Whaling in the Strait.

Warning: this article contains descriptions of processes that some people may find upsetting.

There was once a resident whale population in the Gibraltar Strait. Resident is perhaps stretching it a little as these were Atlantic Grey whales and Right whales, both of which migrate over considerable distances, travelling between their northern feeding grounds and their breeding areas. But in fact, the frequency of visitation by these animals was such that they were observable throughout the year… different animals but always some of them present.

 

                    Californian Grey whale and calf; animals extinct in the Atlantic since the late 1700s.

 The first record, by Roman naturalist Pliny the elder, was a description of killer-whales attacking cows and their calves in the Bay of Cadiz. Later historians were somewhat sniffy about Pliny’s report but recent evidence has emerged that supports Roman hunting of these whales in the Strait area. Amongst the various fish-salting and garum factories in the region, a number of 2000 year old whale bones have been found. Archaeologist Dr Ana Rodrigues and her team recovered samples from Baelo Claudia (Tarifa),  Lulia Traducta (Algeciras), Septem Fratres (Ceuta) and Tamuda (N. Morocco)  containing whale bones. They then identified three right whales and three grey whales, species now only resident in the N. Pacific (Grey Whales) and eastern continental shelf of N. America and Arctic waters (Right Whales) and virtually extinct elsewhere. Whilst the Romans lacked the technical hardware for open seas exploitation of this population, it now seems likely that they took whales from inshore calving areas, probably by open boat.

This, of course, begs the questions when and why did they disappear? I suspect you already know the answer; but let’s fill in the detail.

The N. Atlantic Grey whale, a baleen whale named for its overall colour was virtually eradicated in the early 18^th century. Similarly by 1700, the Right whale, named because it was the right one to catch, had become too rare to be of any economic importance. The Basques hunted from Biscay to Labrador, the British around Greenland to the Davis Strait and the Norwegians the N. Atlantic and Arctic Sea. In fact most European nations and the E. coast Americans took the business of whaling to the point where the resource all but disappeared.

From then on, they would have to go much further afield in search of prey. In New England, companies from Nantucket and New Bedford, prepared well-financed fleets that would campaign for three years at a time, hunting right around the world and capturing any whale that came their way.

Meanwhile, the Basques had recorded the decline of their fisheries: between 1637 and 1801, 55 whales were landed at Zarautz and between 1728 and 1789 just 12 whales at Guetaria. In May 1901 just one whale was landed at Orio, in what appeared to be the finale to Spanish whaling.  However, two Norwegian businessmen would make a last attempt at a whaling industry by founding the Spanish Whaling Company, with stations at Canelinas in Galicia and Getares in the Bay of Gibraltar.

Carlos Fredrik Herlofson and Lorentz Brunn along with Leslie Hamilton Wilson created La Compania Ballenera Espanola SA in June 1914 but the onset of the World War prevented operations until 1921. A fraction of the 1.9M pesetas share capital came from Spain, the rest being English and Norwegian. The Spanish natural mistrust of a foreigner led to initial difficulties which were overcome by inviting Alvaro Lopez de Carrizosa, the Count of Moral de Calatrava, to form an overseeing parent company and fill the board with his chums. Thus a typical Spanish joint venture was created; capital, administration and responsibility to the foreigners and a board full of Andalusian hidalgos with nothing to do but collect salaries.

There was also an unexpected difficulty with the UK. Britain was concerned that the large concrete flensing structure, built to relieve the whale of its flesh, could be used as an artillery platform, and had to remind Spain of its obligations under the Treaty of Utrecht. However, they received reassurances and withdrew the objection; clearly they were as soft then as they are now.

                           

                                                         The whaling station at Getares.

What Herlofson had recognised was that the Strait was a choke point in the migration of Fin and Sperm whales, from Atlantic to Mediterranean and thus an ideal base for his operation.  The first whale caught was on the 11^th of April 1921. It was around 24 metres long and weighed in at 50 tons. In that first year, they took 356 whales – 33 Sperm and 323 Fin – producing 10,500 barrels of oil. The venture had been based on the assumption that the oil would be marketed in Spain, but this proved difficult and the price of oil slumped; they ended the year with a slight deficit. The next season was much better, there were more whales than expected and the boat was able to operate throughout the year. In 1923, the station was expanded and a second whale catcher employed, resulting in 34,472 barrels of oil being produced. This figure of over 19K per boat is one of the highest ever achieved in one whaling ground, in one season. It had, however, decimated the stock.

                           

                                                   La Contessa del Moral de Calatrava.

The two steam whale catchers, La Condesa del Moral de Calatrava and the Pepita Maura, each around 50tons and capable of a sustained 1o knots, named “in honour of the wives of two of the most notable members of the board of directors” would go to the western part of the Strait. Since the whales only ventured a few miles into the interior of the Mediterranean, always following the strong entry current, in which they were submerged and then returned to the other side of the Strait near the surface, this was the best place to hunt.

The actual business of catching and killing a whale may seem gruesome to modern p.c. and thoroughly sanitised ears, but this is how it was done.

Each ship’s crew consisted of a Captain, a Pilot, two machinists, three Norwegian sailors and four Spaniards. The hunt was carried out using a harpoon -cannon, the Brunn system, designed by one of the owners. The Norwegians were the specialist arponeros, skilled in operation of the cannon. 

The harpoon-cannon, fixed in the bow on a rotating mount, was similar to that found on a warship, but designed specifically for its purpose. It was handled by the harpoon captain whose first task was to load it by its muzzle with ½ kilo of black powder before inserting the harpoon.

                          

                                                                 An arponero at the harpoon gun.

The whale catcher would leave harbour around dawn and steam slowly westwards for between four and seven miles (typically) waiting for the lookout, positioned in what amounts to a barrel up the fore-mast, to spot a target. These men were technical specialists who knew the behaviour of the whales and the waters very well and would often spot a whale three miles distant. This would be immediately communicated to the helmsman and from this point onwards the spotter would direct all the ships manoeuvres until he brought the vessel alongside the whale. Each whaler carried two lookouts, both were highly valued and paid the same as the Captain (700 pesetas each month in 1921) and also received a percentage on each barrel of oil. The down side was that taking half hourly turns up the mast often caused dizziness and consequently they carried a bucket in front of their position, to throw up into when the need arose. Having placed the ship in a firing position, it was now up to the arponero to fire the harpoon into or near the head, and whilst there might only be a part of the animal’s spine showing above the water, they rarely missed. Harpoon captains were the most highly paid individuals on board and their fees depended entirely on their performance.

The maximum firing distance was around 35 metres but usually it would be 20 to 22 metres. Any closer and the harpoon might pass straight through the carcass and out the far side. There was typically around 15 seconds between the harpoon entering the body and the explosive head detonating and driving out the blades to kill the animal. It was important that the harpoon should explode within the whale and kill it. If not well secured, baleen whales tended to sink and to remedy this, a type of hollow lance was often used to inject compressed air into the carcass to keep it afloat.

                   

                                                                Harpoons of various types.

The iron harpoon was 1 metre long and 15 cms in diameter and had four blades which were folded back and held with mackerel line, which parted as the harpoon head exploded. The head was an iron cone, about 1 foot or 35cms long and some 10” or 25cms in diameter and was charged with 400 grams of gunpowder and a detonator. The inboard end of the harpoon had a ring, of around 55mm, forged within it, to which the cable securing the whale was fastened. Despite this heavyweight construction, many of the harpoons were lost, or recovered twisted, by the forces imparted when a whale dived. Harpoons were frequently bent by the resistance of the mass of meat to be penetrated in a whale’s side. On average each metre of a whale’s length represented perhaps two tons or a little more; so a 30 metre specimen would come in at around 60 tons.

Once brought alongside, the whale was secured by a chain around its tail and the harpoon cable at its head, which in any case could not be recovered until the carcass was dismembered. It was possible to secure two whales each side but that was unusual. The limiting factor in captures seems to have been the factory’s capacity to try (boil down) the blubber, to deal with the meat and bone and to dispose of the baleen, which having a very low market price, was mostly composted for guano. Getares had six oil boilers which could process a maximum of three to four whales per day.

A 50 ton whale generally produce 28 barrels of oil, of 180 litres each (6 barrels to the ton) and  25 bags of meat and bone fertiliser, at 100kilos each bag. This was the norm, an excessively fat specimen producing more. The oil was divided into three or more classes, most commonly; pale, white and red and used for many purposes. Whale oil was used to tan leather, was indispensable in jute manufacture, preferred by soap factories above all other oils and – in the days before electricity was widespread – for household oil lamps. Coal miners continued to use whale oil lamps for many more years. 

                                                                            A whale ready to process.

To process the whale, when the carcass arrived at the stone ramp, a wire rope was attached to the chain round it’s tail and a powerful windlass drew it up to the flat concrete esplanade, which was the continuation of the inclined ramp; a place about 40-50 metres long by 25 -30 wide. One or two Norwegians, equipped with a curved 40cms knife on a 1.5 metre handle, gave the whale two cuts in the belly and another two in the groin along the whole length of the animal and then made another circular cut at the beginning of each of these strips of skin. Once done, they tied the end of each strip, one at a time, to a wire cable from the windlass that pulled slowly and, assisted by the Norwegian’s knives, skinned the carcass.

                                                            Herlofson and Brunn posing at the winch.

 These strips of skin with fat attached (known as blubber-blankets) were then dropped into a sub-floor dicing machine which cut them into cubes before sending them up in a bucket hoist to be tipped into the square iron boilers. With the help of a little steam, more than 100 degrees was achieved and the cubes melted down into oil. About a quarter-way up the boiler was the tube where the oil was drawn off and below that another yielded the lower classes of oil. The remnant of the carcass was now hoisted up onto the wooden platform, where every last component of the whale was broken up and dropped into 12 round boilers; nothing was wasted.

Every part of every whale went out as oil or fertiliser. The fertilizer was in three forms; a guano made of two parts meat and one part bone; another called Bornil made only of bone and fins; and a third called Callford which was made of meat only. This last was the most useful as it could be used to fertilise the land as well as feed livestock.

These products came from Fin whales, so what became of the Sperm whales they caught?  Though much lesser numbers were taken these animals were much more valuable. When a Sperm whale was brought on shore, the head was cut off and the remaining carcass consigned to fertiliser. The head was placed on a large iron platform and using just the weight of the head alone, it would melt perfectly, the Sperm oil draining through a central hole into a container below. The animal’s spermaceti organ could contain as much as 1,900 litres of waxy oil – more accurately a liquid wax – that had multiple uses. In lamps it was prized for giving a bright light with no odour, it was used extensively as a lubricant – until 1972 as automatic transmission fluid – in light machinery like sewing machines and watches because it is thin and doesn’t congeal, dry out or corrode metals, in locomotives and steam powered looms because it can withstand high temperatures. Because of its low freezing point it saw widespread use in the aerospace industry; it gave surface protection to fire arms and was the basis of the original Rust-Oleum. A fairly useful product then, but an unfortunate – some would say a despicable - way to produce it.

During 1924 to 25 some 752 whales were taken, 652 Fins and 100 Sperm. From 1925 to 26 that figure dropped to 549, around 496 Fins and 53 Sperm whales and they had to travel further to achieve those results; the best catches being over 50 miles out beyond Cape Spartel, increasing costs and exposure to bad weather. Whale oil prices had suffered a significant decline and the end was in sight. Whilst the factory in Galicia continued for some time, Getares closed down and the original proposers now investigated the new technology of factory ships. Herlofson had fallen in love with Spain and a decade later bought a property in Pelayo which he named Cortijo de la Ballena… but he was sensible to the fact that Spanish whaling was over… and the civil war was about to begin.

 

 

                First published in History Society Chronicle 2019.       Paul Hodkinson.