CHAPTER V
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.
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]
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.
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]
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:
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]
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.
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.
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.