The Whale Catcher

Aboard a whale catcher. *Source: Eric Stevenson*

Built for the chase

Depicted most famously in Herman Melville’s Moby Dick, traditional whaling was with handheld harpoons, thrown from wooden, oar-powered whaleboats. In South Georgia, modern industrial whaling was quite different.

Whale catching was a highly skilled, dangerous and difficult occupation. Fifty whale catchers are known to have been lost in service world-wide during the twentieth century, mainly in the Antarctic.

Whale catcher dropping whales. *Source: John Alexander*

Anatomy of a Whale Catcher

Developed during the steam age, whale catcher ships were small and fast enough to chase and catch rorquals. Driven by diesel engines in the twentieth century, they included an explosive harpoon gun mounted at its bow.

Purpose built whale catchers had special features designed for the job. Most notable are the raised bow, which protected the gunner from spray, and the flying walkway, which the gunner used to reach the harpoon gun at the front of the ship.

As well as purpose-built ships, Allied naval corvettes were converted to whale catchers after WWII.

"The whale catchers were tied alongside each other, moored to the quay, and seemed surprisingly small. Probably around four hundred tons each. There was no doubting their function as the mounted guns, and look out barrels on the foremasts, were a dead giveaway. The funnels were painted in the distinctive red white and blue Salvesen colours. The accommodation was situated in the open fo’c’s’le, directly underneath the gun platform and was rather cramped and stuffy”
George Moar, Deck Mess Boy, Southern Venturer, 1947

Climbing up to the crow's nest or barrel. *Source: Eric Stevenson*

Catching whales

Catcher men had a tough job. Sailing in all weathers, whale catchers would leave the shore station harbour at 5am and return around midnight. If working as part of a catcher team with a factory ship, the men worked around the clock.

Finding whales relied on the lookout in the crow’s nest, keeping his eyes open for whale spouts breaking the waves. Possibly the coldest job on ship.

"We sailed at first light, about 4.30 am when a sailor would go up into the 'barrel' to look out for whales [...] With the cry 'arr sett blost' a double ring to full speed on the telegraph from the bridge to engine room and the throttle was openned fully to 16 knotts, this was known as 'go on' speed.

When the ship closed on the target the gunner would leave the bridge and go to the bow and signal by hand to steer port or starboard and regulate the ships speed by a bow telegraph until he was close enough to make a quick kill with the harpoon gun, as the whale surfaced to blow [...] A chase could take anything from 15 minutes to 3 or 4 hours"
Arthur Dinsdale, Engineer, 1947

Whale catcher Petrel on the chase

Loading the harpoon. *Source: Nigel Bonner*

Jobs onboard

The most prestigious position at the whaling stations were the whale harpooners, known as the gunner or ‘hvalskytter’ (whale shooters). These men were often the highest paid. The gunner’s success rate was important – the more whales shot, the better the bonus for the whole crew. Gunners were almost always Norwegian. In areas of Norway, being a gunner was a family tradition and a very respected job.

The 1st and 2nd Mate were in charge of things on the ship, while the rest of those on board kept the ship running, the crew fed, and in contact with the factory ships or shore stations. The Able seamen (AB’s) worked a four-hour shift. An hour in the barrel (the crow’s nest), an hour at the wheel, an hour in the barrel and another hour at the wheel.

"Most of the crew were Norwegian but we had no problem in communication. The second mate, who spoke fluent English, volunteered to teach me ten Norwegian words a day and more or less did so, though some of them could not be found in the dictionary”
George Moar, Deck Mess Boy, Southern Venturer, 1947

“Sometimes fishing became impossible if the weather deteriorated. In which case there were three choices. One was to shelter in the lee of a large iceberg, two was to head deep into the ice pack. If these options weren’t available the third was to heave to into the wind and to resort to dodging the oncoming seas. This could be uncomfortable“
George Moar, Deck Mess Boy, Southern Venturer, 1947

“We had to fit radars on most of the catchers, which meant building a circular tube as high as they could get, just behind the bridge where there was a watertight door. You could just about get inside and operate the radar. We were on call 24 hours a day. If anything went wrong, you had to fix it. There was no messing about”
Geoffrey Smethurst , Radio Operator, 1947

Marconi Lodestone MkIV direction finder. An example used at Leith Harbour whaling station. *Source: Shetland ex-Whalers Association*

Radio and radar

Radio allowed communication between whale catchers and the factory ships or shore whaling stations. Catchers would report their catch and position four times a day so preparations could be made for their return with the catch. The downside to this was that competitors were also able to find out what a ship had caught, and where they had caught it. After WWII, radar was introduced to whaling. This allowed detection of other ships and icebergs up to 10 miles away, meaning that catchers could go out even in heavy fog.

The other use of radar was in finding “flagged” whales. These were whales which had been caught, killed and then set adrift, allowing the catcher to continue hunting. The shot whale was inflated with compressed air, so that it floated, and attached to a radio beacon, radar reflector and light. A company flag identified whom the whale belonged to. Whales were left floating this way until a catching shift was over, then collected and towed back to the whaling station.

“When you spotted a blow you shouted to the helmsman on the open bridge indicating the direction of the whale. When you neared the prey the gunner appeared and walked down the catwalk to the gun platform where he continued to give hand signals to the helmsman who was in contact with the engine room to control the speed.

On such occasions there was much excited shouting, with Norwegian expletives, until the chase was complete. Then it was the turn of the chief engineer to play his part. He manned the huge winch to reel the, hopefully, dead catch in. He kept an eye on the foremast blocks to judge the strain on the lines until the whale was safely alongside and secured with the tail facing forward”
George Moar, Deck Mess Boy, Southern Venturer, 1947

“As the season came to a close it became much colder. The sea began to freeze forming pancakes of ice combined with a strong southerly wind. While we lay dodging, the seas breaking over the bows immediately froze caking the deck, mast and wheelhouse with layers of ever thickening ice, Eventually the ship would become top heavy and in a real danger of capsizing if action was not taken. So it was all hands on deck and an ice chipping operation began with sledge hammers and shovels as the main weapons”
George Moar, Deck Mess Boy, Southern Venturer, 1947

“To me the good times greatly out numbered the bad ones but I don’t know if this was shared by everyone. The big minus was the wholesale slaughter which, we were part off, and still niggles. Another one was the discomfort of being continually wet. Oilskins and clothes never dried out and the smell was unpleasant. To make matters worse, on a few occasions when the turtleback hatch was left open, a breaking sea would crash over the bow, hit the foot of the mast, and rebound into the sleeping quarters. You would wake up to see your sea boots and cartons of Lucky Strike swishing about in a foot of sea water”
George Moar, Deck Mess Boy, Southern Venturer, 1947