Bess and I ran this morning with Phillip Hoare, and today he was talking about the North Atlantic right whale, Eubalaena glacialis. The cetacean experts in the crowd will know that they were called the right whale because of their suitability for whalers, i.e., they were the right whale to kill. One reason is their very high fat content, which made them profitable, and also made them float when they expired. Depressing to hear, but part of our past nonetheless. The northern right is one of the most endangered of all mammals, maybe at the top of the list. (Quiz Question: how many remain?). They're actually pretty fecund, but they're also prone to disaster. As of now, the rate of loss is keeping pace with new births.
Phil's book is entertaining, even though it's a little lacking in scientific rigor. I also find myself losing track of whether Hoare is speaking himself, or quoting one his many sources ranging from Shakespeare to Thoreau. Lot's of Melville, of course. I guess I'll have to reread Moby Dick, although that'll to have to wait for a semester break.
Hoare is particularly impressed with the right's testicles, which apparently weigh more than a ton. Gonna have to look that one up.
I guess I'm enjoying The Whale. It's motivated a summer trip to Boston, with a junket to Nantucket. There's a limerick in there somewhere.
Regardless, for your pleasure...
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