The waters around Tasmania were rich hunting grounds for whales.  Wherever ships sailed, whales seemed to flourish.  In 1803, Lt Bowen’s voyage to establish a settlement in Van Dieman’s Land passed a large school of sperm whales near Great Oyster Bay on the Tasmanian east coast.  So plentiful were the whales, the ship’s captain, Eber Bunker noted in his log, he “could take ‘em without looking”.  In a July 1804 report, hundreds of right whales were sighted off the Tasman Peninsula.  Even in the Derwent River, whales were numerous as noted by Mr Robert Knopwood, the first Anglican chaplain in Van Diemans Land.  He pointed out when travelling the Derwent, ships had to keep close to the shore to avoid the whales.

 

Within two years of establishing Hobart Town, the first whaling station in the southern hemisphere was built at Trywork Point, near Ralphs Bay in the Derwent River.  It is estimated that over 110 whaling stations operated along the Tasmanian coast.  National Parks and Wildlife research has confirmed the existence of 54 stations. 

 

Whaling stations sprung up along Tasmanian’s East Coast at the Bay of Fires, Wineglass Bay, Refuge Bay and Coles Bay in the Freycinet Peninsula region, Waubs Bay and the Fisheries at Bicheno.  As well, stations were built on Maria Island at Haunted Bay, Whalers Cove and Darlington; Schouten Island and Bruny Island at Adventure Bay, Cloudy Bay, Bull Bay, One Tree Point and Trumpeter Bay.

 

In the south of Tasmania, whaling stations were established in the D’Entrecasteaux Channel at Gagans Point, Catamaran River, Recherche Bay and Southport.  Six whaling stations were established on the Forestier Peninsula and two stations on Slopen Island off the Tasman Peninsula.  As well as three stations at Bramble Cove, Port Davey.

 

Most of Tasmanian’s whaling operations were shore based.  A bay whaling station was less expensive to set up and run compared with whaling from ships.  Besides, whales were so plentiful around Tasmania there was no need for ships to venture out.  All that was required to establish a bay whaling station was two or three whaling boats, a few buildings to provide shelter for the men and to store tools and equipment and a vantage point, which overlooked the sea.  The apparatus needed to turn whale blubber to oil included a wooden platform in shallow water on which the men would work removing the blubber from the whale, a wooden tripod (shearlegs) for hauling the blubber ashore, two or more large cast-iron cauldrons (trypots) for rendering the blubber to oil, and casks to store and transport the whale oil. 

The tools mainly consisted of harpoons and lances to capture and kill the whale, cutting-in spades to slice blubber from the whale and axes to hack the baleen from the whale’s jaw.  The cutting-in spades measured about 1.5 metres with a long wooden handle attached to the cutting blade.

 

The whalers used whaleboats to hunt their prey.  Approximately eight-metres in length, the boat was light, fast and easily manoeuvrable.  (The whaleboats were similar to the surf life-saving boats of the 1960s and 70s and today, seen at surf regattas around Australia).  Many of the whaling boats were constructed at either Port Arthur or Sarah Island Penal Settlements.

 

The boat was carefully prepared with all the equipment necessary for hunting, killing and retrieving the great whales.  The boats carried two harpoons, rope, food, water and survival gear. 

 

A whaleboat crew comprised of six men – four oarsmen, the headsman who was the harpooner and a sweep also known as the ‘helmsman’ who steered the boat with a long sweep oar.

 

With the industrial revolution came the need for products that would keep the wheels of machinery turning.  It was a time before electricity and before petroleum products.  Whale oil became an important commodity, as oil was needed for lamps and to lubricate machinery. 

Hoop skirts and corsets were fashionable for women’s apparel.  The flexible cartilage from the whale's jawbones, known as baleen, was an excellent product for making these garments.  It quickly became a valuable commodity.

 

In just four years between 1835 and 1839, over 7,740 whales were slaughtered for their oil and baleen.  The peak of the carnage occurred in 1839 when over 1,000 whales were killed.  After 1840, the whaling industry declined rapidly.  The whales were decimated to the point of near extinction.

 

The southern right whale was the main prey ad they measured approximately 18 metres long and weighed between 45 and 55 tonnes.  On average, each right whale produced 48 barrels (over 7,500 litres) of oil.  The whale was so named because it was considered to be the ‘right’ whale for the whaling industry.  It was slow moving, which made it easier to hunt in the small whaleboats, it floated when killed and yielded substantial quantities of oil. 

 

Whaling was arduous, dirty and the most dangerous profession of the 19th century.  Many men lost their lives.  In the 1800’s, whaling was the great adventure where men could pit their might against that of one of the largest mammals in the world.  The men who joined the industry had to be good seamen, alert and physically very strong.  The following narrative describes what it may have been like for the bay whalers of Tasmania…

 

The sun had barely broken the horizon leaving a rich golden hue lingering on the blue of the morning sky.  From the cliff-top vantage point, eager eyes intently search the ocean’s vastness for the telltale signs of treasure from the depths.  Suddenly, the watcher spots a flume of water about 200 metres from shore.  A shot rings out breaking the natural quiet of the morning.  

 

Waiting in a small inlet, a boat crew was alerted by the gunshot.  Like a waking serpent, they spring into life bending their backs to the oars digging them into the sea with power and vigour.  The hunt had begun for one of the largest animals in the world, the whale. 

The mammal’s distinctive black skin glistened in the morning sun.  It was quickly identified as a southern right whale before it slipped below the water, resurfacing a short time later.  Its blow clearly visible, the whale frolicked in the clear waters, diving and breaching oblivious to the imminent danger.

 

At the sweep, the helmsman urged the greatest effort from the oarsmen.  The crew, with every muscle straining, propelled the boat swiftly, quietly towards the unsuspecting whale.  The slick whaleboat cut easily through the water.  The boat rode up the face of a one-metre swell until at its crest it broke free of the wave.  The boat seemed to soar gracefully above the water for a brief moment before slashing down.  Such was the power of the rowers.

 

Even in the cool air, sweat saturated the hunters’ brows and their naked, sun-tanned torsos.  The oars beat the water so rhythmically that a drummer would have trouble maintaining the tempo.  They sucked large gulps of air into their lungs as their efforts increased.  The lure of the precious whale oil and baleen drove these whale hunters on.  Time was critical as the whale would soon sense the approaching hunters and quickly move on. 

 

Meanwhile, at the whaling station, the shore crew worked feverishly preparing for the bounty.  Deft hands plied the blades of the cutting tools to the grinding wheel honing them to a razor sharp edge.  The noise of the metal against the wheel droned on and on.  The sparks from the grinding glowed brightly in the dim morning light.  They danced in the air like tiny fireflies before cascading to the ground.

Others were by the waters edge readying the shearlegs, ropes, pulleys and windlass for the work ahead.  The shearlegs were a simple hoist made of wooden poles and used to lift the flensed blubber off the whale. 

 

Two cauldrons cradled in a roughly formed stone furnace stood ready to reduce the blubber to oil.  Each of the large iron pots could hold over 1,000 litres.  The furnace was stoked with wood ready to commence work as soon as the first piece of blubber was trundled up the beach.  Other smaller cooling pots were positioned close by ready to hold the hot oil.  Another crew rolled out the barrels to hold the valuable oil.

 

With everything ready, they waited for the hunters to return with their prize.  Some of the men would play cards, a couple of men worked sailors knots into intricate ornate works of art while swapping stories of previous exploits, those who could read enjoyed the words in the few books at the station, while others just laid basking in the sun sipping on freshly brewed tea. 

 

Out to sea, just twenty metres separated the whale and the boat.  The headsman readied himself.  He took up the steel harpoon and raised it above his head.  His muscles tensed and ready to let fly the lethal lance.  The distance between the boat and whale closed quickly.  Timing his throw perfectly, he launched the weapon with deadly ferocity.  The harpoon’s finely honed bards struck the whale in the back cutting through the whale’s skin with ease.  Success, the harpoon held fast.

 

The traumatised animal reacted instinctively, thrashing at the water.  This was not the place for the faint-hearted.  The animal could easily crush the whaleboat and its crew with its huge tail or flukes.  The crew reacted instinctively to the throes of the whale, rowing the boat from the wrath of the wounded creature.  The whale dived to free itself from the torment.  As it breached, the giant mammal sent a surge of water towards the small boat.  The torrent of water gushed over the sides of the whaleboat threatening to flood it.  Men with bailing pails expelled the water quickly.  Somehow, the boat remained afloat.

 

After a short time, the whale resurfaced, not far from where it had dived.  The harpoon line securing the whale to the boat held strongly.  Quickly, the headsman took up the second harpoon and again threw with accuracy.  The whale seemed to cry out as the harpoon penetrated its, twisting and recoiling before diving again.

 

The ropes holding the harpooned whale ran out swiftly as it plunged into the depths below.  Whirring like the buzz from a hundred bees, the line passed around a wooden loggerhead, which was used to control the speed of the rope.  The crewmen continually doused the rope with seawater to prevent the heat from the friction of rope-fibre on wood damaging the fastening line.  Soon the line reached its tether, and the giant cetacean dragged the boat along at a treacherous speed. 

 

For the boat crew, it was an exhilarating ride.  However, it was always a time of great danger especially if the seas were rough.  Even for the most courageous, there was always a hint of fear for the boat could easily be swamped or capsize.  The rescue was unlikely, and the shore was too far to swim in the cool waters.  Worse, the uncoiling rope, no matter how carefully laid out, could easily catch a man wrapping around his body and then drag him from the boat.  It was truly a dangerous profession.

 

The whale rose from the depths.  The water cascaded from its huge body.  Its blow tainted pink from the blood escaping from its open wounds.  The giant lashed at the water with its great tale and fins trying to free itself from its restraints.  The whale continued to dive and resurface again endeavouring with all its might to break free.  Each time the whale resurfaced it would thrash about to dislodge the harpoons.  The whale’s struggle was unceasing. 

 

It had been over three hours since the first harpoon struck the huge sea mammal.  The boat crew looked back to see the coastline blur into the distant haze.  They estimated that they had travelled over six kilometres.  It was going to be a long row back to their station.

The great giant exhausted from its wounds, the constant diving, and dragging the weight of the whaleboat, surfaced for the last time.  The boat crew watched the whale closely.  They all knew that it could still crush the boat with one casual swipe of its flukes.  Quickly the crew manoeuvred the boat alongside the whale.  The headsman took up a long lance, its blade long and razor-sharp.  He drove the lance almost a metre into the whale striking at the whale’s vital organs.  He withdrew the lance to strike the whale repeatedly. 

 

Blood ran freely from the lance wounds.  Even in exhaustion, the whale’s huge heart did not submit.  It struck back at its foes.  Using its tail and flukes, the giant thrashed blindly at the water churning it into a frothy foam.  After an hour of the sustained attack, the whale succumbed, and the mighty giant expired it final breathe.

 

Jubilant of their victory, the whalers secure the whale to their boat and then steel themselves for the arduous trip back to the whaling station.  With the dead weight of the lifeless carcass in tow, the journey was slow and exhausting.  The current, tide and wind all seemed to be against the whalers making the trip harder.  For the hardships, they did not shirk their task.

 

The station crew waited not knowing whether the hunt was successful or not.  The long hours pass slowly.  There seemed to be an endless procession from the huts to the beach and back again.  Everyone was keen to know the outcome of the hunt.  Waiting, watching, another cup of tea...boredom was always a challenge. 

 

Suddenly, a cry went out, “they’re back”.  The waiting whalers sprang into life; the tedium of the waiting was replaced by frantic activity.  Two boat crews raced down to the shore and launched their boats.  Quickly they rowed out to assist the returning crew. 

The remaining crew scrambled to collect their tools.  The wood in the tryworks was set alight.  The dry timber seemed to burst immediately into flame.  More wood was added to the fire to heat the pots.  Everything was ready to receive the whale.

After several hours of exertion and with every muscle aching, the whale hunters were close to their station.  The men exhausted.  The journey home required over four hours rowing.  The lifeless body of the giant mammal acted like an oversized sea anchor slowing the craft to a steady crawl.  When the other boat crews came alongside, the hunters were so spent they were unable to acknowledge the greetings of their comrades.

The fresh boat crews took the securing lines and manoeuvred the whale into shallow waters.  They secured the whale to a wooden platform where the work to remove the blubber could begin.  The men waiting at the shore waded into the water.  The men were dwarfed by the huge bulk of the mammal.  They secured the carcass to anchor points and commenced the flensing process. 

 

Two men climbed onto the back of the whale and with cutting-in spades began slicing large strips of blubber from the carcass.  Each piece of blubber measured approximately three metres in length, a little over one metre wide and about one-third of a metre thick.  The metal of the spade cut easily into the whale’s skin.  The water turned red.

 

As the strip of blubber was removed from the whale, it was hooked onto the shearlegs and hoisted on to the beach.  The windlass and tackle strained under the weight.  Once ashore, the whalers began cutting the blubber into smaller pieces ready for the trypots.

Meanwhile, another team with axes began hacking the baleen from the whale’s jaw.  The two-metre lengths of flexible cartilage, important to the corset and hoop skirt fashions of the day, was cleaned and carefully piled on the beach.  When the work had finished there were over 200 lengths of baleen.

 

The black smoke resulting from the waste from the reduction process being added to the fires curled and eddied into the air.  The stench from the fires hung heavy in the air.  The smell so strong it often turned the stomach of the newer whalers.  The men working the try-pots were covered in black, oily soot.  At times, their skin was so black it was difficult to tell its true colour. 

 

Working the trypots was arduous and risky work.  There was always the threat of the oil catching alight.  There was also the danger of hot oil spilling onto the men.  Great care was needed especially as the pots needed to be constantly stirred to prevent the residue sediment settling on the bottom of the cauldron.  Otherwise, the sediment would burn tainting the oil, reducing its value.  When the oil was ready, the whalers ladled it into unheated trypots to cool.  Eventually, the oil was transferred to wooden barrels ready for transport to markets in Australia and overseas.

 

Whales are once again returning to the waters around Tasmania.  Now, tourism replaces the hunting of these gentle giants of the deep.

 

Further Reading

Peter Mercer; A Most Dangerous Occupation Whaling, Whalers and the Bayleys: Runnymede’s Maritime Heritage.

Michael Nash; The Bay Whalers Tasmania’s Shore Based Whaling Industry