It's the second largest living animal on earth. The fastest swimming of all the large whales, they can reach 25-30 mph for short distances. But they normally like to cruise around at 18-20 mph. That's still a pretty good clip considering they weigh between 40-80 tons...that's 80,000 to 160,000 pounds! Coming in right behind the Blue, the Fin is the second largest whale.
The gestation period for a Fin whale is about 11 months. Can you imagine giving birth to a baby 21 feet long and weighing almost 4,000 pounds! Newborns may feed on their mother's milk for up to 7 months. Females will wait 2-3 years before having another. Meanwhile, the little calf is growing up. They can start reproducing after reaching 6-12 years of age. But it can take them 25 to 30 years before they reach full physical maturity. They live to be 90-100 years old with some species surviving to the ripe old age of 135. I'm not sure how that was documented, but I find a real sense of comfort in that fact. I bet you are wondering right now just how long the second largest living animal on earth is...and hoping I'll relay that juicy morsel in this post. Well, you are in luck! I just happen to have that information right here. Get this, they can reach up to 88 feet in length! I know it's a lot of numbers and facts, but if you take the time to chew and digest them, it is truly amazing stuff. Astonishing, really.
The Fin Whale Photo by Mary Ann Melton |
I didn't know much about Fin whales before February 2007, except they were an endangered species. I was living on the Northern coast of California working my Saturday night shift at a fancy-schmancy-downhome-scrumptious restaurant in Mendocino. Maybe it was one of the customers, maybe it was one of my co-workers, but somehow I heard a whale had washed up on a beach north of Fort Bragg. I had no plans for Sunday, so late in the afternoon I decided to find this beach. It wasn't hard. The line of cars parked along Hwy 1 was a dead giveaway. I followed suit and started to walk north along the beach. It was a beautiful sunny, but chilly, day. I saw in the distance groups of people, all ages, gathered around the whale.
As I approached I was awestruck and humbled. Small by Fin whale standards, this female was only 60 feet long. But to me, she was immense. I felt small and insignificant in the very best of ways.This feeling I had inside was the same feeling I got when walking through Montgomery Woods, a grove of ancient redwood trees. There's a hush, a feeling like I'm in a vast cathedral, and the need for noise simmers down until all that is heard is the steady inhale and exhale of breath. Respiration. Re-spiration. Re-going back to the original place once again, Spiration-derived from the Latin 'spiritus,' breathing vigor into the soul. It may seem strange to have this reaction to something dead, something that had been dead for almost two weeks, something that smelled like it had been dead for almost two weeks, but I did.
I couldn't believe I was so close to such a mysterious creature, this one who prefers to travel alone or only in small pods. A lady after my own heart. I suppose she wouldn't have liked the mini-zoo of people hovering around her. I'll be honest, I didn't really like it either. I found myself wanting the hordes of folks to just stop talking...to be quiet. To feel. There was a lot to feel, but it was all cluttered up with nervous clatter. I saw the gamut. I saw fear and the creation of more distance. I saw curiosity and the magnetic pull towards. I saw adult anthropocentric bravado masking an insecure little 'look-at-me-child.' I saw unassuming soft reverence integrating our connection into the place of all things. It was as if the whale were a mirror to the sweeping vista of humanity. What happens when Homo sapiens come face to face with something they don't understand, with enormity that is hard to conceive, with the magnitude of wild nature? It plays out in a myriad of mirrored ways.
The Lakota have a phrase, Mitakuye Oyasin, literally translating to "All My Relations." ALL my relations expands beyond blood and species. The prayer encompasses the entirety of a living breathing universe: mountains, elements, stones, minerals, thunder, the seas, humans, whales...all part of the intricate connected pulse of life. All in relationship to one another, where each and every action affects us all. Nothing exists in isolation. There is no English word equivalent. The thought came into my head that I should return the following morning. That I should bring and offer tobacco as a way of honoring this being. I felt in my heart it was the right thing to do. So I left the crowds and headed south along the beach. As I was walking back, a red Toyota truck passed me on the wet sand. It was disconcerting to see a vehicle driving on the beach. It didn't belong there. I remember seeing something similar when travelling in Australia. I found it strange then, too.
The next morning the coast was enveloped in a soupy, thick fog. I was the only person on the beach. There was a stillness and suspension despite the constant rhythm of the waves. As I walked north I noticed something red in the distance. I continued my trajectory and then the red revealed itself--the Toyota truck. As I walked closer, I could see it was deeply stuck in the sand. And then I saw something horrifying. I stopped dead in my tracks. The truck was "parked" on part of the whale, and half of the fluke had been cut off with a chain-saw and taken. Upon witnessing this mutilation, I burst into tears.
And then, I experienced a rage that surprised and scared me. I couldn't contain it. How dare you desecrate this sacred animal! I looked around and found some hefty rocks, the weight solid in my hands. I raised the first one. I wanted to smash that windshield, to destroy that truck. I was screaming, "Why? You fucking assholes!!!!!" I stood there with my rock and vehemence...but in the end...I couldn't. It took every ounce of self-discipline I had not to vandalize that vehicle. I knew that violence in me came from the same source as those who committed this sacrilege. The rocks fell to the sand, and I crumpled to my knees and I wept. "Why, why, why...how could you do this?" My body shuddered with my lament. And after exhausting my tears, I did what I came to do in the first place. I circled her with tobacco, honored her, and prayed for understanding. I was heartbroken.
I met the Ranger on the way back to my car. I told him about the Toyota. But of course, he already knew about it. He was waiting for the tow truck. "It was a bunch of young guys messing around," he said. He hadn't known the fluke had been cut off.
I was disturbed and depressed about this for weeks. How can we be so disconnected, that we would defile such a beautiful being? We destroy what we fear, what is unknown, but why are we so fearful? Why must we dominate and annihilate? This was just the beginning of the innumerable questions that swirled around my brain. I wanted to understand why these guys did what they did. I wanted to reach into their barnacled hearts and, after throttling them, try to find their humanity. Try to help them find their way back to Mitakuye Oyasin. I wanted this with every fiber of my being. I needed it desperately.
I came back several more times to see the whale. It felt important to witness despite my helpless and hopeless feeling. And, I am very sad to say the mutilations continued. People carved their names into the whale and the other fluke was chainsawed and taken.
There was talk that the small town of Westport would save the carcass and reconstruct the skeleton for educational purposes. They were in the process of filling out the necessary permits. But then one day, when I went to visit the whale again, she was gone. The sea took her back. And I was glad.
As I approached I was awestruck and humbled. Small by Fin whale standards, this female was only 60 feet long. But to me, she was immense. I felt small and insignificant in the very best of ways.This feeling I had inside was the same feeling I got when walking through Montgomery Woods, a grove of ancient redwood trees. There's a hush, a feeling like I'm in a vast cathedral, and the need for noise simmers down until all that is heard is the steady inhale and exhale of breath. Respiration. Re-spiration. Re-going back to the original place once again, Spiration-derived from the Latin 'spiritus,' breathing vigor into the soul. It may seem strange to have this reaction to something dead, something that had been dead for almost two weeks, something that smelled like it had been dead for almost two weeks, but I did.
Here she is...the Fin whale of February, 2007 Photo by Garth Hagerman |
The Lakota have a phrase, Mitakuye Oyasin, literally translating to "All My Relations." ALL my relations expands beyond blood and species. The prayer encompasses the entirety of a living breathing universe: mountains, elements, stones, minerals, thunder, the seas, humans, whales...all part of the intricate connected pulse of life. All in relationship to one another, where each and every action affects us all. Nothing exists in isolation. There is no English word equivalent. The thought came into my head that I should return the following morning. That I should bring and offer tobacco as a way of honoring this being. I felt in my heart it was the right thing to do. So I left the crowds and headed south along the beach. As I was walking back, a red Toyota truck passed me on the wet sand. It was disconcerting to see a vehicle driving on the beach. It didn't belong there. I remember seeing something similar when travelling in Australia. I found it strange then, too.
The next morning the coast was enveloped in a soupy, thick fog. I was the only person on the beach. There was a stillness and suspension despite the constant rhythm of the waves. As I walked north I noticed something red in the distance. I continued my trajectory and then the red revealed itself--the Toyota truck. As I walked closer, I could see it was deeply stuck in the sand. And then I saw something horrifying. I stopped dead in my tracks. The truck was "parked" on part of the whale, and half of the fluke had been cut off with a chain-saw and taken. Upon witnessing this mutilation, I burst into tears.
The beautiful Fin whale desecrated by humans. Photo by Feather3 |
I met the Ranger on the way back to my car. I told him about the Toyota. But of course, he already knew about it. He was waiting for the tow truck. "It was a bunch of young guys messing around," he said. He hadn't known the fluke had been cut off.
I was disturbed and depressed about this for weeks. How can we be so disconnected, that we would defile such a beautiful being? We destroy what we fear, what is unknown, but why are we so fearful? Why must we dominate and annihilate? This was just the beginning of the innumerable questions that swirled around my brain. I wanted to understand why these guys did what they did. I wanted to reach into their barnacled hearts and, after throttling them, try to find their humanity. Try to help them find their way back to Mitakuye Oyasin. I wanted this with every fiber of my being. I needed it desperately.
Photographer Mary Ann Melton captured the red Toyota pickup on the whale that Sunday night. The other car is trying to tow it out of the sand. They were unsuccessful. I arrived the next morning. |
There was talk that the small town of Westport would save the carcass and reconstruct the skeleton for educational purposes. They were in the process of filling out the necessary permits. But then one day, when I went to visit the whale again, she was gone. The sea took her back. And I was glad.