THE BLACKFISH
The blackfish, the most gregarious and one of the largest members of the
porpoise family, is sometimes called the “pilot whale” because it
blindly follows a leader and the herds can be driven almost like a flock
of sheep.
Several species have been recognized in different oceans of the world,
but the most common and widely distributed is the one called by
naturalists _Globicephalus melas_, which occurs in great schools on both
sides of the North Atlantic.
It is perhaps most abundant about the Faroe Islands north of Scotland,
where the natives take advantage of its follow-the-leader habit and
drive the herds into narrow fjords to be slaughtered by the hundreds and
used for oil and food. These blackfish hunts of the Faroes are famous
and lend a welcome touch of romance and picturesqueness to the
present-day whaling which contains so little of the old-time glamour.
When a school of _grind_, as they are called by the Faroe men, is
sighted, word is telephoned along the coast, and whether it is night or
day, boats begin to assemble to surround the porpoises. The herd is
slowly and quietly driven toward the mouth of the fjord which has been
selected by the first boats on the scene—preferably a fjord with shallow
water at the head—and as reinforcements arrive the men are arranged in
definite formation by the director of the hunt.
The progress of the herd is very slow at first, about a mile an hour,
but when once well within the fjord itself the boat crews close in,
begin to beat the water vigorously with their oars, and to throw stones
among the most backward of the school.
Perhaps the porpoises may suddenly turn and break for the open sea, and
then follows a race by the outlying boats to cut them off. Instead of
diving or rushing the boats which block their way, the guileless _grind_
turn about tumultuously and once more race up the fjord. When the school
is thoroughly scared, they break away again and again with a mad dash,
only to be turned back by the encircling boats, until they reach the
shallow water at the end of the fjord and rush far up toward the
shelving shore.
As soon as they begin floundering about at the water’s edge,, a little
crowd of fishermen who have been hiding behind the rocks, dash into the
water and grasping the stranded whales by the fins plunge sharp knives
into the necks of the struggling brutes.
Meanwhile in slightly deeper water the boatmen are spearing the
porpoises not already stranded. Everywhere there is an atmosphere of
carnage; the air itself becomes infected with the odor of blood. In the
fjord, now stained crimson, there is a confused mass of boats and
blood-splashed men wading fearlessly among the floundering whales. Some
of these make mad rushes for shore, scattering groups of men bending
over the stranded _grind_; others in their last agonies dive on the
muddy bottom and, half out of water, beat the air with their great
tails. The hunt may last for hours, for some of the boats chase the
stragglers even out to the open sea.
[Illustration:
A school of “blackfish” at Cape Cod. These animals often work their
way into shallow water, where they are stranded by the receding
tide.
]
[Illustration:
A Pacific blackfish (_Globicephalus scammoni_). This species has no
white on the under parts.
]
When the carnage has ended and the receding tide has left the _grind_
high and dry upon the beach, the sheriff and his assistants count and
measure the animals preparatory to allotment. Every porpoise has its
special number cut into the thick blubber which covers its cylindrical
head. The largest whale is given to the native who first sighted the
school. One-tenth of the rest is put aside for the sheriff’s fee, taxes,
and expenses; of the remainder a large proportion is allotted to the
villagers living on the borders of the fjord where the kill takes place,
every woman and child having a share. The total value of a catch of five
or six hundred may be over $12,000.
The morning following the hunt the cutting in begins, each crew or group
of villages taking, without bickering or protestation, the whales
apportioned to them by the sheriff. After the blubber has been removed,
the meat is carefully cut away from the skeleton, piled in neat heaps,
and carried away by the women in wooden creels to their homes. All that
remains to mark the scene of carnage is the white skeletons bleaching in
the sun.
But blackfish are not of use to the Faroe Islanders alone, for wherever
one of the old-time whaling vessels cruises for sperm whales, the green
crews and gear are tried out if a school is found. And throughout the
voyage when whales are scarce, few of the vessels are above “lowering”
for a herd of these huge porpoises.
The common blackfish of the North Atlantic is without a trace of color
above, but has a narrow line of white on the breast and belly, which
widens into a fountain-jet shape on the throat. The species found on the
American Atlantic coast south of New York (_G. brachypterus_) is black
everywhere upon its body, like the blackfish of the Pacific (_G.
scammoni_). Twenty-four feet seems to be about the maximum size of this
porpoise, which in the entire family is exceeded in length only by the
killer whale.