CHAPTER III
AN EXCITING EXPERIENCE IN ALASKA
After leaving Vancouver Island I had gone north to Murderer’s Cove, Tyee, Alaska, and was being most hospitably entertained on board Captain Charles Grahame’s ship, the Tyee. We were hunting in the waters of Frederick Sound and had been out two days. A big finback had given us an exciting time of it in the afternoon and evening of the second day and I had gone to bed tired out.
Next morning at five o’clock I was awakened by a hand on my shoulder and the voice of the Mate saying:
“We’re in a bunch of humpbacks, sir. You’d better get up if you want some pictures.”
As I had only removed my coat and shoes the night before, in five minutes I was on deck with my camera and plate holders. It was a gray day, heavy clouds lining the sky and a strong wind blowing from the westward. Already the little steamer was pitching and rolling in a way which made me hate even the thought of breakfast, but catching sight of the flukes of a big humpback just disappearing below the surface on the starboard side, I forgot for a moment that there was such a thing as seasickness. I climbed to the bridge beside the Mate who was at the wheel and after getting the camera ready for instant use, took out my notebook and glasses.
The whales were all about us but feed was evidently scarce and far below the surface, for the animals were swimming long distances under water, only rising to blow at irregular intervals. For three hours we kept up a fruitless chase after first one and then another of the humpbacks, once or twice getting so close that a shot seemed imminent. At last the Captain, who had come on deck, said:
“The flukes of a big humpback just disappearing below the surface on the starboard side.”
“It’s no use to bother with these fellows; there is no feed and we may stay here all day without killing; we’ll go over toward Fanshaw, and see if we can’t find another bunch.”
Two hours of steaming brought us in sight of Storm Island and far over near the shore we could see several spouts. Now and then flukes would show as one of the animals went down, indicating to my satisfaction that some, at least, were humpbacks. When we neared the whales I left the bridge, making my way forward along the deck to the harpoon-gun, and with camera ready braced myself against a rope. The steamer was pitching furiously and it was all I could do to keep my feet, but clinging to a line with one hand and shielding the lens of my camera with the other, I awaited the reappearance of a whale that had gone down on the starboard side.
Suddenly the gunner shouted, “There he comes!” and pointed over the bow where the water was beginning to smooth out in a large, green patch about thirty fathoms away.
Before I could focus my camera, the whale had burst into view, sending his spout fifteen feet into the air. Evidently he saw us for he was down again in a second, only to reappear several fathoms astern. Time after time he showed himself, never near enough for a shot but keeping me busy exposing plates.
After about an hour another humpback appeared beside him and together they seemed to be enjoying to the fullest extent the game of tag they were playing with us. Once the larger of the two threw himself clear out of the water, showing even the tips of his flukes, and fell back with a splash which sounded like the muffled clap of two great hands. Again he thrust his head into the air and, whirling about, I caught him with the camera just before he sank back out of sight.
“The captain swung the vessel’s nose into just the right position and they appeared close beside the starboard bow.”
For over an hour the game of tag continued, but once, when the whales had been down an unusually long time, the Captain swung the vessel’s nose into just the right position and they appeared close beside the starboard bow. The roar of the gun almost deafened me and instinctively I pressed the button of the camera, but a wave had thrown the steamer into the air at just the wrong time and the harpoon struck the surface several feet below the whale. Both animals went down churning the water into foam, and when next we saw them they were close together, far astern.
Although the chase had been an aggravation to the whalers, I had reaped a harvest of pictures and had exposed every plate in the holders. While Sorenson, the gunner, was reloading the gun, I descended into the hold, substituted fresh plates, and packed the others in the pasteboard boxes. My work was hastened by the sudden stopping and starting of the engines which proclaimed that another whale had been sighted and the chase already begun.
Pushing away the hatch which covered the entrance to the hold, I swung up the steep ladder to the deck above. Sure enough a big humpback was spouting only a short distance away, now and then rolling on his side and throwing his great black and white fin in the air.
“He’s feeding,” said Sorenson, as I stepped up beside him; “but he’s pretty wild. Perhaps we’ll kill this time.”
Back and forth for two hours we followed the animal, sometimes getting so close that when I saw him burst to the surface I held my breath, expecting to hear the roar of the gun beside me; but Sorenson, somewhat chagrined by his miss at the last whale, wished to be sure of this shot and would not take a chance. The Captain swung the boat in a long circle each time the animal disappeared and it seemed almost certain that we would at last be near when he came up. And so it happened, for when we had almost despaired of getting a shot the man in the barrel shouted, “He’s coming, right below us.”
“Scrambling up, I ... snapped the camera at the huge body partly hidden by the boat.”
Looking down into the water I could see the ghostly form of the whale rising to the surface with tremendous force just in front of the bow. There was no time to stop the ship and the animal burst from the water half under the vessel’s side. I started back, shielding my camera from the spout, and, stumbling over a pile of chains on the deck, slid almost to the forecastle companionway. Scrambling up, I jumped to the rail and snapped the camera at the huge body partly hidden by the boat.
The whale seemed dazed by his sudden appearance under the steamer, and rolling on his side, went down only a few feet, reappearing ten fathoms away. Sorenson, who had held to the gun, steadied himself, swung the muzzle about, and taking deliberate aim, planted the harpoon squarely behind the fin. It was a beautiful shot, and the whale went down without a struggle. The quiet which followed the deafening explosion was broken only by the soft swish of the line running out from the winch and the men going to their places. I was leaning against the side almost weak from the excitement of the last few minutes when Sorenson, a pleased grin on his sunburned face, turned and said, “I didn’t miss him that time, did I? He never moved after I fired.”
Four hours more of chasing first one and then another brought the vessel close to a humpback and again Sorenson sent the harpoon crashing into the lungs, killing at the first shot. As the day had been a tiring one and it was too dark to take pictures, I picked up my camera and climbed down the narrow companionway into the Captain’s cabin. After reloading the plate holders I lay down on the bunk listening to the rattling of chains and the tramp of feet on the deck above as the dead whale, with the other which had been picked up, was made fast to the bow of the vessel.
Bringing in a humpback at the end of the day’s hunt. The whale’s flukes weigh more than a ton.
The boat had started on the thirty-mile tow to the station and, gradually becoming accustomed to the rolling, I was lulled to sleep by the steady “chug, chug, chug” of the engines and the splashing of the water against the side.