Whale-Hunting as It is Now Done

New Zealand Graphic, Volume XLII, Issue 20, 19 May 1909, Page 33

Whale-Hunting as It is Now Done

The Harpoon Gun on a Steamer —What Photographs of the Animals and of Their Capture Reveal

By

ROY CHAPMAN ANDREWS, in "The Worlds Work.

LAST summer, through the kindness of the Pacific Whaling Company of Victoria, 8.C., and of Captain I. N. Hibberd, of the Tyee Company, Alaska, I had the privilege of spending several months at their stations studying whales for the American Museum of Natural History in New York. One of the things which I considered of the greatest importance was to study

and photograph the animals in the water, for even fairly good pictures of living whales have, with one or two exceptions, never been taken. Much of my work was done on board the whalingships. The difficulties of such work are many and peculiar. The little whalingsteamers are almost round on the bottom. This enables them to be turned and managed with the greatest ease, but makes sea-sickness a thing to be divided by the ordinary man. While the vessel is rolling and pitching in the usuallv unquiet waters. focusing the camera and. at the same time, keeping one’s feet—to say nothing of food— becomes a feat of considerable difficulty. No matter how strenuously the stomach rebels, nor what the physical discomforts may be. a photographer of whales must be ever on the alert, for

the unexpected always happens. Perhaps a humpback whale, without a sound of warning, will throw himself clear out of the water, or open his great mouth almost at the vessel’s side, but always at the place where it seems certain he

will not appear. Nevertheless, whalehunting with a camera is a royal sport. The whaling-steamer carries a small cannot, mounted at the bow. This shoots a harpoon weighing more than one hundred pounds, and having an explosive head or point, called the "bomb.’’ The still, tense moments of waiting, and the excitement of the instant when the great purplish body rounds up from the water directly in front of the vessel’s bow, where you stand with camera focused, ready to press the button at the crash of* the harpoon-gun, are enough to make the slowest pulse leap and the thickest blood quicken. Never will I forget the days in Alaska spent on board the steamer Tyee, Jr., Captain Charles Grahame, while I photographed finback and humpback whales. As we left the station in the morning, and steamed down the bay toward Frederick Sound, the sun was just peeping over the snow-capped mountains, and drove long, slanting paths through the fog, which spread itself like a thin veil low over the water ahead. On every side as far as the eye could see were mountain peaks, rich in changing colours of lavender and purple, rising above the green clothing of fir trees. Two hours of steaming among the little wooded islets of the sound brought us within sight of Cape Fanshaw, where the captain told me we might expect to see whales at anv time.

Hardly had the words been spoken when the man in the "barrel” at the masthead shouted: "Whale on the port side.” We looked to the left, and could see a faint mist just dissolving in the wind nearly half a mile away. Almost instantly another cloud of vapour shot up into the air, followed by the back and flukes of a huge whale. “It’s a humpback,” said the captain, “and a big one. but he’s all alone; it won’t pay to ohase him.” I must confess that I felt considerable disappointment as 1 saw the steamer keep on ahead and watched the whale, which was spouting at intervals. My fingers itched to focus the camera on that great black body, brought so close by the powerful field glasses. However, I cheeked my patience as best 1 could, and, with the glasses at my eyes, swept the water on every side. We steamed along for some distance and then turned to the right, skirting

a little group of islands called "The Five Fingers." 1 was straining my eyes through the glasses along the horizon line as we rounded the point, and suddenly saw a column of white vapour shoot up into the air away off on the starboard bow; then another, and another still. The high, narrow spout, which floated off slowly on the wind as though reluctant to dissolve, showed that the whales were finbacks.

The smoke of the discharge, the harpoon, which travels more rapidly than the naked eye can follow, bits of burning wadding, the rope, and the back of the whale are seen in this photograph. "Ting-ting” went the bell in the engine room as the captain gave the signal for full speed and swung the nose of the little vessel around to the right, heading for the whales, four of them, which were spouting frequently. They were only two miles away, and soon we were so close that the loud, whistling “whooco” of the spout could be plainly heard, as they blew and went down, leaving a long patch, or “slick,” of smooth water where they sank. I climbed down the steep ladder from the bridge to the deck, made my way forward, and stood beside the harpoongun with the camera in hand and plate-

The eye can be seen on the left of the picture, near the month, and the ear is the small round opening at the right.

holders ready. The ve-sel had l>een stopped on the “slick” left by the largest of the whales, mid lay gently rolling from side to side. There was not a sound to be heard but the splashing of the water against the side of the -hip, and the retching and groaning of the pump. Sorensen. the gunner, stood as rigid as a -tatue behind the harpoon-gun. swing-

ing the muzzle slightly from side to side, ready for instant action. The muscles of eveiy man on board were tense with the strain of waiting: five, ten, fifteen minute* dragged by. each one seeming an hour, ami 1 had begun to think that the whales would never come up. when way off the starboard quarter, rose four shoots of white vapour almost together. Immediately the quiet on the steamer was broken: “Ting-ting” sounded the l>ell. answered by the muffled “chug-chug-chug” of the engines, as the boat swung in a long circle The gunner relaxed, dropped the point of the harpoon on the coil of rope in front, and ran to the galley to gulp down a cup of coffee. I drew two or three long breaths, wiped

A buoy with a flag is attached to the carcass and the whales are set adrift to be picked up at the end of the day’s hunt. the lens of my camera, and walked over to the starboard side. The whales were down again before we reached them, and the vessel stopped on the slick where they disappeared. Again began the tense strain of waiting, but this time not so long. Six minute* went by when the man at the masthead yelled: “Look out, they’re coming. right ahead.” Sure enough, in four emerald green patches, only 20 feet away, the water began to swirl and boil: bracing myself against a rope just behind the harpoon-gun. I focused on the smooth -pot of wafer. Never will I forget tin* intense excitement of the moment when the great animals burst Io the -urface right beside us. My finger trembled on the button of the camera, but I waited for the shot. Glancing to one side. I could see Sorensen half stooping, as he swung the heavy gun about and sighted along the barrel at the great purplish b< dy. arching itself for the dive. I began to wonder if he would never shoot,

but. just a- the tin came into view, he pressed the trigger, and the explosion shook the little vessel from ‘bow to stern. The whale sank in a swirl of green water, and an instant later we hiard a muffled report—the bomb had exploded—and the taut line hanging straight down from the bow told that the great animal was dead with never a tight for life. There was not a sound on the vessel for a short time. Then Sorensen, who had been leaning over the side looking fixedly down into the water, straightened up with a sigh of relief, wiped his forehead, and said: "I hit him just right, sir: he won t give us any trouble.” The men were moving almut. going quietlv to their places. Looking up at the bridge. I saw a -atisfied grin on Captain Grahame's good natnred face. Then began the work of iirinmn? to the surface and blowing up the de-’d whale. Taking a hitch about a convenient post, the rope was slacked and run through a pullev-block at the mast he id. to reli>v e the strain of raising the great bodv. The winch was set in motion, and for fifteen minute- nothing was heard save fp.> sfeadv, monotonous grind’ os fathom after fathom of lino wis wound in. loaning over the side. I soon saw rhe shadowv outline of the wdialw fins sidesn r oad. nearing the surface: as h» c-inre alongside. a. rone weighted wit’i lead was thrown under his fiukes. a chain drawn about them I>v means of it. and tin* bodv made fast, tail foremost, to the

bow of the vessel. Hardly hid the winch stopped when two men with long-handled knifes set to work to cut off the lobes of the flukes, which, when severed, were swung on board. Already other sailors were working at a long coil of small rubber hose, one end of which was attached to the engine amt t'ne other to a hollow, spear-pointed tube of steel with perforations along its entire length. This was jabbed well down into the whale’s side, the engines started, and the animal slowly tilled with air. When the body had been inflated sufficiently to keep it afloat, the tube was a it'.idra vn. the incision plugged with akum. and the chains cast off. A small buoy with a flag was then attached to ■ ie n ass. and the whole was set adrift to be picked up at the end of the day’s hunting. The whaling factory is a group oi building-, -ituated in a bay or cove m ar enough to the feeding grounds of the animals to allow the steamer to come in each night bringing the day’s catch The dead whales are authored at a buoy in front of a long, inclined platform .ailed the ■'slip." upon which they ar drawn tail first by means of a stean w inch. To the uninitiated, the operation oi cutting up a whale afford- a e mtinua round of surprise-. from the time th< inimal is taken upon the slip until tin la-t piece of flesh ha- been put in thi boiling vats, the ease and quiekneswith which the great carcass, weighin' perhap- -ixty or seventy ton-, i- hand! ed seem- almost mcreilible. Hardly hav* the tackles been -lacked ami the body becomes stationary on the slip. befor« the •■flen-er-’’ are at work with Ion; knives, making longitudinal inci-iom

through the blubber from tail to head, along the back, side, and breast. A steel wire is fastened to the end of one of the strips, the winch is started, and slowly the great piece of blubber is torn away, as one would peel an orange. When both sides of the whale have been flensed, the entrails are removed and the body hauled to the “careass platform" at right angles to the slip, where the skeleton is stripped of flesh, disarticulated, and the bones chopped in pieces. Not a particle of the animal is wasted: the blubber is “tried out” for oil, and the meat and bones are boiled for the same purpose. Later the flesh is artificially dried and sifted, making a very tine guano, and the bones are ground up for fertilizer. Even the blood is boiled and dried with the flesh, and the water in which the blubber has been tried out makes excellent glue. The fins and tail, after being sliced into thin strips, salted and barreled, are marketable in Japan, where they are used for food, selling at 50 to 75 cents per pound. Perhaps some day we shall be using extract made from whale meat, for experiments are already being made to utilize the by-products in a more profitable way than-bv turning them into fertilizer. The flesh of the whale, if taken when the animal is first killed, is really good, and several times while 1 was at the stations it formed a welcome break in the usual diet.

This remarkable photograph, the successful snapshot after a score of failures, shows the harpoon just entering the body.