Read Online War of the Whales by Joshua Horwitz - Free Book Online
Authors: Joshua Horwitz
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had a rigid, military bearing that made Ken straighten his posture to meet his gaze. As they stood with their hands clasped, Ken could feel his father’s steel blue eyes searching his, appraising what kind of man the boy he’ d left behind had become.
As soon as they entered the house, Blue grew tense. His wife was clearly unhappy about Ken’s visit, so the Balcomb men spent most of the week outdoors, building a stone wall to run along the curved driveway to the house. Ken and Blue hauled granite rocks from the field behind the house, while Ken’s grandfather—a civilian engineer and road builder by profession—chiseled the stones into shape and cemented them into place along the wall. It was hard physical labor, the kind Ken liked. He was happy showing off his hard-earned muscles and exerting himself in silence alongside his father.
When it was time to say good-bye, Blue didn’t suggest another visit or promise to stay in touch. On the long drive home to Sacramento, Ken became convinced that he hadn’t measured up in his father’s eyes.
Five years later, Ken was a senior at UC Berkeley and had been accepted to Berkeley Law School for the following fall. Though he’ d been a serious student throughout high school and college, his heart wasn’t really in a law career. Still, Blue was the closest thing he had to a father or a role model, and Ken continued to crave his approval, even if they hadn’t spoken since his visit to Colorado.
Ken had become a father himself by the age of 20. The summer after his sophomore year, when he was filling up his prized ’34 Ford at the Texaco station in Sacramento, a girl pulled up in a Chevy convertible and started to flirt with him. Anne liked that he was a good listener with kind eyes and a gentle manner. And he had a preppy look that told her he was heading places, and she liked that too. They started dating, and when Anne soon became pregnant, Ken married her before returning with her to school that fall—which is what you did in 1961 if you were a stand-up guy.
Then, in the spring of his senior year of college, Ken took a fish and wildlife management course, and it turned his life around. While studying the skull of a West African lion (
Panthera leo senegalensis
), he was transported back to his first teenaged encounters with whale bones on the beaches of Point Reyes. Suddenly the idea of spending his adult life indoors—in law libraries and conference rooms and courtrooms—horrified him. He wasn’t sure how it would translate into a career yet, but he knew that what he wanted, even more than his father’s approval, was to work outdoors studying animals in the wild.
He announced to Anne that he’ d decided to follow his passion and enroll in the University of California at Davis’ graduate zoology program, instead of law school. The next fall Ken moved his young family—including their infant son, Kelley—into a mobile home in a trailer park not far from UC Davis.
Like so many cetologists of his generation, Ken found his way into whale research by accident. As a grad student, he was in charge of collecting fresh horse lungs for an emphysema study funded by the National Institutes of Health (NIH). Twice a week he’ d drive from Davis to a horse slaughterhouse in south Oakland, retrieve whatever fresh lungs he could find, ice them down, and drive the specimens back to the lab. Returning from one of these trips, Ken saw a sign for the Richmond whaling station just north of Oakland, and took a detour to investigate.
In 1963 Richmond was home to the last two whaling outfits in the United States: Del Monte Fishing Company and the Golden Gate Fishing Company. Most of the world’s whaling fleet had followed the remaining whale populations to South America and Antarctica, where they were hunted and processed at sea aboard huge factory ships. But Del Monte and Golden Gate still hunted whales off the California coast, hauling about 200 whales a year—mostly
As soon as they entered the house, Blue grew tense. His wife was clearly unhappy about Ken’s visit, so the Balcomb men spent most of the week outdoors, building a stone wall to run along the curved driveway to the house. Ken and Blue hauled granite rocks from the field behind the house, while Ken’s grandfather—a civilian engineer and road builder by profession—chiseled the stones into shape and cemented them into place along the wall. It was hard physical labor, the kind Ken liked. He was happy showing off his hard-earned muscles and exerting himself in silence alongside his father.
When it was time to say good-bye, Blue didn’t suggest another visit or promise to stay in touch. On the long drive home to Sacramento, Ken became convinced that he hadn’t measured up in his father’s eyes.
Five years later, Ken was a senior at UC Berkeley and had been accepted to Berkeley Law School for the following fall. Though he’ d been a serious student throughout high school and college, his heart wasn’t really in a law career. Still, Blue was the closest thing he had to a father or a role model, and Ken continued to crave his approval, even if they hadn’t spoken since his visit to Colorado.
Ken had become a father himself by the age of 20. The summer after his sophomore year, when he was filling up his prized ’34 Ford at the Texaco station in Sacramento, a girl pulled up in a Chevy convertible and started to flirt with him. Anne liked that he was a good listener with kind eyes and a gentle manner. And he had a preppy look that told her he was heading places, and she liked that too. They started dating, and when Anne soon became pregnant, Ken married her before returning with her to school that fall—which is what you did in 1961 if you were a stand-up guy.
Then, in the spring of his senior year of college, Ken took a fish and wildlife management course, and it turned his life around. While studying the skull of a West African lion (
Panthera leo senegalensis
), he was transported back to his first teenaged encounters with whale bones on the beaches of Point Reyes. Suddenly the idea of spending his adult life indoors—in law libraries and conference rooms and courtrooms—horrified him. He wasn’t sure how it would translate into a career yet, but he knew that what he wanted, even more than his father’s approval, was to work outdoors studying animals in the wild.
He announced to Anne that he’ d decided to follow his passion and enroll in the University of California at Davis’ graduate zoology program, instead of law school. The next fall Ken moved his young family—including their infant son, Kelley—into a mobile home in a trailer park not far from UC Davis.
Like so many cetologists of his generation, Ken found his way into whale research by accident. As a grad student, he was in charge of collecting fresh horse lungs for an emphysema study funded by the National Institutes of Health (NIH). Twice a week he’ d drive from Davis to a horse slaughterhouse in south Oakland, retrieve whatever fresh lungs he could find, ice them down, and drive the specimens back to the lab. Returning from one of these trips, Ken saw a sign for the Richmond whaling station just north of Oakland, and took a detour to investigate.
In 1963 Richmond was home to the last two whaling outfits in the United States: Del Monte Fishing Company and the Golden Gate Fishing Company. Most of the world’s whaling fleet had followed the remaining whale populations to South America and Antarctica, where they were hunted and processed at sea aboard huge factory ships. But Del Monte and Golden Gate still hunted whales off the California coast, hauling about 200 whales a year—mostly
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