Whaling
in Bequia
I shook hands with him
once at Friendship Bay beach and his grip was
strong and hard! Despite his 70+ years of age,
Athneil Ollivierre, the master whaler of Bequia,
still had the strength to throw his harpoon and
was waiting for the call from day to day. Boat
and harpoon were ready at the beach - once a
whale is sighted no time must be lost.
Two years ago, a call
came, and they got their whale. Peter went over to see
the spectacle. I myself never expected to see it. But
this spring in March the call came again - Athneil and
his crew bagged two whales, a mother humpback and her
baby. He does not throw the harpoon by hand any longer -
though I don't doubt that he could - he uses a small
canon instead. But the whaling boats are still small,
wooden 25 footers, and it it remains a very serious and
demanding business on the high seas once the rope runs
out connected to a hurt, deep diving and angry leviathan
weighing thousands of pounds!
We happened to have planned
on a sail to Bequia that weekend in March 99, and the day
before they brought in the two whales to the old whaling
station on the small island of Petit Nevis (which is for sale
now; some $7 M) just a mile south of Bequia, and so we asked
our crew to change course and anchor right next to the scene.
The International
Whaling Commission allows St. Vincent and thre
Grenadines 2 or 3 whales a season. They probably
yield to the pressure of respecting a tradition. The
Caribbean humpbacks belong to a group whose
destination during the summer is not known, thus
nobody can tell whether there are large enough
numbers to sustain a yearly kill of one, two or
three. Total numbers of Atlantic humpback are up - so
overall nobody can claim there is a risk of
extinction.
Two years ago it
was not so funny to me when the whalers out of
mainland Barroullie killed two or three killer whales
(orcas) - normally they only get "black
fish" - small pilot whales - if any. I have
never heard that anyone would want to eat killer
whales, and if you want to irk the international
whaling lobby, don't kill the killers! But every 2 or
3 years there is a sighting of the humbacks around
the island of Bequia, and then it is high time for
Athneil and his crew. One day this tradition will die
with him, so they say, but maybe there will be
successors. The whole Friendship Bay area is
populated with Ollivierres - descendants of
Portuguese fishermen of maybe 200 or more years ago,
easily recognised by there eyes: They are a unique
ligth green/brown, very distinct from that of the
black population. And they all have the same last
name!
Cutting up a whale turns
into a folk festival: Boats of all sizes are zipping back and
forth between Bequia and Petit Nevis, discharging locals and
tourists, small airplanes are circling the scene providing
sightseeing trips for tourists in a hurry, and every yacht in
the region is looking for anchorage in the limited shallows
around the whaling station.
Hundreds of people are
hanging around, vendors are quick to set up barbeques and
drink sales. Most are freely consuming Hairoon beer or St.
Vincent Strong Rum, 154 proof, cutting it with a zip of cold
water in between gulps, and many come over from Bequia or all
the way from St. Vincent for picnics and ball games along the
periphery of the station.
The mother whale was almost
finished by the time we arrived, barefoot 
"butchers" still standing
on top of it, hacking their way at meat and blubber. Chunks
of meat were stored under plastic roofing and later sold to
local buyers. It was difficult to get close - I never found
out how much they charged. I belive it is the usual EC$5.-
(Can$2.-) per pound. The central depot was fenced off, it
would have been mayhem otherwise. Some young fellows did not
mind to go swimming in the blood-tainted waters around the
carcass. As it was being cut it up, the animal was winched in
foot by foot - just as in the old times when whales were more
plentiful and the facility was busy several times a year.
The carcass is still being
winched to shore - blubber and meat chunks are lying beside
the tail fin, ready to be carried to the storage area shaded
by a blue tarp.
Spectators overlook the
whole scene - and lots of them are constantly coming and
going on sort sof boats.
I would have liked to
buy a chunk of meat and give it to my neigbors back in
St. Vincent - but we were on a "pleasure' cruise and
it might have been offensive to our visitors. Two days
later my maid brought a piece of cooked whale meat to my
house: I was going to try it but in the end refused. My
daughter might have eaten me alive and I just could not
stomach it. A British visitor told us that during the war
they were given whale meat only if nothing else was
available - remembering these words did not raise my
appetite. Some time ago someone gave us a small bag of
"black fish blubber" diced into bite size
chunks. It tasted like cod liver oil, and we did not ask
for a second helping.
Did
I like the scene at Petit Nevis? Yes.
Do I
want them to kill any more whales? No.
Would
I go again if they did? Probably.
How
about you?
THE
END