Wandering Carolina Whale Skeletons

We returned to the N. C. Maritime Museum in Beaufort today for the third in a series of "Brown Bag Gams," this one presented by Museum Curator Ben Wunderly, who had presented the program on the "The Vanishing Crew of the Carroll A. Deering." (see post of January 30).  Ben presented the stories of three whale skeletons from North Carolina preserved in museums in this state and in Iowa, and in the process told us several interesting facts about the history of whaling.

Most of the whaling carried on here, especially form the Shackleford Banks, was shore whaling.  While the big ocean-going vessels from New Bedford were out in the open ocean in late winter and early spring, whalers in these parts would sight a whale from shore and row out in a small boat, harpoon it, and tow it to into Morehead City and other ports for processing.  "Whale sighted!" a sharp-eyed man would cry out (not the popular "Thar she blows!" of Hollywood films).  "Where away?" another would reply, and the boat would be launched.

These whales were huge creatures to be handled by small boats.  One Right Whale brought ashore, according to an old newspaper account, was 65 feet in length, with ribs eleven feet long, and produced 700 pounds of whale bone and 2000 gallons of whale oil.  Whale bone, flexible and strong, was used in everything from corsets to policemen's billy clubs.  Whale oil was used for a variety of purposes, including illumination until kerosene came into use.

This sperm whale was not harvested but instead washed ashore on Wrightsville Beach, and was one of those eventually skeletonized and displayed in a museum.

The whale on display in the Maritime Museum is that of a juvenile sperm whale that was also washed ashore at Cape Lookout in 2004.

So this turned out to be another interesting program, attended by about 20 people, including some now-familiar faces of those who are interested in maritime history.  "Where are you from?" a couple sitting up front asked.  We told them; clearly, we were "dit-dots!"  But it turns out they were dingbatters.

It had been raining when we awoke this morning, which continued all morning and during the drive across the big new bridge to Beaufort; but when we came out of the museum after the program, we were surprised to emerge into bright sunshine . . . and it was raining at the same time.  The sun and the rain flip-flopped back and forth for awhile, and now, late in the afternoon, both have disappeared, replaced by a thick fog which has settled on the beach, hiding any view of the ocean.  But we can still hear it, even with the patio door closed, crashing invisibly onto the beach.