Burying the whale in secret was bad enough, given how deeply and clearly he liked being around people. Even a few minutes watching him splashing in Heimaey harbor was enough to make it clear that pomp and circumstance and fuss would have been fine with him, even preferred. Keiko never particularly wanted to be alone in the wild, or even with other whales in the wild.
But he was also buried. At land, not at sea. Something deeply wrong with that.