THE PLAYFUL HUMPBACK
The first whale which I ever saw “breach,” or jump out of the water, was
a humpback in Alaska. We raised the whale’s spout half a mile away and
ran up close before the animal sounded. It seemed certain that he would
blow again, and with engines stopped the ship rolled slowly from side to
side in the swell. The silence was intense and our nerves were strained
to the breaking point.
Ten minutes dragged by; then, without a sound of warning, the floor of
the ocean seemed to rise and a mountainous black body, dripping with
foam, heaved upward almost over our heads. It paused an instant, then
fell sideways to be swallowed up in a vortex of green water. With the
camera ready in my hands I stared at the thing. It might have been an
eruption of a submarine volcano or a waterspout; I would as soon have
thought of photographing either. Even the nerves of Sorenson, the
harpooner, were shaken and he clung weakly to the gun without a move to
use it.
The whale had dropped back scarcely twenty feet away; if it had fallen
in the other direction the vessel would have been crushed like an
eggshell beneath its forty tons of weight. Never since then have I known
of a whale breaching so close to a ship, although they have frequently
come out within a hundred and fifty feet.
A few days later we had sighted a lone bull humpback early in the
afternoon and for two hours had been doing our utmost to get a shot. The
whale seemed to know exactly how far the gun was effective and would
invariably rise just out of range. Once he sounded forty fathoms ahead
and, as I stood waiting near the gun platform with the camera ready,
suddenly the water parted directly in front of us and with a rush which
sent its huge body five feet clear of the surface the whale shot into
the air, fins wide spread, and fell back on its side amid a cloud of
spray.
I was watching for the animal on the starboard bow but managed to swing
about with the camera and press the button just before he disappeared.
Although the photograph was hardly successful, nevertheless it is
interesting as being the only one yet taken of a breaching humpback; it
shows the whale breast forward falling upon its right side.
Humpbacks probably breach in play and sometimes an entire school will
throw their forty-five-foot bodies into the air, each one apparently
trying to outdo the others. For some reason the humpbacks of Alaska and
the Pacific coast seem to breach much more frequently than do those in
Japan waters.
This species is the most playful of all the large whales—one of the
reasons why to me they are the most interesting. Breaching is probably
their most spectacular performance but what the whalers call
“lobtailing” is almost as remarkable. The animal assumes an inverted
position, literally standing upon its head, and with the entire
posterior part of the body out of the water begins to wave the gigantic
flukes back and forth. The motion is slow and measured at first, the
flukes not touching the water on either side. Faster and faster they
move until the water is lashed into foam and clouds of spray are sent
high into the air; then the motion ceases and the animal sinks out of
sight. There is considerable variety to the performance, the whale
sometimes pounding the water right and left for a few seconds and then
going down.
[Illustration:
A humpback whale “lobtailing.” The animal assumes an inverted position
and, with the entire posterior part of the body out of the water,
begins to wave the gigantic flukes back and forth, lashing the water
into foam.
]
Many of the gunners believe that lobtailing is indulged in to free the
whale’s flukes from the barnacles which fasten in clusters to the tips
and along the edges. I do not believe that this supposition can be
correct for the barnacles are embedded too firmly in the blubber to be
dislodged by such beating. That the animals come into shallow water and
rub against rocks to rid themselves of parasites, as whalemen report,
seems much more probable.
The playful disposition of these whales is manifested in other ways.
Very frequently when a ship is hunting a single humpback the animal will
play tag with the vessel. It will come up first on one side and then on
the other; “double” under water and rise almost at the stern; thrust its
head into the air or plunge along the surface with half the body exposed
but always just out of range of the harpoon-gun. Sometimes this will
last for two or three hours or until the whale is killed; at others the
animal will seem to tire of the game and with a farewell flirt of its
tail dive and swim away.
Captain Scammon says:
In the mating season they are noted for their amorous antics. At such
times their caresses are of the most amusing and novel character, and
these performances have doubtless given rise to the fabulous tales of
the swordfish and thrasher attacking whales. When lying by the side of
each other, the Megapteras frequently administer alternate blows with
their long fins, which love-pats may, on a still day, be heard at a
distance of miles. They also rub each other with the same huge and
flexible arms, rolling occasionally from side to side, and indulging
in other gambols which can easier be imagined than described.[2]
Footnote 2:
“The Marine Mammals of the North-western Coast of North America.” By
Charles M. Scammon, p. 45.
The animals of which I have thus far been writing are classified in the
suborder _Mystacoceti_, or whalebone whales, and are distinguished from
the suborder _Odontoceti_, or toothed whales, by the possession of two
parallel rows of thin, horny plates which hang from the roof of the
mouth. These plates, commercially called whalebone but properly known as
baleen, are growths from the skin much like the claws, finger or
toenails of land mammals and are not composed of bone but of a substance
called “keratin.” Each plate is roughly triangular, being wide at the
base and narrow at the tip, and has the inner edges frayed out into long
fibers; these hairlike bristles form a thick mat inside the mouth and
thus the small shrimps and other minute food upon which the baleen
whales feed are strained out and eaten. The development of whalebone is
one of the most remarkable specializations shown by any living mammal.
The baleen is, in reality, merely an exaggeration of the cross ridges
found in the roof of the mouth of a land mammal and a somewhat similar
straining apparatus is present in a duck’s bill.
The great majority of people believe that all large whales eat fish
whereas none, except the sperm whale, does so when other food is to be
obtained. All the baleen whales eat small crustaceans and especially the
little red shrimp (_Euphausia inermis_), which is about three-quarters
of an inch long. These minute animals float in great masses, sometimes
near the surface but often several fathoms below it, and the movements
of the whales are very largely determined by their position and
abundance.
[Illustration:
The tongue of a humpback whale, which has been forced out of the
animal’s mouth by air pumped into the body to keep it afloat.
]
The feeding operations are most interesting to watch, and if the shrimps
happen to be but a short distance under water, as often happens during
the morning and evening or just before a storm, they can be easily seen.
The whale starts forward at good speed, then opens its mouth and takes
in a great quantity of water containing numbers of shrimp, turns on its
side and brings the ponderous lower jaw upward, closing the mouth. The
great soft tongue, filling the space between the rows of baleen, expels
the water in streams, leaving only the little shrimp which have been
strained out by the bristles on the inner side of the whalebone plates.
The fins and one lobe of the flukes are thrust into the air as the mouth
is closed, and sometimes the animal rolls from side to side. At this
time the whales are careless of danger and pay not the slightest
attention to a ship. The quantity of shrimp eaten by a single whale is
enormous. I have taken as much as four barrels from the stomach of a
blue whale which even then was by no means full. Probably when shrimp
are very scarce or are not obtainable, all the fin whales eat small
fish, but during the last eight years I have personally examined the
stomachs of several hundred finners and found fish in only four or five
individuals.
Humpbacks, like all the large whales, show great affection for their
young and many touching stories are told of their devotion. If a female
with her calf is seen the whalemen know that both can be secured and
often shoot the calf first, if it is of fair size, for the mother will
not leave her dead baby.
This affection is reciprocated by the calf, as the following incident,
related by J. G. Millais, Esq., will show:
Captain Nilsen, of the whaler _St. Lawrence_, was hunting in Hermitage
Bay, Newfoundland, in June, 1903, when he came up to a huge cow
humpback and her calf. After getting “fast” to the mother and seeing
that she was exhausted, Captain Nilsen gave the order to lower the
“pram” for the purpose of lancing. Every time the mate endeavored to
lance the calf intervened, and by holding its tail toward the boat and
smashing it down whenever they approached, kept the stabber at bay for
half an hour. Finally the boat had to be recalled for fear of an
accident, and a fresh bomb harpoon was fired into the mother, causing
instant death. The faithful calf now came and lay alongside the body
of its dead mother, where it was badly lanced but not killed. Owing to
its position it was found impossible to kill it, so another bomb
harpoon was fired into it. Even this did not complete the tragedy and
it required another lance stroke to finish the gallant little
whale.[3]
Footnote 3:
“The Mammals of Great Britain and Ireland.” By J. G. Millais.
Longmans, Green, & Co., p. 238.
Captain H. G. Melsom tells me that in Iceland a female humpback was
killed, and her calf would not leave the ship which was towing its dead
mother but followed the vessel until it was close to the station.
Humpbacks have a bad reputation among the Norwegians and it is seldom
that a boat is sent out to lance a whale of this species. The gunners
say that there is too much danger in the flukes and long flippers and
that sad experience has given them a wholesome respect. Usually, if the
animal is too “sick” to require a second harpoon it will be drawn close
up beside the ship and lanced from the bow.
From personal experience I have only negative evidence to offer as to
the fighting qualities of this whale for, although I have seen a great
many killed, never did one give much trouble. They certainly cannot drag
a vessel as a blue whale or finback will, and apparently do not like to
pull very hard against the iron. I have seen humpbacks, which were being
drawn in for the second shot, squirm and give way each time the rope was
pulled taut. I do not pretend to deny, however, the widespread and
probably well-founded belief in the danger of coming to close quarters
with this whale and will again quote Millais in regard to this:
[Illustration:
Pulling the barnacles off a humpback whale. This species is infested
with parasites, which fasten in clusters to the throat, head, fins
and flukes.
]
Humpbacks sometimes give trouble when struck too high in the body or
only slightly wounded, and several serious accidents have occurred
both to steamers and to the men in the small “prams” when trying to
lance the wounded whale. The following authentic instances have been
given to me by Norwegian captains:
In May, 1903, the whaling steamer _Minerva_, under Captain John
Petersen, hunting from the station in Isafjord, made up to and struck
a bull Humpback. The beast was wild, so they fired two harpoons into
it, both of which were well placed. In the dim light the captain and
two men went off in the “pram” to lance the wounded Whale, when the
latter suddenly smashed its tail downwards, breaking the boat to
pieces, killing the captain and one man, and breaking the leg of the
other. The last-named was, however, rescued, clinging to some spars.
A most curious accident happened on the coast of Finmark about ten
years ago. A steamer had just got fast to a Humpback, which, in one of
its mad rushes, broke through the side of the vessel at the coal
bunkers, thus allowing a great inrush of water which put out the fires
and sank the ship in three minutes. The crew had just time to float
the boats, and was rescued by another whaler some hours later.
Owing to its sudden rushes and free use of tail and pectorals the
Humpback is more feared by the Norwegian whalemen than any other
species, although fewer casualties occur than in the chase of the
Bottlenose. It is not to be wondered at when you ask a Scandinavian
about the dangerous incidents of his calling he will invariably
answer, “I not like to stab de Humpback; no, no, no!” The Humpback
generally sinks when killed, and is a difficult Whale to raise.[4]
Footnote 4:
“The Mammals of Great Britain and Ireland.” By J. G. Millais.
Longmans, Green, & Co., pp. 241–242.
Reliable data upon the breeding habits of all large whales are obviously
difficult to secure and, except in the case of the California gray
whale, it is impossible to state with certainty many facts upon this
subject. Probably the period of gestation in the humpback is about one
year and the calves are from fourteen to sixteen feet long when born. On
June 16, 1908, at Sechart, a young humpback was killed with its mother.
The calf had nothing but milk in its stomach and milk was flowing from
both teats of the parent. I estimated that this baby humpback was about
three months old and since birth had probably almost doubled its length.
[Illustration:
A humpback partly in the water at the station in North Japan. The
whale is lying on its side with the breast and flipper showing.
]
Although all the fin whales probably mate chiefly in the early spring,
nevertheless pairing is deferred until later in the year among some
individuals, as fœtal specimens show. Pregnant females always have very
thick, fat blubber and yield a large amount of oil. Except in very rare
cases all the large whales have but one young at a birth and although
several instances of humpback twins have been recorded it is certainly
very unusual.
How long the calf lives upon milk is problematical, but it can hardly be
more than six months. The rate of growth of large whales is so
exceedingly rapid that the calf would undoubtedly be able to care for
itself very soon after birth.
The two teats of all cetaceans are concealed in slits on either side of
the genital opening. In a humpback whale each teat is the thickness of a
man’s thumb and two inches long. In the female humpback taken at Sechart
with the nursing calf, the milk glands under the blubber had become
greatly enlarged and were like an elongated oval in shape; they were 4
feet 6 inches long, 42 inches wide at the lower, and 9 inches at the
upper, end.
By suddenly pressing the surrounding muscles the milk could be ejected 2
or 3 feet in a fair sized stream and it is in this way that the calf
probably receives it. The young whale’s mouth is so constructed that it
is impossible for the animal to suck, in the ordinary sense of the word,
and the teat is much too short, even when protruded two or three inches,
to be held between the thick, rounded lips. When the milk is ejected
into the calf’s mouth apparently considerable sea water must go with it
unless the mother lifts that portion of her body out of the water while
the baby is nursing, which is probably the case.
The milk itself looks exactly like cow’s cream. I once drew out about a
gallon from a humpback and tasted it. It was very disagreeable, but I
imagine that little of the original flavor was left, for the whale had
been killed about fourteen hours before and the milk had not only soured
but was also permeated with the gases of decomposition. I am quite sure
that if fresh the milk would not be at all bad, and stories are told
(which, however, I have never substantiated and greatly doubt) that when
at sea the Norwegians sometimes use on the table milk from a freshly
killed whale.
A remarkable account of whale milking was published in a New York
newspaper and had such a wide circulation that the facts may be of
interest. It seems that a reporter was sent to interview Dr. F. A.
Lucas, who had recently been at Newfoundland to secure a blue whale’s
skeleton for the United States National Museum, and during the
conversation Dr. Lucas jokingly remarked that it would be a fine idea to
entice two or three whales into a narrow bay, bar the entrance with
posts, and anchor a carcass inside. This would attract great numbers of
small crustaceans and give food for the captive whales. The animals
might then be trained to come to a wharf morning and evening and submit
to being milked. Thus the problem of “the high cost of milk” for an
entire village might easily be solved.
[Illustration:
The result of a single day’s hunt. Five humpback whales at Sechart,
Vancouver Island.
]
The reporter was certain that this would fill his editor’s idea of a
whale story, but when writing it neglected to state that his data were
purely imaginary. The story was copied in papers throughout America and
for months afterward I was deluged with letters asking who the
successful whale trainer might be.