Whale hunting with gun and camera: A naturalist's account of the modern shore-whaling industry, of whales and their habits, and of hunting experiences in various parts of the worldAndrews, Roy Chapman
Science
Whale hunting with gun and camera: A naturalist's account of the modern shore-whaling industry, of whales and their habits, and of hunting experiences in various parts of the world
Andrews, Roy Chapman
Whales; Whaling
A series of violent storms which kept the ships inside had been raging
along the coast, but at last the clouds began to break one evening and
gather into great fleecy mountains of white, now and then drifting away
enough to show the moon behind. The bad weather had apparently ended and
at ten o’clock I went aboard the _Hogei Maru No. 5_ as the guest of
Captain Y. E. Andersen.
[Illustration:
The whaling station at Aikawa, North Japan. “Aikawa is a typical
little fishing village, situated at the end of a beautiful bay which
sometimes harbors as many as fourteen whale ships from the four
neighboring stations.”
]
A streak of brilliant sunshine playing across my face from the skylight
awakened me at five o’clock in the morning. The ship was rolling along
in a moderate swell, but the patch of sky which shone through the open
square above my head was as blue as the waters of a tropic sea. Captain
Andersen was still asleep, and I had just decided to dress and go on
deck when the cabin boy ran hurriedly down the companionway and called
“_Kujira_” (whale). In five minutes we were both on deck, and upon
reaching the bridge I said to the man at the wheel, “_Kore wa nani desu
ka?_” (What kind is it?)
[Illustration:
A sei whale on the slip at Aikawa. This species is allied to the
finback but is smaller.
]
He replied in Japanese: “I don’t know yet; sperm, I think.”
[Illustration:
The spout of a sei whale. The column of vapor shoots straight upward
and is lower and less dense than that of the finback.
]
I was tremendously excited at this for I wished above all things to get
at close quarters with a school of sperm whales, which, off this coast,
often numbers several hundred individuals. I strained my eyes through a
powerful field glass, sweeping the sea ahead to catch sight of a spout
which would tell the story. Suddenly it came, about a mile ahead, and we
both exclaimed, “_Iwashi kujira!_” (Sardine whale!) for the column of
vapor shooting straight upward and drifting slowly off on the wind was
strikingly different from the puff-like blow of the sperm.
We were running at full speed toward the animal, which was spouting
every ten or fifteen seconds. Andersen was forward superintending the
loading of the gun and inspecting the harpoon rope which lay coiled on
the heavy iron pan at the bow.
[Illustration:
“He ... would sometimes swim just under the surface with only the tip
of the dorsal fin exposed.”
]
“He’s a good whale,” the Gunner called out to me, and by that he meant
that we would soon get a shot because the animal was spouting so
frequently. He was never down longer than five minutes, and would
sometimes swim just under the surface with only the tip of the dorsal
fin exposed. At other times his course could be followed by patches of
smooth, green water which spread out in a broad trail behind him.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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