stage, her presence filled the auditorium. Her enthusiasm was palpable, and her anecdotes reflected her deep love and respect for the natural world. Her laughter was infectious. I am certain that everyone in that large audience felt touched, changed and inspired by Jane’s unshakable belief in hope and her uplifting spirit. Jane truly was an unstoppable force for—and of—nature.
Jane had mentioned that dogs were her favourite animals and shared how they always seemed to be drawn to her. A few months later, I became involved with a charity called ‘Retired Police Dogs SA’ and asked Jane if she could write a quote for them to use. The charity was overwhelmed with gratitude when they received her statement, which they now use to help raise awareness and funds. Additionally, Jane agreed to write a quote for a book I had written about rescue animals. Despite being incredibly busy, Jane always found time to help.
In April 2025, I was diagnosed with breast cancer. I was shocked and scared. This marked the beginning of a constant stream of emails from Jane, who metaphorically held my hand throughout my surgery and treatment. Her messages, sent from distant corners of the globe, were filled with empathy and encouragement. She described the oceans she sat beside and the forests she sat among, urging me to be strong and assuring me that she was certain I would recover. If Jane believed it, then I did.
I wrote back, providing unfiltered updates and sharing my deepest hopes and fears. During these exchanges, I confided in her about dreams I had been having of Jock, my precious dolphin friend, swimming with him in a golden sea, illuminated by a tangerine sunset, surrounded by other dolphins. She replied that she was ‘sure that Jock and the dolphins were somehow with me, urging me to heal’. Jane also assured me that the soft glow of a candle she lit for me each night carried her love across the miles.
Those emails serve as a precious reminder to me of Jane’s remarkable compassion, sensitivity and, importantly, her friendship during a dark time. Koen checked in on me daily and, with his unique sense of humour, reminded me that I needed to stick around because ‘we have much more dolphin work to do … and we have to do it together.’ I felt embraced by the loving Jane family—a feeling that was both unfamiliar and wonderfully welcome. Even though Jane’s circle is huge and includes people from all around the world, I still felt a strong sense of belonging. I continue to feel that way today.
A few months later, in early September, I received another surprise parcel from Jane. In it was a silver ring, featuring three entwined dolphins, a heavy, hand-forged pendant of a wolf on a thick chain and a small orca pin. Her message, written on a postcard featuring Beluga whales, read, ‘Dear Mel, from all over the world, dolphins and whales are sending you strong messages of strength, help and thanks. Thank you for all you have done to help them, and I join my voice with theirs. Love Jane.’ I was so touched, I wept. I was more determined than ever to continue with the committee and help create a world where dolphins and whales were no longer held captive in concrete tanks.
However, the task of creating seaside sanctuaries for rescued dolphins is challenging, as Jane, Koen, and I have always understood. But this was also true for chimpanzees in the 1990s, and many of our closest relatives are now thriving in sanctuaries in Africa and beyond. The three of us pledged that we would continue to support sanctuary efforts and unite at the opening of the world’s first seaside sanctuary.
On October 1, less than a month after receiving my beautiful package from Jane, Koen called in the early hours with devastating news, Jane had passed away in her sleep while on tour in the US. He wanted to tell me before I read it in the news. Grief gripped me immediately. I could not believe that such a resilient, unrelenting force of nature was gone. It seemed impossible. A few nights later, I dreamt of Jane. In my dream, we were on a road trip together, and she was running around and giggling like a child, even though she looked the same as always. I like to think that perhaps she was indeed revelling in her ‘next great adventure.’
Like the forests, seas, animals, and people she worked so hard to protect, Jane was precious and rare – irreplaceable. She inspired many around the world, and I know that I, like everyone she touched, will feel the gentle brush of her selfless spirit until the end of days.
I miss Jane; she was both the most humble and courageous person I have ever met. However, I know that her remarkable legacy will continue through those who carry on her brave work in environmental, humanitarian, and animal advocacy. She reminded us of the importance of hope, and it is through that hope that her mission will endure. Her infinite love and light have illuminated a path that we must follow… together.
For my friend Jane 🖤
