MODERN WHALERS AND THEIR METHODS
The days when the three-masted barque or ship roamed round the
world pursuing the whale from ocean to ocean are as definitely past
and gone as are the types of whalers and their methods. To-day the
vessels are steel-built and steam-driven, and they are spoken of as
“whale-catchers.” So, too, the explosive harpoon has done away with the
need of boat-work and hand-harpoons.
Unquestionably much of the romance, such as we used to read of in the
nineteenth-century novels, has disappeared also. That is inevitable,
for the twentieth century is an age of strenuous action rather than
of sentiment. It is carry on or get out: beauty and imagination, or
the method of doing things, cannot demand the same attention as the
achievement itself. The merchant who at heart really loves the sight
of a sailing-ship cannot afford to send his goods overseas except in a
mechanically propelled vessel, however much his sense of beauty prompts
and tempts him. In the same way whaling efficiency has little or no use
for any except those splendid small steamers, with their harpoon-gun at
the bows and well-organized factories at the shore base, on which the
ship depends for her coal and stores, and the company relies for the
preparation of the whale produce.
Before the Great War the standardized steam whale-catcher measured
anything from 98 ft. to 115 ft. over all, with 18 to 22 ft. beam and
moulded depth of 11 ft. to 12 ft. 9 in. She was flush-decked, cut
away at bow and stern for reasons of extreme handiness, with a speed
of 11 to 12 knots; whereas in the old sailing days they were slow,
and varied from 150 to about 450 tons. To-day the whale-catcher has
evolved into a vessel of from 150 to 180 tons, of a type that shows
a kind of amalgamation of the steam trawler and the ocean-going tug.
For extreme handiness and exceptional seaworthiness combined, these
little steamers are unrivalled. And when you consider that they have
to steam from Northern Europe, down the North Sea and Atlantic, cross
the Equator, wrestle with those heavy gales and the treacherous ice
near the Antarctic Circle, chasing the cetacean past unsurveyed coasts,
and entering harbours barely safe from wind and ice, surely as much is
asked of a ship as ever a man could have the heart.
If we select an average post-war type we may take a whale-catcher of
105 ft. long, 20 ft. beam and 12 ft. depth, fitted with three-cylinder
engines, having a boiler pressure of 200 lb. to the square inch. The
average speed is up to 15 knots: but inasmuch as this is inferior to
the speed at which a whale can travel, the cetacean is hunted only when
feeding. To give greater engine power than this would be too costly in
regard to that very expensive item of coal in South Georgia; and would
mean a bigger ship. Neither is desirable. The engines are placed aft,
where the ship draws 12 ft., the draught forward being about 9 ft. And
in order to make her more handy still, each vessel is fitted with a
centre rudder. Abaft the foremast is a powerful winch, which is most
essential in these craft. It may be mentioned here that the whale being
moderately sensitive to sound, motor-boats are useless for this work.
They were tried, but made too much noise.
The catcher has a fine, healthy sheer forward, with a nice flare. The
rounded forefoot is rather that of a sailing yacht than a steamship,
but everything about her suggests strength and wholesomeness. At the
same time these are really pretty eye-pleasing craft. Mounted right
forward is the muzzle-loading harpoon-gun, on a swivel; and so nicely
balanced that when loaded with charge and harpoon it can be raised
and trained readily. The bore is 3 in., the gun being 45 in. long. On
the extreme end of the foredeck, below the gun, is a pair of stout
rollers over which the harpoon lines are run. The harpoon itself is
of the finest tempered Swedish steel, 6 ft. in length and of over a
hundredweight. This harpoon, unlike the old-fashioned type, has four
prongs, which spring out to an angle of forty-five degrees when the
line tightens after the harpoon has struck inside the whale’s body.
Now at the point of the modern harpoon is a conical bomb over a foot
long and filled with gunpowder. A time fuse fires this bomb three
seconds after the harpoon has left the muzzle of the gun. Attached to
the harpoon come sixty fathoms of the finest Italian hemp, which every
seafarer admires for its handiness and disinclination to kink even
with the wet. This foregoer is of about 4-in. stuff, and lies ready
coiled on a platform close to the gun. When the gunner gets his chance
one shot should finish the whale, but it may happen that two or three
harpoons are necessary. This foregoer--or “foreganger” as the old term
used to be--is secured to the harpoon’s shank by means of a ring,
whilst the other end of the rope is spliced to a 5-in. whale line of
120 fathoms; but of course this may be lengthened by bending on other
lines.
At the top of the foremast is the crow’s-nest, which is entered by
climbing the rigging; this steel mast being of a more substantial
kind than is customary in tugs and trawlers. The look-out man having
indicated the whale, or a school of whales, everything on the part
of the steersman and engine department is done so that speed and
manœuvring will enable the gunner to hit the whale just as the latter
is rising after his submersion. On the other hand, the whale may not
oblige by emerging just ahead: he may be on the ship’s beam, or even
astern. It is for this reason that the extreme handiness was given to
the ship’s design, so that she can swing round quickly and find her
target in the position required. The usual range is only 25 yds., and
the gun’s charge is about 14 oz. of powder.
If the whale has been rightly struck in a vulnerable part, he should
die immediately, and will begin to sink. That powerful steam winch,
placed between bridge and foremast, now comes into use. So soon as the
sinking whale has caused the line to hang straight down it is passed
to the snatch-blocks which are above the shrouds of the foremast,
and so the line comes to the winch. As the winch revolves, the ship
and whale are mutually drawn, but there is now a risk that with the
rolling of heavy whale and heavy steel ship in the Antarctic swell
the line may suddenly part. In order to prevent such an occurrence,
there is a special arrangement of powerful volute springs (called an
“accumulator”) which is fitted in the bottom of the ship along the
keelson from the collision bulkhead forward right away to the stokehold
aft.
These steel springs are in double rows and connected by flexible wire
ropes to those two snatch-blocks, one of which is on either side of
the mast. Thus, now that the securing tackle has been led to the
accumulator by way of those masthead blocks, any sudden jerk on the
rope is borne by the spiral springs. In other words, the rise and
fall are compensated for. But there are occasions when the whale has
not been shot dead, and then enters the skill of the gunner, who has
to display the ability of the angler. The steam winch has to be moved
very carefully, as an angler winds in his reel; and the engine-room
staff below must see that the propeller goes ahead or astern in quick
obedience to the telegraph: for this is the most critical time of the
proceedings.
The whale being now dead, and the winch having hauled him to the
surface of the sea, a chain is passed round the cetacean’s tail and
made fast to the towing bits, the foregoer is taken from the harpoon,
and the whale is ready to be towed alongside the ship tail foremost.
But, in order to prevent the carcase from sinking, a hole is pierced
in it and a hollow harpoon or tube is inserted. Through this tube
the whale is pumped full of air, this air pipe leading down to a
steam-driven compressor in the engine-room. It is rather like inflating
an enormous Rugby football. Afterwards the air tube is withdrawn and
the harpoon shanks unscrewed, the heads being recovered later on.
The whaler may now return to her base, perhaps with several whales
towing alongside: sometimes with as many as ten. These craft have a
very strenuous life during that short season and rest only on Sundays.
Having coaled and provisioned, they spend the remainder of the time at
work, the crew being in watches as in any other ship: but the moment
a whale is sighted every deck hand rushes up, so that in practice the
hands can rarely obtain four consecutive hours of sleep, and more
frequently they never take their clothes off for twenty-four whole
hours. The first real rest for captain and crew comes only after
several whales are being towed back and it is impossible to go after
any more for the present. Then, and not till then, is it possible
for human nature to catch up with delayed sleep. On the other hand,
what with their monthly wage and big bonus, and being away from Norway
only from September to June, the men stick it out as something quite
worth while. Whale-meat is eaten by the men with relish, and has been
compared with the best veal; but it does not keep and must be cut from
the cetacean as soon as he is killed.
These little whale-catchers are kept beautifully clean and comfortably
fitted up; and I wonder sometimes that those who care to do their
yachting with steam power do not build one of this type instead of
some rather useless vessels that one sees round the coast. For these
catchers are both good-looking and able to go anywhere in any weather;
but you cannot say all this of most steam yachts. A heavy sea is
preferred by the catcher whilst hunting, for the whale’s body shows
itself more conspicuously and thus affords a better target. But up and
down the lonely coast of South Georgia and islands of that cold sea,
skirting the rocks and keeping a smart eye lifting all the time for the
spouting vapour which will indicate the distant whale, hour after hour,
watch after watch may pass before any luck comes along. For the animal
has the sense to be wary, after the loss of so many relatives. Close
on ten thousand whales captured yearly in the waters of the Falklands
Dependencies cannot be ignored if we think of the future, although
it has not yet been proved that whaling in these waters will become
exhausted as has been the case in other parts of the globe.
Again and again the whale escapes before the gunner can get a fair
opportunity, but at last the animal may be sighted sailing along
unsuspectingly. It is then for the catcher to be manœuvred cautiously
and adroitly so as to work into the required position. And now goes
the harpoon-gun! The blue whale has been hit, the foam is being cast
up all around him, and he disappears with remarkable suddenness, but
a prisoner all the same. Out goes the line more quickly than rushing
thought, the windlass is about to haul it in again, but suddenly the
tension ends: the harpoon has broken off, and the whale has been
lost--dead, but sinking to the bottom until three days shall have
passed. These animals love to haunt the vicinity of ice-masses:
and in a season when the bergs are few, the hunting may be poor. A
whale’s period of gestation is about a year, and the persistence with
which these southern whales are now being hunted gives no time for
the stock to be increased. And it has been found that, having become
knowledgeable, they now alter their former cruising areas and take
different routes through other straits and round other islands.
In spite of the cold and hard gales, the climate in the seas of
the Falklands Dependencies is very healthy, but the lack of fresh
provisions is regrettable. At South Georgia, where there are shore
factories for dealing with the whales, there is a population of 1,337
human beings, of whom all are males, except for three: and at least
1,000 of the community are natives of Norway and Sweden. Here, too,
are the workshops and stores, special transport ships bringing to the
island provisions, stores and coal, and taking back the oil which has
been extracted from the whales that the fleet of catchers bring. For
these modern hunters are not fitted with reducing plant and merely tow
the carcases to be handed over either to the floating factory or to the
shore station. At South Georgia, for example, the reducing is carried
on chiefly at shore stations: but at the South Shetlands there is only
one site in Deception Harbour, so floating factories become essential.
The floating factories consist of the hulls of old steamers and
sailing-ships; or, more recently, they are converted steamships fitted
up with all the latest plant. These vessels are moored in convenient,
sheltered harbours, the carcases being brought alongside. There is on
board extensive deck machinery, with great derricks capable of lifting
50-ton weights. Forward is the blubber factory, with the flensing deck
erected above the main deck. In these up-to-date floating factories
elevators, driven by independent steam-engines, are employed for
feeding the blubber to the blubber vats, the latter being placed on
each side of the ship. In the holds are the oil-tanks, fitted up in
much the same way as in an oil-carrying ship, but before the whale oil
finally gets down there it has to pass through clearing, skimming and
refuse tanks.
At the after end of the ship is the flesh and bone factory. Here an
additional wooden deck has been built up, the whale flesh passing
direct into the boilers through openings on deck. The whale being
brought alongside this floating factory, it is secured at the fore end
of the latter, and the flensers then proceed to strip off the blubber,
which is lifted on board by the derricks to the flensing deck in strips
about 50 ft. in length, 4 ft. wide, and over 1 ft. in thickness. After
the blubber has been stripped from one side, the carcase is turned over
by special winches, so that the other side can be dealt with.
The blubber is on this flensing deck cut into short lengths and passed
down the shoots, where it is sliced by revolving hack knives; and
thence it is taken up by the elevators and dropped into other shoots,
and so into the blubber vats, into which steam is turned for several
hours whilst the oil is being extracted. Steam is then shut off,
and for about half an hour the whole mass is stirred. More steaming
follows, and then the contents are allowed to settle, the water is
drawn off from the bottom, the oil is strained and tapped, and finally
reaches the cargo tanks below.
When the blubber has been stripped off the whale, the carcase is
removed to the after part of the ship, where the head and tail are cut
off, as well as the sides, backbone and other portions likely to yield
oil. Steam-driven saws cut the pieces into convenient size and the oil
is extracted in the boilers by steam. These floating factories, of
course, vary in size, but an average one can deal with as many as nine
blue whales a day of the big kind, or sixteen of the smaller types. All
this shows how systematized the operation has now become in comparison
with the flensing carried on during those days when the sailing whaler
was self-contained and independent of a base. There can be no sort of
doubt that the modern method is far more efficient on the principle of
subdivision of labour. The catchers are free to confine their attention
to hunting and killing: the factories are ready to do the rest when
once the whale has been towed alongside. Thus, in a season, one of
these factory ships may deal with as many as six hundred whales.
Bluntly stated, it would seem as if by this wholesale process of
meticulous organization and ingenious machinery the entire operation
was impossible of romance. And yet I can see that this is not so. We
can leave out that long voyage to the Antarctic and back where these
factory steamships lie cut off from the rest of the world for months.
But is there not something more than interesting in the arrangements
which make such a vessel independent for a long while? She is not
merely a factory, but a depot ship to the catchers, and able to meet
any contingency, repair their hulls, engines and auxiliaries, in
addition to being able to do the same for her own mass of machinery.
She carries a complete engineering shop with lathes and drilling
machines, a blacksmith’s shop with its forges, and a carpenter’s shop
also.
A hundred and fifty men have to be accommodated, and fed for eight
months straight on end. This vessel has to pass through the tropics
to a region of great cold: so there are problems of ventilation and
heating: nor are these the only ones. Coal and water? Well, the
bunkers, tanks, ’tween decks, and indeed every available space must be
filled up with fuel on setting forth, for this coal has to cover the
following items: the factory ship’s long voyage out, the running of
the numerous auxiliaries for several months as if she were some works
ashore, the supplying of bunker fuel to the whale-catchers, which each
consume six tons a day, and on the top of all this there must be enough
coal left for the factory steamer herself to get back home.
As to the matter of water, this is a real difficulty; for a floating
factory consumes about eighty tons a day. On the other hand her
distillers and evaporators produce, if needs be, a hundred tons of
water daily. But this, again, means the expenditure of much valuable
coal. For this purpose the ship carries a number of specially
constructed boats suitable for conveying water. These boats are towed
by motor-boat to the shore, the water is collected from the melting
snow and ice, taken back to the ship and transferred by pumps to the
vessel’s fresh-water tanks. This sounds delightfully simple and easy:
but those whose job it is to go water-searching on an icebound island
amidst glaciers and frozen hummocks will tell you that it is both
arduous and even exciting. It is therefore perhaps more accurate to
say that modern whaling methods have a romance of their own, different
in kind from that of the old three-masted ships and barques with
their own crew who did the flensing; yet, when we come down to plain
thinking, is it not the case that distance of time is the real cause of
any activity seeming romantic? We speak to-day almost with reverence
of life in the old East Indiamen, and even in the clipper ships. It
is only because they have gone that we so regard them. Contemporary
seamen thought otherwise. And in another hundred years it may be that
some people will read into Antarctic steam whalers a great deal of
attraction that those of our own time cannot perceive. Well, why not?
Can you admire the outside of a beautiful Gothic cathedral if you stand
with your nose close alongside a flying buttress?