Showing posts with label Natural History. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Natural History. Show all posts

Friday, 24 January 2025

Book Review - The Whale's Journey by Stephen Martin

 The Whale's Journey by Stephen Martin

Sydney: Allen & Unwin, 2001                                 ISBN 1865082325

This is a fascinating book, summed up by the note on the front cover "a year in the life of a humpback whale, and a century in the history of whaling". Martin tracks the yearly migration of southern humpbacks from their feeding grounds in Antarctica to Northern Australia and the Pacific Islands, interspersing descriptions of the creatures and their habits with man's efforts to hunt them as they travel.

Martin notes throughout the book how little we know about some aspects of a humpback's life even "now" (the book was written in 2001), and how much of what we do know came from a collaboration between science and commercial whaling.

The information that interested me most was about the shore-based whaling that occurred in Australia and New Zealand, which tended to focus on catching humpbacks, as they usually kept close to shore and were relatively easy to catch given their slow speed. The surprising thing for me was that most shore stations were only active for relatively short periods of time, sometimes barely a dozen years in some cases.

What Martin makes clear in this book is that from even the late nineteenth century it was becoming clear to many whalers and scientists that the numbers of whales were diminishing quite quickly, and that catch levels were unsustainable. This didn't stop the industry from growing, even though many governments sought to put limits around catch sizes. When the Norwegians (followed by the Japanese and Soviets) developed factory ships that didn't rely on a shore station to process the whale, fisheries developed in international waters and little could be done to effectively manage whales and whaling.

Whaling for humpbacks eventually ceased for the simple reason that they had been fished out. From populations of tens of thousands, numbers were down to a few hundred by the 1960s. This made the catching of humpbacks uneconomical, and the catastrophic drop in numbers led to a complete ban on catching the species from 1962. Whaling in general was becoming more uneconomic by that time anyway, as the products of the whale, particularly the oil, were no longer needed for items such as foodstuffs.

The whaling itself, from shore stations, was often financially very precarious. Martin relates how some stations closed down and re-opened several times over the course of the twentieth century, as the economics of whaling waxed and waned. The lives of the people engaged in this activity were often hard - the whaling stations were usually in remote areas, the work was hard, dangerous and offensive to the senses, and the quarry became more elusive as each year passed. There is a certain sense of irony that much of the scientific knowledge we have about humpbacks come from scientists studying the whales caught by the whalemen, not to mention that whale tourism now brings almost as much money as whale killing used to, and is altogether a much more pleasant interaction for all involved.

This book well conveys the story of both the whales and the (mostly) men who fished for and studied them. There are some interesting photographs to illustrate the text, but I feel that there could have been a few more maps to help illustrate not only the whale's journey north to their breeding grounds and back south to the krill, but also illustrating the locations of the main whaling efforts.


Cheers for now, from
A View Over the Bell


Wednesday, 4 January 2023

Book Review - The Rocks Remain by Gavin Maxwell

 The Rocks Remain by Gavin Maxwell

London: Longmans, 1963

Many many years ago (in a different century, before mobile phones and the internet) I read Gavin Maxwell's Ring of Bright Water. It was not a book I would have chosen to read, but I am very glad that my school put it on the curriculum, as Maxwell's tale of adopting and looking after otters in the wilds of Western Scotland is a wonderful book, which has sold in the millions since its publication in 1960.

The Rocks Remain, a sequel to Ring of Bright Water, does not quite live up to the charm of the first book, partly because it is not a connected narrative (chapters move from Morocco to Majorca, London to Camusfearna), and because the book is clouded over with disasters both major and minor. The book starts with Maxwell's description of the Agadir earthquake, of which he witnessed the aftermath at first-hand.

The parts of the book that deal with Scotland introduce us to three new otters - Teko, Mossy and Monday, and the descriptions of their introduction to Camusfearna, and all the trouble and joy they gave Maxwell, his wife and his helpers Jimmy and Terry, are enjoyable to read. We are re-introduced to Edal, and the terrible injuries she inflicted on Terry, which meant that she was no longer handled by humans as much. The otter star of this book is Monday, an incredibly intelligent animal who continually out-witted Maxwell's attempts to keep her in an enclosure.

Other stories centre around the Polar Star, a motor launch that caused Maxwell many problems and was nearly sunk during a dark and windy night. There is a chapter describing a fire at Camusfearna that could have been catastrophic if it wasn't for Maxwell's quick reaction. There are several chapters that revolve around Maxwell's trips to Morocco, and an incident in Majorca when someone stole his Mercedes 300SL and destroyed it in an accident.

One gets the impression that Maxwell was not perhaps the nicest of people - as this book was written after Ring of Bright Water was released, Camusfearna becomes a bit of a tourist attraction, which Maxwell loathes, and his descriptions of his interactions with curious trekkers are a bit of a low point of the book.

And maybe that's why The Rocks Remain is not as satisfying as that first book. Maxwell writes as one who is a little jaded, as one who has more responsibilities and as such cannot spend as much time at Camusfearna with the otters, and who in some ways as one who has lost his way a little. During the book he gets married, and it is sad to know that his marriage only lasted a year, and that he was dead (of lung cancer) before the end of the decade.

If you loved Ring of Bright Water, and you track this book down, it's worth reading. If you have not read the first book, I strongly suggest reading that first, before reading The Rocks Remain.


Cheers for now, from
A View Over the Bell


Wednesday, 8 July 2020

Book Review - Birds, Beasts and Relatives by Gerald Durrell

Birds, Beasts and Relatives by Gerald Durrell

London: Collins, 1969

The second book in Gerald Durrell's Corfu Trilogy (I have reviewed the first book here), Birds, Beasts and Relatives is not really a sequel to My Family and Other Animals, more an extension. Durrell has mined his and his family's memories to add to the trove of stories about their life on Corfu. We are introduced to some new characters along the way, as well as re-meeting Theodore and Spiro, the Durrell's two closest friends on Corfu.

As always, it is Gerald's description of the natural life of Corfu that is most appealing - his writing takes the reader to the olive groves and beaches of this wonderful island, and we share his fascination with everything that walks, crawls or flies past him. And it is his love of animals that find him in some very strange situations: at the birth of a son to a local peasant woman, watching it all (along with all her relatives), to dining with a Countess who lived alone with her strange manservant. These stories are interspersed with hilarious tales of the people Larry brought home to tea - Sven the Swedish accordianist, Captain Creech, who is as bad as he sounds, and Max and Donald, a sort of Laurel and Hardy double-act.

The beauty of books such as these well-written and evocative memoirs is that they take the reader out of themselves on a journey into someone else's life and times, and help us to forget whatever troubles we might be suffering. If you want to be taken away from where you are now, I can highly recommend Birds, Beasts and Relatives.


Cheers for now, from
A View Over the Bell

Tuesday, 30 June 2020

Book Review - My Family and Other Animals by Gerald Durrell

My Family and Other Animals by Gerald Durrell, with an afterword by Peter J.S. Olney

London: Macmillan Collector's Library, 2016 (first published 1956)

ISBN 9781909621985

What an absolutely wonderful book! I was drawn to reading it having seen the television series The Durrells, and I'm so glad that I was. I have known of Gerald Durrell since my early childhood owing to his work with endangered animals, having seen him on television, but until now have not read any of his 37 published books. My Family and Other Animals is the first of book of what has become known as the "Corfu Trilogy" of books Durrell wrote about his family's time spent on the Greek island of Corfu.

And what a wonderful time they had - Louisa, Gerald's mother was the kind-hearted head of the family (a widow), Larry, the eldest, a budding novelist, Leslie mad for hunting and guns, Margo the fashionista, and Gerry forever on the hunt for wildlife to observe and collect.

My Family and Other Animals is a wonderful collection of stories, some too good to be true (but they apparently were so) about the Durrell's life on Corfu, their family life and arguments, the friends they made and their eccentricities, and the natural life of the island. Gerry is a wonderful story-teller, and each chapter is a delight of humour and wonderful descriptions of the seasons and what they bring.

From the chaos caused by Gerry's magpies at a big family party, to their friend Spiro stealing goldfish from the King of Greece's palace, to Larry almost drowning in mud in an attempt to prove that Leslie's achievement of getting a "left-and-a-right" (killing two birds with two shots from a double-barreled shotgun) was not a big deal, to Margo nearly dying from actually kissing the feet of St. Spiridon, each chapter takes the reader into a different, simpler, more beautiful world, which, given what is going on today in the midst of COVID-19, is a gift.

I can't recommend this book highly enough.


Cheers for now, from
A View Over the Bell