The following notes from my diary were made when, as guest of Mr. Haldane,
I shared in the chase of the Finback in August 1904:
‘ After a day of fruitless battling with the wind and sea, we lay up in Balta
Sound, Unst, for the night. At midday the wind went down, and the captain
and mate, who had gone to the summit of a mountain to spy, were seen running
at full speed for the boat. Steam was up and the anchor weighed as soon as
their feet touched the deck, and we ran out for a mile eastward, where we found
a large bull and cow Finner. Several times a shot seemed imminent, but the
Whales went down. After two hours’ pursuit the captain decided that these
Whales were too “ wild,” so we stood out to the north, encountering several herds
of Pilot Whales and three Lesser Rorqual, the first I had seen. About six o’clock
in the evening we fell in with the fringe of the main herd of the Finback, which
were spouting in all directions. We pursued Whale after Whale, but all seemed
wild except one monster, which refused to leave the side of the vessel, and, in
consequence, could not be shot at.1 At last the mate got a shot at 7 p .m ., and
missed. He was much crestfallen, and retired to the galley to enjoy the healing
balm of coffee and potatoes. At 7.30 it was bitterly coldr when Captain Stokken
again stood beside the gun, and we were in full pursuit of a large female
Finback that seemed tamer than the rest. Eventually, in its final “ roll,” the
Whale raised itself about ten yards from the gun, and the whaler, tipping the
muzzle downwards, fired and struck the quarry under the backbone.
* At first the Finback was rather quiet, and then it began to run, the strong
line rushing out at a speed of about fifteen knots. When some two miles of rope
had. gone over the bow I turned to Captain Stokken and said, “ How much line
have you got ? ”
‘ “ About three mile,” was the curt reply.
‘ “ But when that three mile goes; what then?”
‘ “ Oh, well,” was the imperturbable answer, “ then I check line, and we see
which is strongest, Whale or rope. Perhaps harpoon draws out.”
‘ In the course of a minute the captain gave the order to check the line. The
strain now became terrific, the two-inch rope straining and groaning as if it would
burst. At the same moment the little steamer leaped forward and raced over the
seas at about twelve miles an hour. There was a feeling of intense exhilaration
as we rushed northwards, the spray flying from our bows as the ship leapt from
crest to crest in the heavy swell. I have enjoyed the rushes of gallant thirty and
1 The movements of this Whale ‘ on feed ’ I have already described.
HUNTING THE RORQUAL.
From photographs by the Author and C. Rock.