a different kind of whale watch

As some readers might be aware, Iceland has recently resumed commercial whaling. There's been small amounts of whaling for scientific purposes for years, but this decision has opened up the allowance to hunt whales of other species. In true Icelandic fashion, this has become a spectator event, so yesterday morning I went with friend G and two others out to Hvalfjörður to see the recently caught fin whale. I remember driving through the abandoned whaling station at the side of this fjord over a year ago, choosing to take the slow route where most people decide to save the hour and take the tunnel.

Unlike that ghost-town atmosphere last time, yesterday the whaling station was abuzz with activity and cars. Whole families had turned out to observe the massive creature be turned into steaks. By the time we arrived, the skin had been removed and lay in three-foot wide strips on the ground, and off to one side, the lower jaw bone, curved like the prow of a rowboat. I went to touch it, and the resiliant texture was exactly like rubber, with a membrane that was peeling off in thin layers that felt like the outer coating on a decaying old-fashioned raincoat.

There were men crawling all over the partly dismembered whale with long saws on the end of poles and spiked rubber boots, slicing into the side of what was left, and then after a little more work, someone fired up a winch, and they pulled out a filet that was probably 20 feet long. It slithered silently along the plastic floor covering and disappeared into the nearby processing shed.

There's something so honestly matter-of-fact about seeing this kind of thing. It's food, humans eat other animals, and this is what must happen in order to eat it. No ceremony, no apologies. It was also quite surreal to watch men scaling the blubber-encased carcass with their spiked boots, there on that golden-sunny calm Sunday afternoon in yet another spectacular Icelandic setting.

I've had a lot of discussions about whaling with people here these past few days, and while not everyone is for it, the ones that aren't don't point to the inhumanity as their objections. They mention the dubious economic benefit, or the possible loss to the whale-watching industry that's been growing tremenously in recent years. There's been talk of the hypocricy of those who object then going out to dig into a hamburger that's the product of a factory farm in South America where the animals hardly have a life, or the strange emotional connection people have to these mammals, the possible lack of understanding that there are many different species, and not all are endangered. There also seems to be a certain "we do what we like in our waters" component to it, although I find it odd that the whole whaling operation is run by just one guy. And finally, I wonder if it's just another display of what seems to be part of the national character, to do things that might be unpopular or difficult, just to show that it's possible, whether it's harboring Bobby Fischer or driving on a cracked glacier.

Ship sighting: Hvalur 9 was the ship that brought in the whale, and it was tied at the end of the whaling station dock, steaming silently. This boat and its three companions have been tied together down at the harbor for years, until Hvalur 9 was hauled to the dry dock a few months ago and given a complete makeover. Now we know why.