The Right Whale's Head: A Contrast

Crossing the deck, let us now have a good long look at the Right Whale’s head.

Let's cross the deck and take a good, long look at the Right Whale's head.

As in general shape the noble Sperm Whale’s head may be compared to a Roman war-chariot (especially in front, where it is so broadly rounded); so, at a broad view, the Right Whale’s head bears a rather inelegant resemblance to a gigantic galliot-toed shoe. Two hundred years ago an old Dutch voyager likened its shape to that of a shoemaker’s last. And in this same last or shoe, that old woman of the nursery tale, with the swarming brood, might very comfortably be lodged, she and all her progeny.

The noble Sperm Whale’s head is shaped much like a Roman war chariot, especially at the front, where it is broadly rounded. By comparison, the Right Whale’s head looks rather awkwardly like a gigantic broad-toed shoe. Two hundred years ago, an old Dutch voyager compared its shape to a shoemaker’s last. The old woman from the nursery tale and all her swarming children could fit quite comfortably inside that last, or shoe.

But as you come nearer to this great head it begins to assume different aspects, according to your point of view. If you stand on its summit and look at these two F-shaped spoutholes, you would take the whole head for an enormous bass-viol, and these spiracles, the apertures in its sounding-board. Then, again, if you fix your eye upon this strange, crested, comb-like incrustation on the top of the mass—this green, barnacled thing, which the Greenlanders call the “crown,” and the Southern fishers the “bonnet” of the Right Whale; fixing your eyes solely on this, you would take the head for the trunk of some huge oak, with a bird’s nest in its crotch. At any rate, when you watch those live crabs that nestle here on this bonnet, such an idea will be almost sure to occur to you; unless, indeed, your fancy has been fixed by the technical term “crown” also bestowed upon it; in which case you will take great interest in thinking how this mighty monster is actually a diademed king of the sea, whose green crown has been put together for him in this marvellous manner. But if this whale be a king, he is a very sulky looking fellow to grace a diadem. Look at that hanging lower lip! what a huge sulk and pout is there! a sulk and pout, by carpenter’s measurement, about twenty feet long and five feet deep; a sulk and pout that will yield you some 500 gallons of oil and more.

But as you come closer to this great head, it begins to look different depending on your point of view. If you stand on top and look at its two F-shaped blowholes, you might take the whole head for an enormous bass viol. The blowholes would look like openings in its soundboard. Then look closely at the strange, crested, comb-like growth on top of the head. It is a green thing covered with barnacles. Greenlanders call it the “crown,” and Southern fishers call it the “bonnet” of the Right Whale. If you look only at this growth, you might take the head for the trunk of a huge oak, with a bird’s nest in its fork. In any case, that idea will almost certainly come to you when you watch the live crabs nestled on the bonnet. But perhaps the technical term “crown,” also given to it, has captured your imagination. In that case, you will take great interest in thinking of this mighty monster as a crowned king of the sea. His green crown has been put together for him in this marvelous way. But if this whale is a king, he looks far too sulky to wear a crown. Look at that hanging lower lip! What an enormous sulk and pout! By a carpenter’s measurement, that sulk and pout is about twenty feet long and five feet deep. It will yield you some 500 gallons of oil and more.

A great pity, now, that this unfortunate whale should be hare-lipped. The fissure is about a foot across. Probably the mother during an important interval was sailing down the Peruvian coast, when earthquakes caused the beach to gape. Over this lip, as over a slippery threshold, we now slide into the mouth. Upon my word were I at Mackinaw, I should take this to be the inside of an Indian wigwam. Good Lord! is this the road that Jonah went? The roof is about twelve feet high, and runs to a pretty sharp angle, as if there were a regular ridge-pole there; while these ribbed, arched, hairy sides, present us with those wondrous, half vertical, scimetar-shaped slats of whalebone, say three hundred on a side, which depending from the upper part of the head or crown bone, form those Venetian blinds which have elsewhere been cursorily mentioned. The edges of these bones are fringed with hairy fibres, through which the Right Whale strains the water, and in whose intricacies he retains the small fish, when openmouthed he goes through the seas of brit in feeding time. In the central blinds of bone, as they stand in their natural order, there are certain curious marks, curves, hollows, and ridges, whereby some whalemen calculate the creature’s age, as the age of an oak by its circular rings. Though the certainty of this criterion is far from demonstrable, yet it has the savor of analogical probability. At any rate, if we yield to it, we must grant a far greater age to the Right Whale than at first glance will seem reasonable.

It is a great pity that this unfortunate whale has a cleft lip. The split is about a foot across. Probably, while the mother was pregnant, she was sailing down the Peruvian coast when earthquakes split open the beach. Now we slide over this lip, as if over a slippery threshold, and into the mouth. I swear, if I were at Mackinaw, I would take this for the inside of an Indian wigwam. Good Lord! Is this the path Jonah took? The roof is about twelve feet high and rises to a fairly sharp point, as if it had a proper ridgepole. The ribbed, arched, hairy sides are lined with remarkable, nearly vertical, curved slats of whalebone, about three hundred on each side. They hang from the upper part of the head, or crown bone, forming the Venetian blinds mentioned briefly elsewhere. The edges of these bones are fringed with hairy fibers. The Right Whale strains water through them, trapping small fish among the fibers. At feeding time, the whale swims open-mouthed through seas of brit. The central slats of bone, in their natural arrangement, have curious marks, curves, hollows, and ridges. Some whalemen use these to calculate the creature's age, as they would an oak's age from its rings. This method is far from proven, though the comparison makes it seem plausible. In any case, if we accept it, we must give the Right Whale a much greater age than seems reasonable at first glance.

In old times, there seem to have prevailed the most curious fancies concerning these blinds. One voyager in Purchas calls them the wondrous “whiskers” inside of the whale’s mouth;* another, “hogs’ bristles”; a third old gentleman in Hackluyt uses the following elegant language: “There are about two hundred and fifty fins growing on each side of his upper chop, which arch over his tongue on each side of his mouth.”

In earlier times, people seem to have had some very curious ideas about these blinds. One voyager in Purchas calls them the wondrous “whiskers” inside the whale’s mouth;* another calls them “hogs’ bristles”. A third old gentleman in Hackluyt puts it elegantly: “About two hundred and fifty fins grow on each side of his upper jaw. They arch over his tongue on each side of his mouth.”

*This reminds us that the Right Whale really has a sort of whisker, or rather a moustache, consisting of a few scattered white hairs on the upper part of the outer end of the lower jaw. Sometimes these tufts impart a rather brigandish expression to his otherwise solemn countenance.

*This reminds us that the Right Whale really does have a kind of whisker, or rather a moustache. It consists of a few scattered white hairs on top of the outer end of his lower jaw. Sometimes these tufts give his otherwise solemn face a rather roguish look.

As every one knows, these same “hogs’ bristles,” “fins,” “whiskers,” “blinds,” or whatever you please, furnish to the ladies their busks and other stiffening contrivances. But in this particular, the demand has long been on the decline. It was in Queen Anne’s time that the bone was in its glory, the farthingale being then all the fashion. And as those ancient dames moved about gaily, though in the jaws of the whale, as you may say; even so, in a shower, with the like thoughtlessness, do we nowadays fly under the same jaws for protection; the umbrella being a tent spread over the same bone.

As everyone knows, these same “hogs’ bristles,” “fins,” “whiskers,” “blinds,” or whatever you like to call them, provide women with busks and other stiffening devices. But demand for them has long been declining. Whalebone was in its glory in Queen Anne’s time, when the farthingale was all the fashion. Those ladies of old moved about gaily, though they were, you might say, in the jaws of the whale. Just as thoughtlessly, we nowadays rush under those same jaws for shelter from a shower. An umbrella is a tent spread over that same whalebone.

But now forget all about blinds and whiskers for a moment, and, standing in the Right Whale’s mouth, look around you afresh. Seeing all these colonnades of bone so methodically ranged about, would you not think you were inside of the great Haarlem organ, and gazing upon its thousand pipes? For a carpet to the organ we have a rug of the softest Turkey—the tongue, which is glued, as it were, to the floor of the mouth. It is very fat and tender, and apt to tear in pieces in hoisting it on deck. This particular tongue now before us; at a passing glance I should say it was a six-barreler; that is, it will yield you about that amount of oil.

But for a moment, forget all about blinds and whiskers. Stand inside the Right Whale’s mouth and look around again. See how all these rows of bone are arranged so neatly. Wouldn’t you think you were inside the great Haarlem organ, gazing at its thousand pipes? The organ has a carpet, too: a rug of the softest Turkey, the tongue. The tongue is, as it were, glued to the floor of the mouth. It is very fat and tender, and likely to tear apart when hoisted onto the deck. At a glance, I would say the tongue before us is a six-barreler. That is, it will yield about six barrels of oil.

Ere this, you must have plainly seen the truth of what I started with—that the Sperm Whale and the Right Whale have almost entirely different heads. To sum up, then: in the Right Whale’s there is no great well of sperm; no ivory teeth at all; no long, slender mandible of a lower jaw, like the Sperm Whale’s. Nor in the Sperm Whale are there any of those blinds of bone; no huge lower lip; and scarcely anything of a tongue. Again, the Right Whale has two external spout-holes, the Sperm Whale only one.

By now, you must have clearly seen the truth of my opening claim. The Sperm Whale and the Right Whale have almost entirely different heads. To sum up, the Right Whale has no great reservoir of sperm in its head. It has no ivory teeth at all, and no long, slender lower jaw like the Sperm Whale’s. The Sperm Whale, in turn, has none of the Right Whale’s blinds of bone, no huge lower lip, and scarcely any tongue. The Right Whale also has two external spout-holes, while the Sperm Whale has only one.

Look your last, now, on these venerable hooded heads, while they yet lie together; for one will soon sink, unrecorded, in the sea; the other will not be very long in following.

Take one last look at these respected, hooded heads while they still lie together. For one will soon sink into the sea without a record, and the other will follow before long.

Can you catch the expression of the Sperm Whale’s there? It is the same he died with, only some of the longer wrinkles in the forehead seem now faded away. I think his broad brow to be full of a prairie-like placidity, born of a speculative indifference as to death. But mark the other head’s expression. See that amazing lower lip, pressed by accident against the vessel’s side, so as firmly to embrace the jaw. Does not this whole head seem to speak of an enormous practical resolution in facing death? This Right Whale I take to have been a Stoic; the Sperm Whale, a Platonian, who might have taken up Spinoza in his latter years.

Can you see the expression on the Sperm Whale’s face? It is the same expression he died with, though some of the longer wrinkles on his forehead seem to have faded. I think his broad brow has the calm of a prairie, born of a thoughtful indifference to death. But look at the other head’s expression. See that amazing lower lip, accidentally pressed against the vessel’s side so that it firmly embraces the jaw. Doesn’t the whole head seem to speak of an enormous practical resolve in the face of death? I take this Right Whale to have been a Stoic. The Sperm Whale was a Platonist, who might have taken up Spinoza in his later years.