Happy Hunting Grounds in the Arctic
- Hans Faber
- Apr 24, 2021
- 59 min read
Updated: 2 hours ago
If you want to track down who killed the whale, the Frisia Coast Trail region is the place to start. Stop people on the streets along this southern North Sea littoral and ask whether they know anything, and you will likely hear: “I hear nothing, I see nothing, I know nothing.” Politicians and officials—say, in The Hague—will lament that they have no recollection of the affair. Better call them all Ishmael. In this blog post, we set out the unvarnished truth: how the peoples living on the coast between the ports of Amsterdam and Hamburg—and up to the Wadden Sea islands of Föhr and Sylt near Denmark—practically exterminated Arctic whale populations in the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries. So take out a pen and paper, and get ready to draft a lawsuit for redress and compensation.
This is a history of the classic whaling in the Arctic that existed between circa 1610 and 1860, commonly known as Grönlandfahrt or Groenlandvaart ‘Greenland navigation’ in the waters east of Greenland, and Davi(d)straatvaart 'Davis Strait navigation' in the waters west of Greenland. A whaling industry based in the North Sea coastal zone of the Netherlands and Germany.
Commercial whaling in the Indian and Pacific Oceans, which expanded from the late eighteenth century onward, is not the focus of this blog post. That industry was centred in a very different coastal world—New England in the United States—with its famously busy whaling ports such as Mystic on the Long Island Sound, the now ultra-chic island of Nantucket, and the Cape Cod peninsula. It was an industry led by Americans and immortalised by Herman Melville in Moby-Dick; or, The Whale, published in 1851. Nor does this post concern itself with modern whaling—the era of factory ships that began after the Second World War.
1. But Why?
Before we begin, it helps to understand why the peoples of the southern North Sea coast began harpooning and butchering whales—and other cute-looking, chubby marine mammals—in the Arctic in the first place. The reason was fat. Blubber. From blubber one produced whale oil, better known along the southern North Sea as traan, Tran, or troon, depending on the local speech. The blubber of whales, or of any other fat mammal, was boiled down in large copper cauldrons. After cooling it through several baths of cold water, clear train oil would rise to the surface. The best quality was achieved when the blubber was rendered immediately after the kill. For that reason, whale oil was at first produced on various Arctic islands themselves.
From the mid-seventeenth century onward, however, the blubber increasingly had to be shipped home in barrels and rendered in the patria ('homeland') instead—a change in practice we will explain later in this post. Two types of blubber were stored separately: vet (‘fat’) and foul-smelling kreng—impure fat and guts. Incidentally, kreng is still a common mild insult in the Dutch language; if you add vals, meaning 'vicious,' to kreng it becomes noticeably less mild.
Oils were indispensable across many industries: in ropewalks, in processing textiles and wool, as lubricants for machinery, and as fuel for lighting—indeed, the greased lightnin’ of the 1970s. In the sixteenth century, prices of vegetable oils rose sharply as Europe’s population boomed. Agriculture shifted to grain production, creating a shortage of oil-seeds. A similar shortage of oils after the Second World War would again drive a renewed wave of commercial whaling.
Another product derived from whales—though not as lucrative as train oil—was baleen. These baleen plates are the keratin bristles in a whale’s mouth used to filter krill. The material is flexible and was turned into all manner of goods: tobacco boxes, umbrella ribs, knife handles. Fashion made baleen especially profitable: it stiffened corsets and, later, the voluminous crinoline dresses.
Whale bone itself yielded an expensive lubricant known as charnel oil, knekelolie in the Dutch language, used among other things for medicinal purposes. And the bones as such were repurposed too: for fences, paving, even gravestones. When you holiday on one of the Wadden Sea islands of Germany or the Netherlands, just try not to trip over a piece of whale bone. You won’t succeed.
Species hunted at were the grey whale (Eschrichtius robustus) and the North Atlantic right whale (Balaene mysticetus). The latter is also known as the bowhead whale or, in the Dutch language, the noordkaper or groenlandse walvis. One whale yielded about 12,000 liters of train oil (Doedens & Mulder 2024). The right whale is thought to be the longest-living mammal on the planet, estimated to reach 200 years of age, but there are different theories on this. The right whale got its name because it was simply the ‘right’ whale to catch: it swam slowly, was relatively big and heavy, had a very thick layer of blubber, and, most importantly, it did not sink to the sea floor after taking its last breath, due to all its body fat. Many other whale species sink when dead, and at that time, no ropes existed that were strong enough to haul such a dead weight from the blue depths.
At the start of the commercial whaling era, right whales carried a blubber layer of roughly forty to sixty centimetres. Intensive hunting rapidly depressed populations, and with it the average size and fat yield per animal. In the 1760s the average yield was still forty to fifty barrels of vet ('fat') per whale; by the 1790s that had collapsed to ten to twenty-five barrels (Bruijn 2016). Around the Spitsbergen archipelago the effect was most visible: decades of over-exploitation had pushed the stock toward younger, leaner whales. West Greenland waters held fatter animals for longer (Baars-Visser et al 2022). By the close of the nineteenth century, the North Atlantic right whale was on the brink of extinction. The North Atlantic grey whale was gone. Full stop.
To warm you up for this icy long-read, we begin with the chilling testimony of a Frisian who spent days wandering stark naked across the frozen, barren wastes of Greenland. Although most recorded encounters between European seafarers and the Inuit of Greenland were amicable, this one was anything but welcoming.
On the Run Naked on Greenland — In 1777, a year remembered as a disaster year, fourteen ships were wrecked in the Arctic waters west of Greenland after a violent August storm: seven from Hamburg and seven from the Dutch Republic. In total, 300 men died that season. Some sailors from the wrecked vessels managed to reach the shores of Greenland, where they encountered the Inuit. One of them was Reinier Hylkes, from the village of Warnt in the province of Friesland. He had sailed on the ship De Hopende Visser—'the hopeful fisherman'.
The 'wilden' (wildlings)—as the account calls them—brought the surviving whalers to their settlement, where they were given fish, seal meat, and scurvy-grass (also known as salaat or lepelblad). The men were divided between two tents, one large and one small. Hylkes was placed in the large tent with thirty-seven others. They remained there for two weeks, until nineteen men departed in boats they had acquired from the Inuit in the meantime. The others had nothing left of value with which to purchase a vessel.
Those who stayed behind soon sensed a change in atmosphere. Food grew scarce, and they were assigned chores. When relatives of the Inuit arrived, the sailors were made to sing for them and were rewarded with some raw seal meat. Illness was common among the already-weakened men. If someone fell sick, the Inuit would drag him outside and leave him to die in the cold. A new phase followed: men were taken outside one after another, regardless of illness—never to return. The Inuit would sometimes come back laughing and mimicking the last cries they had heard: “Jan, Pieter, Aarjen—oh God, oh God!” These had been the final words of men in mortal terror.
This continued until only Hylkes and four others were still alive. It was now February. That month the Inuit set off northward by boat. After a few days of travel, it emerged that yet another shipmate—likely one who had been placed in the smaller tent—had survived. The joy of reunion was brief: before Hylkes’ eyes, the man was clubbed to death.
Soon after, Hylkes was stripped of his clothes and left naked on the beach. He was told he would be killed the next day. That night he escaped. For three days he wandered, stark naked, along the rocky coast. Then he spotted a tent. The Inuit he met there were friendly; they gave him clothing and food. Later they brought him to a Danish trader. The trader also confronted the group responsible for the killings, but there was nothing he could do. They were too numerous, and any action would have been dangerous for the Europeans. The only outcome was that Hylkes’ clothes were returned.
Now watch the Texas Chainsaw Massacre movies again.
Another group of whalers fared better that season. Among them was the crew of the Anna, commanded by Jeldert Jansz Groot from the Wadden Sea island of Schiermonnikoog. His nine-year-old son was with him—a decision that, at the time, seems to have raised no eyebrows. They did not experience the horrors described above. Jeldert Jansz reached Frederikshåb on Greenland and, in May of the following year (1778), succeeded in travelling on to Bergen in Norway. From there he returned to the Netherlands. Remarkably, by 1779 he was back at sea, hunting whales again (De Vries 2024).
Another sailor shipwrecked in the disaster year of 1777 was Hidde Dirks Kat (1747–1824), a Frisian from the Wadden Sea island of Ameland. On 30 September, his ship was crushed by pack ice and icebergs during a heavy swell that followed days of severe northeast storm. After an astonishing eleven days adrift on ice floes in open sea—without shelter and with only the scantest supply of food—the survivors reached Statenhoek, the southernmost point of Greenland, known today as Cape Farewell or Nunap Isua in Greenlandic.
Of the seventy-eight men, only eighteen made it to land. Some drowned, some froze to death, and some were left behind in despair because they were too weak to go on. After further wandering along the coast, Kat and the survivors reached an Inuit settlement at Frederikshåb—present-day Paamiut. They were received kindly by the inhabitants. Kat was deeply impressed by them; he even writes that it felt warmer there than at home. The most unpleasant thing he experienced under their care, he notes, was being required to wash himself with human urine—a barrel of collected urine stood inside the house. As for food, his diet consisted mainly of seal, fox, and crow. In 1778, Kat returned to his own damp and windswept island in the Wadden Sea.
Whalers were not spared from cannibalism either. In 1717, the ship of commander Cornelis Sjoukesz of the Wadden Sea island of Terschelling was wrecked near Statenhoek on Spitsbergen. Many of the crew drowned in the storm. The men who reached shore lost nearly all of the provisions they had tried to save. After five weeks of hardship, only three were still alive when rescue finally came—and they had survived only by consuming the corpse of a fellow crew member (Doedens & Mulder 2024).
2. The Run Up to Whaling
The far north was no unknown world to merchants of the Dutch Republic. For centuries they had traded with Norway, Finnmark, and the White Sea region in timber, furs, and hemp. Between 1578 and 1583 the Republic maintained a trading post at the mouth of the Dvina in the Tsardom of Russia; it was later relocated to Novo Kholmogory, where the Dutch eternal rivals—the English—were also present. That settlement would later be known as Arkhangelsk, named after the nearby monastery. From this comes the term Archangelvaart, the Arkhangelsk navigation.
One of the early explorers of the Arctic was Olivier Brunel (also spelled Bruyneel) from the town of Leuven in the region of Flanders. In 1584 he ventured into the region—and tragically, it was to be his last voyage. He drowned in 1585 near the mouth of the Pechora. Brunel is regarded as the founder of the Arkhangelsk navigation. Incidentally, the name survives in modern sailing culture: 'Team Brunel,' led by Dutch sailor Bouwe Bekking, is a major competitor in the Volvo Ocean Race—but that is another story altogether.
By the late sixteenth century the English and the Dutch had become consumed by the idea of a sea route to Asia through the Arctic—the fabled Northeast Passage. Such a route promised to be shorter and therefore cheaper. The overland Silk Road to Asia was slow and perilous, and thus expensive. A northern maritime route would also free the English and Dutch from constant harassment by the Portuguese, Spanish, and French on the traditional sea lanes, and would bypass waters and harbours rife with pirates, privateers, and Barbary or Salé corsairs. Of course, the Northeast Passage would only become feasible four centuries later, after human civilization had warmed the earth enough to melt the ice.
The Republic launched three expeditions in search of the Northeast Passage. In 1594 two ships set out: one under the command of the West Frisian Cornelis Nay of Enkhuizen, the other under the Frisian Willem Barentsz of the Wadden Sea island of Terschelling. The Frisian navigator Pieter Dirksz Keyser from the city of Emden from the region of Ostfriesland also joined the venture.
Nay and his crew reached the Kara Strait, south of Novaya Zemlya. There they also took what is considered the first whale in Dutch Arctic waters—on 14 July 1594. Jan Huygens van Linschoten, who witnessed the event, recorded the 'first blood' in his travelogue. The whale was a young animal. While the men stripped the blubber and hacked the carcass to pieces on the shore, the mother hovered offshore, lifting her body high from the water as if to watch the butchery, the Dexter-like massacre—a grim prelude to the centuries of slaughter that would follow. It was not a day of celebration, although it happened on quatorze juillet.
One of the two whalebone jawbones that Van Linschoten brought back from the Arctic still hangs from the ceiling of the old town hall in Haarlem.
A year later, in 1595, a fleet of seven ships under command of Nay gave it another try. Barentsz was also one of the captains. Of course, no passage to Asia was found.
Third time lucky — in 1596 the stubborn Willem Barentsz mounted yet another attempt to find the Northeast Passage. This expedition sailed with only two ships: one commanded by Jacob van Heemskerck and the other by Jan Cornelisz de Rijp, with Barentsz acting as overall leader. The venture was initiated by none other than the Land’s Advocate, Johan van Oldenbarnevelt.
It was on this voyage that Barentsz discovered the archipelago of Spitsbergen—'jagged mountains'—and Beereneiland 'bears island.' His ship eventually became trapped in the ice at Novaya Zemlya: “zoo vast als Haarlem" ('as tight as Haarlem'), as they used to say when a ship was beset. An expression referring to the long siege of the city of Haarlem by the Spanish in 1572–73 (Baars-Visser 2022). In the end the ship was crushed. Barentsz and his men were forced to defy the cold winter there. For ten dark months they endured the brutal Arctic season, surviving in a house they built from driftwood and salvaged timbers of the wreck, which they named ’t Behouden Huys—'the preserved house.'
When the sea opened the following year, they set off in a small boat they had constructed and rowed some 2,500 kilometres back toward the mainland. Barentsz died en route, on 20 June 1597, and four others perished during the open-boat return as well (Walda 1996).
The States General had offered a reward of 25,000 guilders for finding the Northeast Passage. Had he survived, one may wonder whether Barentsz. would have considered it worth the ordeal. For the record: the ship under Jacob van Heemskerck escaped the Arctic winter and made it safely back home.
death of Willem Barentsz. in 1597, by G. Kichigin, 1997 (l), & by C.J.L. Portman, 1836 (r)
At the beginning of the seventeenth century, the English—spurred on by the Muscovy Company—also set their sights on the Northeast Passage. The Muscovy Company, also known as the Russia Company and founded in 1551, held a monopoly on English–Russian trade and already possessed a whaling charter by 1557. In the years 1603, 1604, 1605, 1607, and 1610 the company financed a series of expeditions to the Arctic in search of the passage.
The one of 1607 was led by the famous explorer Henry Hudson. Shortly after this expedition, Hudson was hired by Dutch merchants of the Vereenigde Oost-Indische Compagnie VOC to discover a Northeast Passage. In the year 1609, sailing under the Dutch flag, he did not discover a passage but something completely else: the River Hudson and the island of Manhattan. No idea how Hudson ended up all the way in west given his assignment. Anyway, it is here where the New Netherland colony and the town of New Amsterdam, future New York City, soon would be founded. Read our blog post History Is Written by the Victors—a Story of the Credits for more about this piece of Dutch-Frisian world-changing history.
One engaging anecdote comes from the English expedition of 1610, led by Jonas Pool. As Pool’s ship passed the waters of the Spitsbergen archipelago, the sea was thick with whales. There were so many of them that they bumped against the anchor chains and even struck the rudder. One can imagine the scene.
As for Spitsbergen, the Norwegians annexed the archipelago in the twentieth century—on the classic argument that the Vikings had already discovered everything worth discovering in the northern hemisphere, and that therefore every grain of sand, pebble, and rock up there was theirs by right. One cannot deny that Norwegians think big. To make their claim visible, they also renamed Spitsbergen 'Svalbard,' meaning 'cold coast.' Even so, Barentsz’s name Spitsbergen for the entire archipelago has remained the dominant one to this day—at least some consolation for Barentsz’s efforts.
The Republic made no territorial claims to the rocks, islands, or lands discovered by Barentsz. The merchants and investors back home were interested only in profiting from the surrounding waters. Otherwise they adhered to Hugo Grotius’ principle of mare liberum—'the free sea.' Nor did the Republic claim Beereneiland (now Bjørnøya) or the island of Jan Mayen—both likewise discovered by Dutch seafarers. The latter still bears the name of its discoverer, Jan Jacobsz Mayen from the village of Schellinkhout in the region of Westfriesland, who landed there in 1614.
As said, all of these islands have since been claimed by the king of Norway on the basis of the Viking refrain: “Vikings must have been there, therefore it is ours.” Whether the Norwegians consulted the Inuit before advancing their claims is unknown. And if one follows that line of reasoning, the Irish might have an even older claim than the Vikings: Irish monks were already sailing to remote islands in the tradition of peregrinatio dei in the sixth century. Who knows—perhaps one day Ireland will file a case at the Peace Palace in The Hague arguing that Greenland, Bjørnøya, Spitsbergen, and Jan Mayen are in fact Irish territory. In the meantime (2025), the Americans have set their sights on Greenland.
3. Basque Tutors
In 1611, Arctic whaling really took off. Demand for oil was high and prices followed. Thanks to earlier voyages, both the Republic and England had by then charted the Arctic well. The Muscovy Company fitted out two ships for the blubber hunt. A year later, in 1612, Dutch investors sent out a ship under Willem Cornelisz van Muyden. Because neither country had any real experience in hunting, killing, cutting, and processing these giants, they hired Basque seamen—especially harpooners and speksnijders ('whale-cutters'). This coastal people had been whaling for generations and became the Master Yodas of large-scale commercial whaling in the Arctic for the Dutch, Frisians, Germans, and—to a lesser extent—the English and Danes in the early modern period.
The Basques were hunting whales already by the mid-eleventh century—and probably earlier, though the evidence for earlier dates is circumstantial. The chase was primarily for meat. Salted 'fish'—whales were classified as fish at the time—filled an economic niche created by Catholic dietary rules: no meat on Fridays, nor on the countless saints’ days. Not unlike why fish-and-chips shops are popular today with Muslim youth as an easy halal snack.
Medieval Basque whaling did not yet reach the Arctic; it took place in their own waters, the Bay of Biscay, where the North Atlantic right whale migrated north. In the Euskara language the Basques call it sarda, 'schooling whale.' They also hunted the grey whale, otta sotta. One wonders how the pious would fare at Heaven’s gate when questioned by Saint Peter: they could honestly say they had never eaten meat on Fridays or feast days—only 'fish.' And one cannot blame the Basques for this theological loophole: they, too, sincerely believed whales were fish, we assume.
Along the Biscayan coast the Basques built stone watchtowers—vigías—to scan the sea for whales. Once whales were sighted, small open boats, called chalupas in Euskara language, were launched in pursuit. The French called them chaloupes, the English shallops, the German Schaluppe. The Dutch word sloep clearly comes from the same root, and from that the English sloop (Chamson 2014). A chalupa was crewed by five oarsmen, a harpooner, and a steersman.
The harpoon, tied to the boat by a rope, was thrown by hand. The whale was then tired out. Many whales overheat under prolonged exertion; their blubber is too thick to shed excessive body heat fast enough. Once the animal was exhausted, the whalers closed in again and killed it with a lance—a smooth blade without barbs, called a lens in Dutch—aiming for lungs or heart. Basque whaling in the Bay of Biscay peaked around the mid-sixteenth century and declined soon after.
Besides chalupa, another Dutch/English borrowing from Basque is harpoon. It derives from the Basque verb apoi, meaning 'to grab' (Doedens & Mulder 2024).
Whale Rodeo in the Arctic Arena— Harpooner Jacob Dieukes from Assendelft in the province of Holland became the first recorded successful whale rodeo rider in history. In 1660, he threw his harpoon into a whale—and then fell overboard. The harpoon lines tangled around his lower body, binding him to the terrified, thrashing animal. The whale bolted, dragging Dieukes through the freezing Arctic waters. The men in the sloop struggled to keep up, but the whale was too fast. Three times it dove into the icy depths, each plunge testing Dieukes’ endurance as he held his breath like a rider on a wild horse. Finally, after the third dive, the harpoon slipped free. Dieukes grabbed his knife, cut himself loose. He was hauled back aboard, quickly clothed—before resuming the hunt. Well, Daryl Mills, chew on that!
The scene echoes Herman Melville’s Mob—Dick or The Whale, where the harpooner Fedallah is similarly tied to the white sperm whale. Fedallah, however, never survived the ordeal. Only Ishmael, the storyteller, did. Whether Melville drew inspiration from Dieukes’ historic ride remains unknown.
It was in the first quarter of the sixteenth century that the Basques began hunting whales in the Gulf of Saint Lawrence—known to them as la gran baya—along the coasts of Newfoundland and Labrador, Canada. The Strait of Belle Isle, in particular, became an important Basque whaling ground. At Red Bay, archaeological excavations have uncovered rendering stations, including the remains of tryworks.
Research suggests that although cod fishing was initially their main objective, whale hunting served as a secondary or fallback activity for the Basques between 1520 and 1530. From around 1540 onward, they began organizing dedicated whaling expeditions to the Gulf of Saint Lawrence, employing the same coastal hunting methods they had long used in the Bay of Biscay—a practice that dated back to the Middle Ages.
For a long time, the Basques managed to keep the locations of their cod fishing and whaling grounds secret. To this day, it remains uncertain when exactly they began fishing for cod in Canadian waters—was it before or after Christopher Columbus ‘discovered’ America in 1492? That question still lingers. In a way, it is not so different from today: ask a sport angler where they caught that trophy pikeperch or carp, and you are unlikely to get a straight answer.
Whales were still hunted by the Basques primarily for their meat, which was salted, but also for their oil. Train oil—or grasa de ballena—was used for lighting lamps and, when mixed with tar, for caulking ships.
The so-called Terra Nova industry reached its peak between 1560 and 1570. Each summer during this period, around twenty ships—carrying a total of some 2,000 men—sailed from the Basque Country to the cold Canadian shores. By 1620, however, this activity had come to an end. Scholars still debate the reasons for its decline. It may have resulted from overhunting, which led to a sharp reduction in right whale populations; in just fifty years, an estimated 20,000 whales were killed. Others point to external factors within Castile, such as wars, forced recruitment for the Armada, heavy taxation, and a fall in the price of train oil. The latter explanation seems more convincing, as commercial whaling soon revived elsewhere and once again became a profitable enterprise.
The preceding account illustrates how crucial Basque expertise was to the early Dutch and English whaling enterprises. The newcomers relied heavily on Basque experience and skill, and Basque sailors knew their worth—hiring them came at a high price. Between 1612 and 1639, more than a quarter of all whaling crews consisted of Basque officers. It is therefore unsurprising that the Dutch sought to acquire the necessary knowledge themselves as quickly as possible in order to reduce costs.
From 1640 to 1700, the Basque share of the crews declined sharply to just a few percent. Their places were increasingly taken by Frisians from the province of Friesland and from the region of Ostfriesland, as well as by seamen from the Frisian Wadden Sea islands—Ameland, Borkum, Terschelling, Texel, and Vlieland—and from most of the islands and Halligen of the the region of Nordfriesland.
Especially 'the march of the Troonbook' into the whaling branch was significant, as we will see further below in this blog post, when discussing the massive participation and representation of the Nordfriesen in the Arctic whale hunt. Troonbook, by the way, is a North Frisian word and translates as 'train-oil beacon,' referring to the penetrating smell of sailors when they returned home from whaling after many months at sea. To be more precise, the smell was a mixture of train oil, overcooked peas, and old sweat.
The same was true for the Wadden Sea island of Borkum. More than one hundred commanders came from there, including Roelof Gerritz. Meyer (1712–1798), who sailed forty-seven times to the Arctic and hunted 311 whales (Dirks 2023).
One Basque sailor deserves special mention: Jean Vrolicq, also known to the Dutch as Jan or Johannes Vrolyk. Claimed to have discovered Disco Island and the rich whaling grounds of Disco Bay in the year 1629. The French Cardinal Duke of Richelieu, convinced by Vrolicq’s promising reports, granted him a charter for whaling north of 60 degrees latitude. Commander Cornelis Pietersz. Ys from the Wadden Sea island of Vlieland, however, was less impressed by this cardinal privilege. In 1634, he confiscated five of Vrolicq’s hunting sloops and bluntly ordered the French Basque to seek his fortunes—and misfortunes—elsewhere (Doedens & Houter 2022).
Vrolicq’s claim to have discovered Disco Island, however, is undeserved. The true credit belongs to the Norseman Erik Thorvaldsson, better known as Erik the Red, who lived in the tenth century. The Viking settlers of Greenland used the island as a summer hunting ground, which they called Norðrsetur. Or perhaps, one might wonder, were the Irish monks there even earlier?
Anyway, the presence of the Dutch along the coasts of Greenland is clearly reflected in the many toponyms they left behind: Walvis Eilanden ('whale islands'), Honden Eilanden ('dog islands'), Vlakke Groene Eilanden ('flat green islands'), Fortuyn Baai ('fortune bay'), and Liefde Baai ('love bay')—some of which are still in use today (Baars-Visser et al 2022). What exactly took place at Liefde Baai, however, will be revealed further below.
4. Monopoly Whaling
The initial heart of commercial whaling lay with the wealthy merchants of the city of Amsterdam and the regions north of it—particularly the region of Zaan and the villages of Graft and De Rijp on the former island of Schermer, and to a lesser extent the regions of Waterland and Westfriesland, including De Zijpe. From the former island of Huisduinen, many commandeurs (whaling commanders) also originated, about whom we will say more later. All these areas are located in what is now the province of Noord Holland.
More broadly, by the end of the sixteenth century, the three coastal provinces of the Dutch Republic—Zeeland, Holland and West-Friesland, and Friesland—had together built the largest merchant fleet the world had ever seen up to that time.
Besides a long-standing seafaring tradition dating back to the Early Middle Ages (see our blog post Porcupines Bore U.S. Bucks: The Birth of Economic Liberalism), this coastal strip achieved its maritime dominance through innovations in shipbuilding. During the Dutch Republic, shipyards were able to produce standardized, and therefore cheaper, vessels, which helped the region dominate North Sea freight. A key example was the three-masted fluit ship also called flute, fluyt, or fly-boat—developed in the Westfrisian town of Hoorn. Its impact on shipping was comparable to the black-painted Ford Model T rolling off the assembly lines in Detroit from 1908 onward. As Henry Ford famously said: “Any customer can have a car painted any colour that he wants so long as it is black.”
With the introduction of cheap fluit ships, the Dutch Republic became a leader particularly in the maritime trade of grain, wood, and salt. Beyond the assembly-line-style production, these vessels featured several innovations: large cargo capacity, no armament, and the ability to operate with a small crew. Living and sleeping quarters were shared by the entire crew, regardless of rank—a rarity at the time. In a way, one could even see it as a precursor to today’s much-loved concept of hot-desking or flex office spaces. All of these features reduced costs and increased profits.
By around 1600, the Republic had indisputably become the center of world trade. Crowded Amsterdam teemed with investors and capital eager for new business opportunities. Reports from the Arctic proved financially promising, and these money-makers were equally eager to invest in commercial whaling.
The beginning of whaling in 1612 quickly led to conflicts among ships from different countries operating in the waters around the Spitsbergen archipelago. In addition, to strengthen their position against the English Muscovy Company, several Dutch merchants petitioned the States General of the Republic for an octroy (charter). In 1614, a three-year charter was granted, which stated:
van Nova Sembla tot Fretum Davids toe, daeronder begrepen Spitsbergen, Beereneylant, Groenlandt ende andere eylanden, die onder de voorsz. Limieten souden mogen gevonden worden
from Novaya Zemlya to Davis Strait, including Spitsbergen [i.e., modern Svalbard], Beereneylant [i.e. modern Bjørnøya], Greenland and other islands, which may be found within the aforementioned limitations
The charter was renewed in 1617, 1622, 1623, and for a final time in 1634. By 1642, the charter expired, and from that point onward, whaling became a fully open, private enterprise.
The 1614 charter marked the founding of the Noordsche Compagnie ('northern company'), somewhat analogous to the earlier VOC and the West-Indische Compagnie (WIC). Initially, the Noordsche Compagnie consisted of five sections, the so-called kamers ('chambers'), representing the cities of Amsterdam, Delft, Enkhuizen, Hoorn, and Rotterdam. In 1617, a separate, smaller company was established following the discovery of Jan Mayen Island a few years earlier. In 1623, this smaller company was merged into the larger Noordsche Compagnie.
Later, in 1635, the kamer of the town of Harlingen was added to the Compagnie. This after a serious conflict between States General of the Republic in The Hague and the States of Province Friesland, because Friesland was denied participation by the Noordsche Compagnie. A year before, the province of Friesland had created leverage in their quarrel with Holland by unilaterally granting a charter to Hilbrand Dircksz., a burgomaster in the port of Harlingen, and to Wijbe Jansz., a burgomaster in the port of Stavoren. Both got their own kamer (Doedens & Houter 2022). Soon after, the States General in The Hague turned around. Frisians were accepted, and the kamer of Harlingen was added to the Noordsche Compagnie. The kamer of Harlingen probably was housed at the north end of the Zuiderhaven docks (Otten 2022).
The Noordsche Compagnie set up whaling stations on Spitsbergen, Jan Meyen Island, and on Beereneiland. In the north-west of the Spitsbergen archipelago were three factorijen ‘factories’ or landing stations, i.e., small seasonal settlements. These tryworks annex settlements were Smeerenburg ‘smear burg’ on Amsterdam Island, Harlinger Traankokerij ‘Harlingen oil factory’ on Deenseiland, and Zeeuwse Uytkyck ‘Zeeland look out’ on the northern-most point of the archipelago. So, every Dutch coastal province had its own base. The English concentrated their activities in the south of the Spitsbergen archipelago, and is where their tryworks were established. That way both countries could co-exist in the otherwise vast ice seas.
After some less-equable Basques had plundered the company’s storage on Spitsbergen in the year 1632, the Noordsche Compagnie, not lacking innovative and gutsy ideas, even tried to keep a presence in the Arctic all year round. It was a disastrous, and maybe not too smart, undertaking. Seven men stayed the winter on Jan Mayen Island in 1633. They all died. At Smeerenburg on Spitsbergen, the overwintering succeeded that year. The men were able to find enough scurvy-grass in time for crucial vitamin C intake which prevented, indeed, the illness of scurvy. Scurvy-grass a day, keeps the doctor away. The year after, however, all seven men left again at again at Smeerenburg died a horrible death. After that, the overwintering idea in the Arctic was put to bed by the company for good. But it is OK to make mistakes, is what every manager is taught to say to its team. At least you have tried.
Besides Spitsbergen and Jan Mayen Island, men would stay the winter on Beereneiland too. This, however, involuntary after shipwreck. It was the Frisian helmsman Lambert Pietersz. Geweldt from the Wadden Sea island of Vlieland who survived a horrible winter. He stayed from 3 November 1700 till 16 July 1701 on Beereneiland. Sleeping in an improvised tent, sometimes enduring temperatures of almost 30 degree Celsius below freezing. Geweldt and his men fed on foxes, bears, birds, eggs, and walrus. And, just in time in the month June, some scurfy grass, because they all suffered of scurvy very badly already. Only four of the ten men survived (Doedens & Houter 2022). Indeed, what a way to celebrate the turn of a century.
Typical routine of whalers was that they left with their ships in spring and returned well after summer. The route they sailed was from the Wadden Sea island of Texel to the archipelago of Shetland. From there the ships sailed to the Spitsbergen archipelago, Jan Mayen Island, and Beereneiland. Shetland, by the way, was called Hitland by the Dutch. This name is copied from the Faroese language in which it is named Hetland.
As soon as the ships had left from the Texel anchorage, the so-called vleet or armazoen was distributed among the crew. The armazoen, provided by the ship owner, was the whale hunting equipment, like harpoons, lances, and uncountable different types of whale-cutter knives. Everyone had to prepare and sharpen their own knives, etc, and split their own hunting ropes. They had to be ready once they entered the Arctic seas. Sloops were prepared for immediate action too. When the command Val! Val! was shouted, all sloops, often six in total, had to be manned instantly. Six to seven men in every sloop. As the sailors said: “because the whale would not wait for them”. The Dutch word val means ‘to fall/to drop’. If the hunt was unsuccessful, the whalers spoke of a loose val 'futile fall'. Total crew on board a whaling ship amounted around forty-five men, all listed on the monster rolle 'muster roll'. Muster rolls were drawn-up by an official named waterschout 'water sheriff'. Know that a fluit ship in regular marine trade only needed about fifteen men to sail it. So, whale hunting with a crew of forty-five was all about intensive, and relatively costly business.
Note that on board whaling ships the command was not in the hands of a kapitein 'captain' but of a commandeur 'commander'. Owner of the enterprise itself was called a directeur 'director' or boekhouder 'bookkeeper'. Apart from commanding the ship at sea, the commander was also responsibly for recruiting his crew. Often, these men were family members and trusted, familiar faces from the village or area, supplemented with men from further away, as far as Germany. Interviewing potential crew typically took place at the local tavern. If the applicant was hired, he received some earnest money called wijnkoop 'wine purchase' to buy warm clothing and purchase some personal supplies like tobacco (Baars-Visser et al 2022).
From 1719 onward, when hunting grounds were expanded into Davis Strait at the west coast of Greenland, they sailed west from Shetland to Statenhoek, the southernmost point of Greenland. From there they sailed up north into the strait. All in all, it took them a month and a half to reach these far away hunting grounds.
Top 10 dangers for whalers
pack-ice
ice bergs
heavy storms
the hunt itself
scurvy
pirates and privateers (French and Spanish)
illnesses
mutiny
Inuit
sea monsters (unverified)
Reliable statistics concerning the numbers and percentages of seamen who died are not available. The recorded shipwrecks and deaths show it was a much safer job than sailing with the VOC to the West. In this line of business a mortality rate of fifty percent was pretty normal. Of course, then they were longer away, so the time at risk increased, too.
From the late 1630s, profits of the Noordsche Compagnie were in decline. Main reasons for it was climate change. Yes, already back then. The climate had become warmer. Therefore, the rim of the pack-ice moved more to the north. Whales forage especially at the fringes of the ice. This meant whales had to be caught further out at sea (Hacquebord 2019). Because the charter of the Noordsche Compagnie only extended to the shores of land and islands, given Grotius' concept of mare liberum mentioned earlier, the company could not benefit from its monopoly anymore. Hence, many more whaling ships were financed by Dutch businessmen to hunt at open sea: ‘hvalfangst i no man’s land‘.
The Noordsche Compagnie did petition for a new charter, this time for the whole Arctic. But the States General in The Hague principally declined the request. As a result, a fierce competition developed at high sea. No longer merely with foreign nations like the English and French, but now also with ships financed by the Dutch themselves. A fre market. Cooperation among the kamers became poor, and it was everyone for themselves. As said, in the year 1642 the charter expired and was not extended anymore. Despite the Noordsche Compagnie had lost its monopoly, the kamer of Amsterdam kept functioning as an enterprise until 1658, and the kamer of Harlingen a bit longer until 1662.
Whaling was an important source of revenue for the port town of Harlingen. When looking at its value, train oil was the most import export commodity of Harlingen in the mid-seventeenth century. Between 1641 and 1660, at least seven skippers from Harlingen where at the whaling. In the notarial archives of Amsterdam over the period 1640-1664, at least twenty skippers from Harlingen have been identified (Doedens & Houter 2022).
Given that whales had to be caught much further away from the islands, it also meant dead whales could no longer be dragged to the landing stations to be processed into train oil promptly. Distances were too great and it would be too time consuming. Efficiency demanded that whales were being processed at high sea henceforth. Also, a dead whale decays quickly. As a result the stations on the Spitsbergen archipelago were abandoned in the 1650s. The last one that was abandoned, was in the year 1660. Although whales from then on were cut at high sea, they did not cook the blubber on board the ships. This would too risky for burning the ship down. After the blubber was cut off, it was conserved in airtight barrels to be cooked back at home.
Dissecting the whale at sea was a very dangerous activity. First, the animal was fixed on the port side of the ship with its tail to the bow. Speksnijders would then cut the whale with long, ultra-sharp knives while standing on the greasy, slippery animal that bobbed on the waves. For this task, the speksnijders received a bonus called ontweigeld, which translates as 'disembowel money' (Doedens & Mulder 2024).
In Herman Melville's novel Moby-Dick or The Whale (1851) a paragraph is dedicated to the speksnijder. He explains that the English word specksionier is derived from the Dutch maritime word specksnyder. On board the Dutch Arctic whaling ships the captain (i.e. commander) only was in charge of the navigation and the general management of the ship. The specksionier, also called first harpooner, was in charge of the hunt and everything connected to it, including the cutting of the fat. The performance of the specksionier/first harpooner was of paramount importance to the success of the enterprise.
5. Free Whaling for Everyone
From the end of the 1630’s, whaling is booming business. In the year 1650, the English Muscovy Company stepped out of the whaling industry. It was in a state of bankruptcy due to worsened bilateral relations between England and the Tsardom of Russia. England would only re-enter the whaling business modestly in the second quarter of the eighteenth century. However, around the mid-eighteenth century, England had equalled the Republic in volume already, and would take over the leading position from then on. The English whaling industry was heavily subsidized by the state. This had a strategic military purpose, namely to have sailors at the whaling as de facto reservists for the navy when needed. Availability of enough sailors on warships on short notice, was always a real concern for navies.
In the period between 1670 and 1730, whaling was at its peak. Every season, between 150 and 250 ships were fitted out from the Republic for the hunt, sometimes even as many as 300. Over the whole eighteenth century, an average of 260 ships went whaling in the Arctic every year (Leinenga 2015). In the period before the year 1642, only between 300 and 400 whales were caught; after that, numbers skyrocketed to circa 2,000 every year.
The Republic also started whaling on the other side of the Pond, in their fresh colony of New Netherland. In 1629, the West-Indische Compagnie (WIC) 'Dutch West India Company' bought land in Delaware Bay from the Lenape native tribe. Among other with an aim at commercial whaling (Romm 2010). The piece of land in Delaware Bay is where the settlement of Swaanendael was founded, the modern town of Lewes, and is where the Dutch would start hunting whales in the year 1631. The eighty, first settlers from the Republic at the new settlement of Swaanendael even left for the Americas with a ship called De Walvis 'the whale' in the year 1630. Coincidence? However, it turned out to be a disaster. Most of the settlers were killed by the Lenape soon after their arrival in 1632, possibly due to a misunderstanding. In the year that followed, another attempt was made to start whaling in Delaware Bay, also at Cape May (Degener 2012). But these settlers lacked the skills and decent quality harpoons to hunt whales properly. No Basques there to teach them. Despite whaling did not develop in the New Netherland colony into a business, it is the start of American whaling history nevertheless. Of course, if we leave out potential earlier but undocumented Basque's hunting activity.
Besides the Republic, also the free cities of Bremen and, especially, Hamburg along the southern coast of the North Sea, participated in the whaling too. That was when the charter of the Noordsche Compagnie ended. These cities fitted out about sixty ships every season. From the mid-fifteenth century, Bremen and Hamburg claimed to be a Freie Reichsstadt, free imperial cities, not belonging to any duchy or lord. Their way of doing business was comparable with that of the Republic, and many connections and relations existed between both. From 1640, the city of Hamburg had its own landing station and trywork on the western shores of the Spitsbergen archipelago, called Hamburg-Bucht, or in the Dutch language Hamburger Baaytje. Like the Republic, the ‘German’ cities of Bremen and Hamburg also preferred the principle of international free maritime trade. This contrary to Denmark, England, and Sweden, which adhered (and adhere) mercantilism, a protective trade policy. De term 'German' is written between quotations marks, because in the eighteenth century there was no such thing as a German state yet. Only a collection of principalities, counties and (free) cities.
What about the Danes?
Danish whaling started with the Dutch in the lead. Johan or Jan de Villum from the Republic. In the year 1614, he was granted a the right to hunt whales in the Arctic. Four years later, De Villum and the Dane Jens Munk start together a whaling company. In 1917, yet another Dutchman, Herman Rosenkrantz from Rotterdam, was one of the founders of a different Danish whaling company. Both companies were minor players, and each send a ship to the Spitsbergen archipelago in 1619. A year later, Johan Braem, again a Dutchman in Denmark, became director of the Greenlandic Company. This company was not a success, and in 1652 the Greenlandic Company was liquidated (Christensen 2021).
After these Dutch-Danish enterprises, it took the Danes until the last quarter of the eighteenth century to engage in whaling in an organized fashion. After apparently giving it much and long consideration, their king founded the Kongelige Grønlandske Handel 'royal Greelandic trade' (KGH) as late as in the year 1774. A company founded in a time when meanwhile Arctic whaling was in its waning days. This distinguished royal enterprise bought eight ships that year, and the following year another eight. Denmark unilaterally declared that its royal company had monopoly over Greenland and the Spitsbergen archipelago, including sailing on its shores. In real life, however, a sweet fleet of sixteen was no match for the German cities, and certainly not for the Republic and England. To illustrate this, in the year 1776 the Republic still sent out 123 ships to the Arctic, and the free city of Hamburg fifty-one. By the way, twelve of the sixteen Danish ships were under command of Nordfriesen, seafarers mostly from islands Föhr and Sylt. More about the Nordfriesen further below. There was more to say about the success of the KGH. When in 1776 it ordered harpoons and stuff, the quality was very poor. According to the North-Frisian commanders, these harpoons already broke when thrown against a piece of thin glass, and therefore considered unusable.
The above is not entirely fair to the Danes. There were private persons who were involved with whaling until 1775. Especially, the merchant Jacob Severin who had received the exclusive right to hunt whales for Denmark and their province Norway. Both countries were constitutional united under the Danish monarchy. Severin was in practice viceroy of Greenland for long. But, at the end these privileged individuals were not able to punch themselves a way out of a paper bag when it came to setting up a profitable whaling business.
The fluit ships of the Republic were being adjusted as well halfway the seventeenth century. Ships were regularly sandwiched by pack-ice. As such not so bad. As soon as the wind turned, they could free themselves again from the embrace of ice. Things only became dangerous when the wind would continue to blow from one direction only, and was strong as well. Then, pressure on the ship became too strong, and the ice would crush the ship. On average about four percent of the ships were lost on a yearly basis (Feddersen 1991). To give more protection, bow and hull of fluit ships were strengthened with a second skin, called verdubbelen ‘to double’. This ijshuid ‘ice skin’ protected the ship better against drifting ice and icebergs. Albeit, having a whale carcass between ship and pack-ice was still the best protection against pressing ice, according to seafarers. Also, facilities were added to the ship to carry six or seven hunting sloops.
At the end of the seventeenth century, another ship type was introduced, the bootschiff or bootschip ‘boat-ship. It had, among other, a robust bow and, in comparison to the fluit ship, a broader deck. A wider deck was necessary because, as said, the blubber had to be processed at sea from the mid-seventeenth century onward. Cutting and storing the blubber onboard the ship needed more working space on deck. The bootschip was the standard whaling ship of the eighteenth century. Later the brig ship type followed, in the Dutch language brik, and in the German language Brigg.
Because whale populations decreased in the seas around Spitsbergen, Jan Mayen Island and Beereneiland, new happy hunting grounds had to be found. In the year 1669, the average catch per ship was eight whales. In 1789, only two. Averages of catches went up and down, but with a clear, undeniable downward trend. To give the reader an impression: 1669 — 8 whales; 1691 — 2.5 whales; 1701 — 5.8 whales; 1728 — 1.1 whales; 1744 — 4 whales; 1762 — 1.5 whales; 1781 — 4.2 whales; 1789 — 2 whales. The investment paid off if ships returned with at least four whales (Leinenga 2015). Of course, everything depending on current (vegetarian) oil prices, and especially if they had sailed longer for the west coast of Greenland too, and thus had made more costs for labour wages and victuals.
From the year 1719, ships from the Republic started whaling west of Greenland, in Davis Strait, often called Davidstraat. At the west coast of Greenland, two sea currents meet. A warm current from the south running along the coast of Greenland, and a cold current, the Labrador Current, entering from the northern Baffin Bay. Where the warm and cold currents meet, there is bounty plankton. So, great forage spots for baleen whales, and thus excellent hunting grounds. Whales were in general also still bigger and fatter at the west coast of Greenland than around the Spitsbergen archipelago, which had to do with the fact that whale populations of the latter had been overhunted for quite some time already. Normally, around the start of the month May, the Disco Bay in Davis Strait would be ice free, and a prime spot to start whaling. Then, gradually moving north with the seasonal retreat of the ice. Late June, the hunting season in Davis Strait came to an end.
It was the Frisian seafarer Laurens Feyjes Haan from the Wadden Sea island of Terschelling who had sailed since 1708 on a yearly basis to these waters west of Greenland for trade. The islanders of Terschelling were bartering with the Inuit of Greenland during much of the seventeenth century. In 1719, Haan published a book with directions how to navigate to Davis Strait. And lo and behold, whalers immediately moved west. The Inuit, called wilden ‘wildings’, wildemannen 'wilde men', or Groenlanders ‘Greenlanders’ by the Dutch, were described in the mid-sixteenth century as a people who ate their fish raw. Furthermore, that they loved raw meat and the fat of seals. Bird eggs were being boiled so hard until they turned blue. Sprat and mullet was cooked too. Lamps were made with moss and oil from seals. Of course, Greenland was he territory of Denmark, and the Kompagni til Grønlands besejling 'the Greenland company' was trading with it. However, much of the higher ranks on Danish merchant and war ships during the early modern period originated from the Republic. Like cartographer Joris Carolus and David Urbanis Dannel, who were captains of the Kompagni, and sailing in the second quarter of the seventeenth century between Denmark and Greenland already (Christensen 2021).
Because the waters of Davis Strait were much further away from patria ‘home country’ and it therefore took longer for ship to be at sea for the same time to catch, this was, as said, a more costly hunting ground. On average to get to the west coast of Greenland took six weeks. Often sailing along coasts or archipelagos like Orkney, Shetland, the Faroes or the Norwegian coast. This also offered the possibility to have some additional, fresh supplies.
6. Origins of Whalers
The whole whaling business had become an efficient and reasonable lucrative business from the mid-seventeenth century. At least, it generated quite a lot of employ. Vacancies that could not be filled entirely by the hinterlands of the Republic and the city of Hamburg. So, contract workers were attracted. But who were these contract workers from elsewhere?
A first general observation is the broader picture of the origins of seafarers in the merchant marine of the Dutch Republic. Around the year 1710, at the height of power of the Republic, about seventy-five percent of the seafarers was from the Republic itself. Of this, about forty-seven percent came from the province of Friesland, including the Wadden Sea islands. From the twenty-five percent who came from abroad, forty-three percent came from the region of Ostfriesland, including the Wadden Sea islands, and from the Duchy of Schleswig, i.e., essentially the region of Nordfriesland. The overall picture, therefore, is that during the heydays of the Republic, nearly half of its merchant marine was Frisian of origin. Take also into consideration that the population density in the Frisian regions of provenance was much lower than in the province of Holland. Frisians, therefore, still were a sea people par excellence. And to think we have not taken the massive inland navigation into consideration yet. For being a water people, Frisians can shake hands with Basques; besides shaking hands for having issues with kings, central governments and being scattered over several countries as well.
A second general remark on the background of the whalers is, that the religious faith of relatively many was Anabaptism. The reason for it is simple, once you see it. Anabaptists denounce the use of violence. Hence, neither the Admiralties, nor the quasi-militaristic merchant ships of the VOC and the WIC were an option. Another, theoretical option for the Anabaptists would have been working in the fisheries. However, manning of herring busses was exclusively available for men from the local fishing village. No import accepted. At best someone from another, neighbouring fishing village.
So, self-employment through private businesses or, indeed, working in the non-armed whaling industry, were credible options for these pacifists, denouncers of violence. Relatively many of them lived in the province of Friesland, the region of Ostfriesland, and on the Frisian Wadden Sea islands. Think of Menno Simons and the Mennonites, who originate from this region too. Of course, their rejection of violence only concerned violence against other humans. Not against other mammals paddling with fins and flippers through the icy seas.
Zakkoek, a real treat — The last whaling ship was the Dirkje Adema from the port town of Harlingen in 1862. Some notes have been preserved concerning the diet. One thing is zakkoek which literally translates as ‘sack cake/cookie’. The batter was made with brewer’s yeast, and perhaps with raisins. It took many hours to prepare. It was hung au-bain-marie in a linen sack on the ceiling of the caboose the day before. Every Wednesday and Sunday the men got zakkoek. They loved it!
It is a dish of the northern provinces of the Netherlands and has many other names, like: ketelkoek (‘kettle cake’), Jan in de Zak (‘Jan in the sack’), Witte Zuster (‘white nurse’), Broeder (‘male nurse’), Blinde Dirk (‘blind Dirk’), Poffert, Boffert and Trommelkoek (‘lunch-box cake’). Sometimes served with butter and syrup. We are curious whether other regions along the Wadden Sea coast are familiar with this recipe too. Let us know.
Over the period 1612-1639, so from the start of commercial whaling until the end of the Noordsche Compagnie, by far the most commanders came from the northern part of the province of Holland. More specific, from Amsterdam and the area north of the city. About eighty percent of the commanders came from Holland. Nearly twenty percent came from the province of Friesland or the southern Frisian Wadden Sea islands. In absolute numbers they were twenty-eight Frisian commanders. Over the period 1640-1665, the share of Frisian commanders increased strongly. The percentage of commanders from Holland dropped to about fifty-five percent, whilst that of the Frisian commanders reached nearly forty percent. In absolute numbers, they were 385 Frisian commanders.
Overall the seventeenth century, when focussing on the Dutch Republic, it were the islanders of Vlieland and, to a lesser extent, of Terschelling who provided the most commanders. Research into maritime freighting contracts over the period 1640-1664 showed that the most commanders, 59 in total, came from the island of Vlieland. The port town of Stavoren followed with 54, the big city of Amsterdam with (a meagre) 50, and the island of Terschelling with 36 commanders. An estimated 100 ships from the island of Vlieland operated in the Arctic around the year 1650. The explanation as to why islanders of Vlieland were so heavily represented, is because these islanders already had a large fleet trading with especially the Baltic Sea before commercial whaling started. Their ships, galiots, and fluit ships, were multi-purpose vessels (Doedens & Houter 2022).
After 1700, the representation of commanders from the Wadden Sea island of Vlieland decreased strongly. Many commanders came from the village of Westeynde at the western end of the island. Westeynde was slowly swallowed by the sea from the second half of the seventeenth century, and definitely deserted in the year 1736. Many of the inhabitants resettled on the former island of Huisduinen in the north of the province of Holland. In the second half of the seventeenth century, Huisduinen provided about thirty percent of the commanders, and with this the main provider of commanders at the whaling. And why is that, you think?
A similar development as with the commanders can be witnessed concerning the crew of whalers. Over the period 1612-1639, nearly sixty percent originated from the province of Holland and the region of West-Friesland. Again, mainly from the city of Amsterdam and the region north of it. About thirty percent came from Basque Country. A mere eight percent from the province of Friesland and from the Frisian southern Wadden Sea islands. This image totally changes in the years after that. Over the period 1640-1700, almost sixty-five percent came from the province of Holland and the region of West-Friesland. The share of Frisians at the whaling had increased to roughly a third, including from the Frisian Wadden Sea island. The first Nordfriesen from the island of Föhr start entering the records as well in this period. The expensive Basques had been made superfluous in the meantime, and were reduced to a measly two percent of all crew.
The composition concerning the origins of the whaling crew over this period, shows some similarities with the northern Arkangelsk navigation. In this northern Russian trade, fifty-five percent originated from the province of Holland and the region of West-Friesland, and thirty-six percent from the province of Friesland, again including the Frisian southern Wadden Sea islands.
Over the eighteenth century until the first quarter of the nineteenth century, the picture becomes even more dramatic when it comes to the share of Frisians at the whaling. Half of the crew came from the northern coast of Germany, especially the regions of Ostfriesland and Nordfriesland, and from the German-Frisian Wadden Sea islands. Only a third came from the Republic itself, of which about eight percent came from Friesland or the Frisian Wadden Sea islands. So, as a rough indication, during much of the eighteenth century, Frisians from the various Frisian regions of provenance, represented about fifty to sixty percent of all the whaling crew on ships of the Republic. Concerning this observation, the region of West-Friesland as part of the province of Holland, is not considered as a separate Frisian region.
The Wadden Sea islands also contributed significantly concerning whaling commanders. Of the 1,250 commanders in the eighteenth century, no less than 490 came from the Frisian Wadden Sea islands. The main islands were Föhr with 128, Ameland with 121, Terschelling with 88, Texel with 75, and Borkum with 65 commanders. But also the island of Vlieland was still supplying the navigation with commanders and crew, but not as much as the century before. Furthermore, still many commanders from (the northern part of) the province of Holland, of course. And, again, keep in mind that commanders from the former island of Huisduinen in the province of Holland were, in fact, resettled islanders from the island of Vlieland.
7. Island Nordfriesen
The first phase of whaling, from 1612 until around 1660, basically went past the region of Nordfriesland. During the whole era of whaling, Nordfriesen never fitted out any ships. Even if they would have considered it, competition from the free cities of Altona, Amsterdam, Hamburg, Glückstadt, and Bremen would have been too fierce. And you need businessmen and investors with money. Only a modest effort was made at the town of Husum, but it did not last. It is in the course of the eighteenth century that the number of Nordfriesen seamen in the whaling strongly increased.
Die Inselfriesen als eifrige und tüchtige Wallfischfänger
The Island-Frisians as eager and capable whalers (Chronik der friesisichen Uthlande, 1856)
Relations between the region of Nordfriesland and the Republic dated already from before the Nordfriesen joined the whaling industry. From the first half of the seventeenth century, Nordfriesen were involved in the maritime trade of especially the transport of Danish oxen and Scandinavian timber to the Republic. Important harbour from where the beef trade of oxen bred in the area of southern Jutland were transported to the Republic was the town of Ribe. With their smack ships, also called smakschepen or smackschiffen, which were small and flat-bottomed ships suitable for sailing over the shallow Wadden Sea, they did most of the transport. In modest numbers, Nordfriesen worked for the VOC and the Admiralties as well.
Because of the intensive trade in oxen and timber, many connections existed with the region of West-Friesland, among other the towns of Enkhuizen, Hoorn, and with Amsterdam (Christensen 2021). Not only Föhrer, i.e. Nordfriesen from the island of Föhr, were involved in this maritime trade. Also, Nordfriesen from the island of Nordstrand, and from the towns of Husum, Møltønder, and Tønder. Furthermore, men from the islands of Oland and Rømø were involved, too. From around the year 1660, more and more Nordfriesen, again mainly from the island of Föhr, settled in Amsterdam. We know this also from analyses of the Amsterdam city records concerning marriages. A lot of North-Frisian grooms pop up in the records. By the way, many Föhrer lived in the neighbourhood Oude Teertuinen ‘old tar-gardens’, what is today Prins Hendrikkade St. in Amsterdam. Prins Hendrikkade St. was also the spot where the daily market-ferry with the town of Hindeloopen in the south-west of the province of Friesland moored (Van Doorn 2021). Yet another connection with the province of Friesland.
When Nordfriesen signed up for whaling in the Republic, they received free-of-charge Dutch personal names. Apparently, the North-Frisian names were too difficult for the Dutch to handle. Or, is it Dutch cultural conservative nature which prefers to keep things as they are? An impression of how names were converted into the Dutch speech:
Arfst—Adriaen; Erk—Dirk; Früd—Frederik; Girre—Gerrit; Hark—Hendrik; Hay—Hendrik; Jap—Jacob; Ketel—Cornelis; Nahmen—Nanning; Ocke—Adriaen; Rörd—Riewert; Sönk—Simon; Tay—Teunis; Tücke—Teunis; Wögen—Willem (Faltings 2011). This also complicates historic research to identify the cloaked Nordfriesen in the records.
Reason why Nordfriesen started to take part in the whale hunt was because after the charter of the Noordsche Compagnie was no longer renewed, whaling had become a completely free enterprise within the Republic from 1642 onward. The Republic was the key player in North Atlantic whaling. From 1642, everyone with money could buy shares, so-called parten, of a whaling ship. Parten were fixed at fractions of 1/8, 1/16, 1/32, and 1/64. Wealthy merchants, shipyards, and investors in the Republic had enough resources to set up yet another shipping company and/or to buy a part of a whaling expedition. Whaling became booming, and thus much labour with maritime expertise was needed. This was the sign the Nordfriesen were waiting for, and they entered the whaling business with full dedication and domination.
Sometimes it is being argued the reason for the Nordfriesen to step in, was the fact that France forbade in the year 1633 the Basques from sailing with whaling ships of the Republic. In reality, however, this was not the true reason. Enrolment of Basques on Dutch whaling ships continued between 1625 and 1641, even until 1669 (Hacquebord 1999).
Another explanation often given why Nordfriesen entered the whaling business in large numbers, in combination with the former reason, is the storm flood of 1634; the Burchardi flood. This Grote Mandränke ‘great drowning of men’, as it is locally remembered, devastated much of the southern North Sea coast, and hit the region of Nordfriesland notably hard. Between 8,000 and 15,000 people drowned in a single day. Hallig-island Strand was shattered into pieces, of which only a few smaller hallig-islands remained. Of the about 9,100 inhabitants of Strand, about 6,100 drowned. Moreover, Strand was the granary of the region of Nordfriesland as well. As a consequence the great loss of land led also to great poverty. Whaling as a means of support was part of the solution to survive.
By the year 1700, already around 3,600 Nordfriesen were at the whaling. Most of them from the Wadden Sea islands of Sylt and Föhr, but also from the hallig islands and the Wadden Sea island of Rømø. Above, out of every twenty or thirty Nordfriesen one was a commander. The golden age of the Nordfriesen in the whale hunt was between 1745 and 1785. During this period about twenty-five percent of all the Island Nordfriesen worked at sea on a whaling ship. In the top year 1762, almost 1,200 men from the island of Föhr embarked on whaling ships. In practice this meant nearly all adult men, except the elderly, was a whaler. Mid-eighteenth century was also the turning point when whale hunting nog longer was sustainable. After a century of killing more whales than the natural population growth, the tipping point was around 1750, when populations decreased strongly and the industry no longer was profitable (Baars-Visser et al 2022).
According to the Chronik der friesisichen Uthlande (Hansen 1856) in the period 1673-1713 the Island-Frisians provided the Dutch and German Greenland navigation a contingent between 3,000-4,000 Matrosen, Speckschneidern, Harpunieren, Boots- und Steuermännern, including many commanders, especially on the Hamburg fleet.
The Nordfriesen were highly valued for their sailing and navigation skills. That much even, that they climbed to the maritime top. Many of them became helmsman or commander on ships fitted out in the Republic and the city of Hamburg, and later by the Danes. In the year 1762, forty-three commanders were Nordfriesen. Probably it is no exaggeration to state that without the Nordfriesen the whaling industries of the Republic and the city of Hamburg would not have been able to man their ships (Holm 2003).
Private Navigation Schools Nordfriesland — The region of Nordfriesland had a unique system how to learn their youth to navigate. Especially on island Föhr and later also Sylt, but also on the mainland of the region of Nordfriesland. These were private schools run at homes of former sailors to educate them against a modest tariff, i.e. a shilling per day and the costs for heating. Mostly, the education started in winter and in evenings. It is because of these homeschool skills in piloting, celestial navigation and mathematics in general were high. That is why Nordfriesen were able to obtain the position of commander and helmsman on foreign ships, notably those from the Republic and from the River Elbe region. The study books were in either the German or Dutch language. Because it was a fully local affair, teachings happened in the North-Frisian language. After private teaching, the students went to maritime academies of, for example, Copenhagen and Hamburg to do a state exam. The Nordfriesen were known to be the best.
This private navigation school system existed for two centuries. In 1864, it ended. The reason for it was, as often, politics. Prussia conquered the region Schleswig from the Danes. This meant the whole region of Nordfriesland became part of Prussia. Three years later, the navigation schools were abolished. For education in navigation, students had to go to the mainland. These institutions were far away, the training took longer, and, above all, they were expensive. About 1,000 Mark for nine months. Perhaps the private island school were also closed by the new government because they were hotbeds of anti-Prussian occupation as well, and therefore abolished. The downfall of the private navigation school meant that the Nordfriesen turned away from seafaring and looked for other income opportunities, including emigration to the United States. Furthermore, in that same year 1867 the Island Nordfriesen were obliged to fulfil military service in the Prussian army. Something which they were exempted from under Danish rule. It is thought that the military service was also a reason for young men to emigrate to New York and California.
Navigation instruction the Netherlands — Also in the Netherlands, sea navigation traditionally was thought by former captains and commanders, and by (former) teachers of mathematics. Here, already in 1785 a maritime school was founded in Amsterdam, the so-called 'kweekschool voor de Zeevaart'. At the port town of Harlingen, in 1818 a maritime school was established. This school still exists as the 'Maritieme Academy Holland'.Furthermore, on the Wadden Sea islands of Texel, Vlieland, Terschelling and Schiermonnikoog, navigations schools existed in the nineteenth century, Only the one on island Terschelling survived and is known today as 'Maritiem Instituut Willem Barentsz'. Other navigation schools existed at Delfzijl, Groningen, Den Helder, Vlissingen, and Rotterdam. In other words, except Amsterdam, Rotterdam and Vlissingen, the north had the most, albeit smaller, schools.
Students at Harlingen, locally known as zeebaby's (sea babies), mostly were from the lower class. Just like the instruction in the region of Nordfriesland, this took place in the winter. During the sailing season, men and kids, the age of thirteen was no exception, had to work on ships. When the winter was mild and there was no ice, attendance at school dropped too, because students kept working at sea or in inland shipping.
Relevant textbooks — One of the most important maritime tutorials in the Republic but also for Nordfriesen, is the book of Claes, or Klaas de Vries (1662-1730) titled Schat-kamer ofte konst der stier-lieden ‘treasury or the art of helmsmen’ published in 1702.It was still being used around 1820.Claes de Vries was a cartographer, mathematician and maritime expert, and originated from Leeuwarden in the province of Friesland. A ‘schatkamer’ was a common term used for a manuscript with personal notes relating to maritime themes (Bruijn 2016). Another well-known book was written by Pybo Steenstra (1731?-1788), Grondbeginselen des stuurmanskunst ‘fundamentals of steerage’ published in 1766. Pybo Steenstra was born in Franeker in the province of Friesland. A final two important navigation manuals were: t Vergulde licht der zeevaert 'the golden light of sea navigation' written by Claes Hindrickz. Gietermaker in 1660, and Nieuw en Groote Zee-Spiegel 'new and great mirror' written by Caspar Lootsmans in 1680. Also navigation schools in Copenhagen, Hamburg, Christiana (modern Oslo), Porsgrund, and Danzig, educated their students with these Dutch (text)books, mirrors and manuals (Christensen 2021).
In the beginning of February, the commanders sailed in smack ships from the region of Nordfriesland to Amsterdam and the River Elbe, Hamburg. To prepare their ships. The journey to Hamburg took three days, that to Amsterdam seven. A few weeks later, the lower ranking sailors left too. In convoys of ten to fourteen smack ships. More than a 1,000 Föhrer went whaling. Often a commander selected most of his crew from his own, familiar village or island. So, a commander from the island of Föhr sailed with a crew of mostly other Föhrer. A commander from the island of Vlieland selected most of his crew from his island, too. And so forth, and so forth.
Some say the yearly departure of the men from the region of Nordfriesland leaving their women behind, is the origin of the so-called Biikebrånen or Biikin tradition. This is the feast whereby stacks of wood are lit on the shores of Nordfriesland. It takes place in the night of 21 February. These bon fires allegedly are the beacons of the woman who wanted to guide their men as long as possible. Read our blog post Burn Beacon Burn. A Coastal Inferno—Nordfriesland to read more about this festival, where we present also an alternative explanation for this festival.
With that many men away on whale hunt, the women of many Wadden Sea islands, and especially those of the region of Nordfriesland, were basically left on their own half of the year, from late February to September. Only together with their small children, the elderly, and perhaps a stray reverend. No, do not let your imagination run wild now with this lucky reverend. The moral was chaste and strict. Adultery and illegitimate children did not happen, so they have repeatedly reassured us.
Concerning the men, the whalers, it is interesting to know that the west coast of Greenland islands had names like De Vrouweneilanden ‘the women islands’ and, the aforementioned, Liefde Baai ‘love bay’. In fact, a whole creole generation grew up on the west coast (Zwier 2019). Would their wives and fiancées back home have known? From journals we know that Inuit women were invited onto the ships to dance (Baars-Visser 2022). Maybe for obvious reasons, journals did not provide any more details what happened after the dancing.
Not only on cold Greenland whalers could enjoy themselves and find some bodily warmth. Also before embarking or after disembarking in the big city of Amsterdam they could find these pleasures. Amsterdam of the Dutch Republic was literally loaded with prostitutes, brothels, music halls, streetwalkers, etc. From the memoirs of the North-Frisian seafarer Jens Jacob Eschels we know Nordfriesen frequented whore houses too, and sometimes got a venereal disease causing much discomfort and pain while hunting in the Arctic (Bruijn 2016). Generally called venusziekte 'Venus disease' and potentially lethal. Read also our blog post Harbours, Hookers, Heroines, and Women in Masquerade for the history of women and the sea in the early modern period.
“wie traurig es lässt, wenn all Mannspersonen von unseren Insel weggefahren sind. In den ersten Tagen ist alles ganz stille, man sieht fast niemand auf dem Felde gehen, und es scheint, als ob die Einwohner fast gänzlich ausgestorben wären” (reverend Lorenzen, 1749)
(how sad it is, when all men have sailed from our island. In the first few days everything is very quiet, you hardly see anyone walking in the fields, and it seems as if the inhabitants are very close to extinction)
This seasonal exodus of men led to a social structure on the Frisian Wadden Sea islands without too much hierarchy. A community in which women were fully responsible for the house and farm. So, working the land, shearing sheep, milking cows, making dairy products, fishing for porren ‘shrimp’, drying cow dung for fuel, haying, spinning wool etc. Also, it was the women who traded and did the bookkeeping, even when the men were back in winter (Holm 2003). Many of the women were widow too, since whaling was not an occupation without risks, as described earlier. In other words, when, and if, her smelly troonbook returned from sea, he entered the domain of his wife. These sailor men knew they had to put the northern Ice Sea out of their heads, put off their boots, and wear soft slippers (Deen 2013). Main task of men when they were back on the island, was to upkeep and repair the house.
This stronger position in society of women married with seamen during the early modern period is also referred to as occupational widowhood (De Wit 2005). And this not only applied to more rural situations like in the archipelago of the Wadden Sea, but to marine orientated towns and cities, like Amsterdam, too. Sea ports where a significant part of the male work force was at sea most of their time. Be that merchant shipping, navy, herring or cod fisheries, or, indeed, the whaling. In addition, because seamen had a greater risk dying than most other occupations, there were more widows and a smaller share of men compared to women in general. Also, to have enough means of subsistence supporting the household, wives of seamen had to work too. Married women in the early modern society were legally incompetent. All legal power rested with the husband. However, seamen often had drawn up a notarial deed of procuration in which his wife was entrusted to legally act on her own behalf. This way she could run a business and manage the household.
Read for more about the social position of sailor's women in the early modern period in our blog post Harbours, Hookers, Heroines, and Women in Masquerade.
Not surprisingly, many Frisian sagas exist about emancipated, strong women of the Wadden Sea protecting their islands against external aggressors. One of those sagas, is the saga of Der schwarze Rolf ‘black Rolf’ on the island of Borkum in the region of Ostfriesland. Find in this saga also some interesting leads that the island women might not have been that strict with moral after all. Drinking and dancing with the younger beautiful boys. Perhaps they were merely able to fool their sailing men they were faithful and in full adoration awaiting their return. Also a lone reverend appears in the saga Der schwarze Rolf. However, the island women were not too fond of his modesty and devoutness. Another sign we might doubt their presumed innocence. Became curious? read our blog post Yet Another Wayward Archipelago—the Wadden Sea to have the full, uncensored story.
A last typical cultural aspect of Nordfriesen was the way how people married. Women were free to decide whom they wanted to marry. Once the girl had made her choice, the couple informed their parents. The marriage itself happened in a very organized manner, and always in the autumn season, soon after the men had returned from the northern seas. And, of course, only after the men had had a hot bath and a good scrubbing. Couples were married simultaneously. Could be well up to twenty couples in a day in one community. There was little time because soon the winter would start, and after that their men would be off sailing and hunting again already.
From 1776, when finally the Danes entered whaling too, they set up a campaign to recruit Nordfriesen for their whaling ships. The Danes were successful at it. Many Nordfriesen left the whaling ships of the Republic, and signed lucrative contracts with the Kongelige Grønlandske Handel (KGH). Reason for its success was the benefits offered. Especially, the allowance offered for the travel from the island in the region of Nordfriesland to the city of Copenhagen was very attractive and effective. A travel allowance of six Reichsthaler 'imperial dollar'. On top of this, also boarding money of twelve shillings per day was granted by the KGH. Something the penny-pinching merchants of Amsterdam never had offered. Also, travel distances to the port of departure Copenhagen were less. Another advantage was that whaling with the royal Danish company took place all year round. Besides the traditional spring to autumn hunting season, the Danes also fitted out ships to western Greenland during winter. In autumn the ships left, to be in time before winter fell at the Disco Bay at western Greenland, and only to return early spring.
When the classic whaling industry collapsed at the end of the nineteenth century, many Nordfriesen emigrated to the United States, and the population of the region of Nordfriesland decreased strongly. In the boxed text above, we pointed out some other migration drivers above too, when Prussia conquered the region of Nordfriesland from the Danes and abolished the private navigation schools.
8. Final Throes of Whaling
At the end of the nineteenth century, classic whaling came to a halt. The free cities of Bremen and Hamburg had given up whaling in the Arctic in 1792, due to bad catches. Not only because the Arctic seas had been emptied out of whales and petrol had become the new fuel for lightning over the course of the century, also the French period was crucial for its demise. The Napoleonic Wars between 1803 and 1815, and sea blockades that were part of it, were the deathblow of the already waning North Atlantic whaling industry. Of course, England experienced no limitations from the war raging on the Continent, and could continue commercial whaling in the Arctic. With the total absence of competition from the Republic and Hamburg, their business even expanded. Almost 150 ships per year sailed to the Arctic to hunt the last remaining whales.
After the French occupation, the former Dutch Republic, now called the Kingdom of the Netherlands, did try to reactivate the Arctic whaling industry. It was especially the port of Harlingen in the province of Friesland that tried to do so. Persistent Frisians apparently. Harlingen used to be a wealthy port because of the trade with the Baltic Seas. This once rich navigation to the east was dead and gone too since Napoleon and the French period, and would never be restored. Hence, poverty hit the densely populated town of Harlingen extremely hard, leading among other to the so-called potato revolts. Read our blog post Know where to find your sweet potato. The cradle of home nursing, too, to have more backgrounds on these revolts.
In 1822 and 1823, two whaling expedition from Harlingen to the Arctic took place, but these were disappointing. In 1824, the company Groenlandse en Straatdavidse Visscherij Sociëteit was founded in Harlingen. The company was housed at the north end of the Zuiderhaven docks in a former property of the Admiralty of Friesland (Otten 2022). Ships the Spitsbergen Twee and the Nederland were owned by this company. It was no success either. A year later, the city of Rotterdam also founded a company, the Nederlandsche Maatschappij voor Walvisvangst, and again it was no success. It had also two ships, the Rotterdam and the Maasstroom, and sailed in the years 1826 and 1827 to the Arctic.
The last classic whaling expedition to the Arctic, with the traditional sloops and manual harpoons, was the ship the Dirkje Adema from the town of Harlingen in the year 1862. In 1863, ship the Dirkje Adema, went for a last time to the Arctic and only came back with 900 seals, whilst the year before they had hunted 2,800 seals (Leinenga 2018). In 1864, the ship was sold to a ship-owner at the town of Arendal in Norway. Commander of the Dirkje Adema, Hendrik Wildts from the town Sneek in the province of Friesland (1802-1889), was therefore the last commander of the classic Arctic whaling from the Netherlands. His gravestone, made from a whale's jaw, has been preserved.
A question unanswered is, why the Dutch and Frisians did not innovate the whaling industry and invested in steamships and modern harpoons from the mid-nineteenth century like other intelligent European countries did. Instead, they somehow preserved the old order and sailed with sails (Schokkenbroek 2008).
The remaining, and flourishing, whaling activity happened in the Indian Ocean, the Pacific Ocean and the Antarctic. Its hunting grounds were along the coasts of South America, Japan, the Dutch Indies, and Australia. This whaling industry was dominated by the Americans, later followed by the cities of Bremen and Hamburg, and had emerged in the late eighteenth century. Whales hunted at, were sperm whales and southern right whales.
Only after the Second World War would the Dutch re-engage in whaling because of scarcity of oils, with the foundation of the Nederlandsche Maatschappij voor Walvischvaart (NMW) and the factory ships Willem Barentsz I and Willem Barentsz II. This company stopped in 1964. Many young men from the poor province of Friesland enrolled on these ships (Breteler 2018). In 1964, the NMW, after catching in total about 27,700 whales, was dissolved. It meant the definitive end of whaling from the once so prominent Dutch-Frisian whaling business. Television program Andere Tijden had made a documentary, in the Dutch language, about the Dutch whaling after the Second World War, titled: De laatste walvisvaarders 'the last whalers' (2010).
9. Rest in Green Peace
Now the reader knows whodunit. It were the wealthy merchants of the Republic who provided the means and the capital, and it were the Hollanders (Dutch and West-Frisians), and, especially, the Frisians who were manning the ships during this 'Ice Age'. Together they are the main perpetrators and responsible for nearly exterminating the North Atlantic baleen whale populations. If you also take into account the cities Altona, Bremen, Glückstadt, and above all the city of Hamburg, the Frisia Coast Trail coincides with the area that housed a massive, murderous Arctic whaling industry for more than two centuries.
What large-scale whaling did to the traditional hunting of the Inuit, is little debated in (Western-originated) studies on North Atlantic whaling. The global picture is that the first encounters with the Inuit before and after the start of the whaling, could be violent. But through time the Inuit and Europeans got used to each other. Also, there was actually not much competition on hunting whales. Much of what Europeans considered waste of a whale, namely the tale and the outer skin, were considered most valuable by the Inuit. The outer skin contains much vitamin C. So, they were no competitors, and the food-supply was not negatively upset by the European whalers (Leinenga 2015). Possibly even enhanced.
Already in 1656, Nicolas Tunes from the town of Flushing (Vlissingen) in the province of Zeeland, reports after sailing to Greenland that there are commercial possibilities for trade. Europeans supplied the Inuit with different products, like pans, knives, axes and woolen cloth. In return they got furs, ivory of walrus and narwals. Besides this trade, which was forbidden by Denmark for all non-Danish, there was small-scale souvenir trade. Later, at the end of the eighteenth century, also guns for hunting were traded. Of course, Europeans exported besides merchandise also contagious diseases, especially smallpox. This has led to many fatalities. We only do not know how many victims. There are reports that ninety percent of a settlement died, and we may assume the impact on the Inuit must have been very significant.
Presenting in this blog post this historic image of whaling from an, admittedly and purposely biased, Frisian perspective extracted from the existing studies, was not easy. It's either a history of Denmark, of Germany, or of the Netherlands. Often is spoken in studies and books about the north of Germany, region Schleswig, Lower Saxony, the Wadden Sea islands, etc., instead of Friesland, Ostfriesland, or Nordfriesland. It contributes to the situation that there is anno 2021 (date of writing) no integral statistical approach if one wants look at it from a historic Frisian point of view. Above, in general every study has a different (ways of presenting) statistics.
However, the rough but evident picture is that Frisians, especially those from the Wadden Sea islands, from Vlieland to Sylt, played an important role when it came to manning and commandeering whaling ships. During the mid-seventeenth and mid-eighteenth centuries, their share was about fifty percent. When one realizes these Frisian lands were thinly populated, it is fair to say that their role is even more remarkable.
Modern whaling industry after the Second World War was devastating for the baleen whale populations. Species nearly wiped out are the humpback whale, blue whale, fin whale, sei whale, bryde’s whale, southern right whale, and several more. In 1986, the International Whaling Commission (IWC) decided to impose a moratorium on whaling, except for non-commercial hunting by several native peoples like the Inuit. Japan continued the hunt based on so-called scientific purposes. Iceland and Norway never acknowledged the IWC altogether and continued commercial hunting in their vast territorial waters supposedly inherited by the Vikings. In 2019, Japan resumed, despite the moratorium, commercial hunting within its territorial waters. It ceased the hunt in the Antarctic for scientific purposes, though. Organizations like Greenpeace, and the more aggressive Sea Shepherd, still do not rest.
Note 1 — Victuals of a seventeenth-century whaling ship: anise, bacon, barley, beer, brandy, bread, butter, candles, cannon balls, chalk, (fat) cheese, cinnamon, clove, coffee, Edam cheese, figs, firewood, flour, gun powder, gun fire, hardtack, mace, matches, meat, mustard, nutmeg, pea, pepper, piping, plums, powdered sugar, raisins, rock candy, saw dust, sirup, sponges, stockfish, turf, twigs, vinegar, and wine.
Note 2 — In the harbour of the former whaling town Harlingen a fountain has been placed in the water. It is a sperm whale, a potvis. Arch! we hear you say after reading this great blog post. Indeed, how could they blew this one? It is all wrong! The species hunted at from Harlingen was the less sexy North Atlantic right whale, or noordkaper in the local language. Never ever was it the sperm whale. The horror.
The fountain has been developed by the artists Jennifer Allora (USA) and Guillermo Calzadilla (Cuba). Maybe they were inspired by the American whaling industry, or more than a bit blinded by their own national history. The fountain in Harlingen was part of the somewhat controversial Eleven Fountains project when the town of Leeuwarden was the Cultural Capital of Europe. Nevertheless, we do appreciate a decorative mammal-with-flippers-and-fins fountain in the harbour.
Note 3 — Word on the street is that Frisians already sailed around the year 1000 to the Arctic seas, yes even to World's End. Read our blog post Sailors escaped from Cyclops and saw World's End. Or even earlier that they roamed the northern seas as Vikings, to steal young women from the Faroes. Check our blog post Latið meg ei á Frísaland fordervast! And the murder of a bishop to learn more.
Note 4 — Other blog posts dealing with the common culture of the southern coast of the North Sea in the early modern period are: A Croaking Ode to the Haubarg by the Eiderstedter Nachtigall, Yet Another Wayward Archipelago—the Wadden Sea and Harbours, Hookers, Heroines, and Women in Masquerade.
Note 5 — For more blog posts about animals of the Frisia Coast Trail area, tap the tag 'animals'.
Suggested hiking
If you want to get a feel of the Arctic world the whalers stayed back then, you can hike the Arctic Circle Trail (ACT). It is a 160 km trail between the towns of Kangerlussuaq and Sisimiut in the south of Greenland.
Suggested music
Led Zeppelin, Moby Dick (1969)
Travolta, J., Greased lightnin’ (1978)
Vanilla Ice, Ice Ice Babe (1990)
Further reading
Arnolli, G., De reis van IJslandse wollen kousen (2022)
Baars-Visser, G., Besseling, H., Bleichrodt-Vegter, N., Bruijn, J.R., Raad, de H., Schilte, P. & Vonk-Uitgeest, I., De walvisjournalen van Aerjen Janz. Ruijs uit de Zijpe, 1783-1784 (2022)
Beelen, H. & Biesheuvel, I. (eds.), Walvissen groot en vet. Nederlanders op walvisvaar in het Hoge Noorden (2018)
Bloem, A., Menselijk beeld van de walvis- en robbenjacht (2023)
Bohn. R. (ed.), Nordfriesische Seefahrer in der frühen Neuzeit (1999)
Breteler, A.G., De traanjager. Herinneringen van naoorlogse walvisvaarders (2018)
Bruijn, J.R., Zeegang. Zeevarend Nederland in de achttiende eeuw (2016)
Bruijn, J.R. & Hacquebord, L., Een zee van traan. Vier eeuwen Nederlandse walvisvaart 1612-1964 (2019)
Chamson, E.R., Revisiting a millennium of migrations. Contextualizing Dutch/Low-German influence on English dialect lexis (2014)
Christensen, A.N., Maritime connections across the North Sea. The exchange of maritime culture and technology between Scandinavia and the Netherlands in the early modern period (2021)
Deen, M., De Wadden. Een geschiedenis (2013)
Degener, R., Dutch bought Cape May land for whaling colony that never materialized (2012)
Dirks, C.H., Geschichte Ostfrieslands. Von der Freiheit der Friesen bis zu Deutschlands witzigstem Otto (2023)
Doedens, A. & Houter, J., Maritieme geschiedenis. Vlieland en de walvisjacht (2021)
Doedens, A. & Houter, J., Zeevaarders in de Gouden Eeuw (2022)
Doedens, A. & Mulder, L., Een ijselijke nering. De walvisvaart van de Wadden in de zeventiende eeuw (2024)
Doorn, van F., De Friezen. Een geschiedenis (2021)
Faltings, J.I., Föhrer Grönlandfahrt im 18. Und 19. Jahrhundert (2011)
Faltings, V.F. & Jannen, R., Twäärs üüs haligschep. Swäärs üs en halagsjep. Lexikon der friesischen Redewendungen von Föhr und Amrum (2016)
Feddersen, B.H. & Asbach, W., Der historische Walfang der Nordfriesen. 1 (1991)
Gransbergen, C., Een walvis als boterham. Herinneringen van een Amelander walvisvaarder (2018)
Hacquebord, L., De Noordse Compagnie (1614-1642) (2014)
Hansen, C.P., Chronik der friesischen Uthlande (1856)
Hawkins Kreps, B., The fat-takers cross the oceans (2021)
Hesteren, van G., Lezing Jaap R. Bruijn; Friese zeelui vaak van buitenlandse afkomst (2017)
Hiemstra, A., Schipbreuk in het poolgebied: Harlinger bemanning overleefde op Groenland (2025)
Historiek, Scheepswrak fluitschip in Baltische Zee gedateerd (2021)
Hobbes, T., Leviathan or The Matter, Forme and Power of a Commonwealth Ecclesiasticall and Civil (1651)
Holm, S., Sozial- und Wirtschaftsgechichte des Walfangs der Nordfriesen (2003)
Ironmonger, J., Not Forgetting the Whale (2020)
Knaap, van der J. (ed.), Het dagboek van de Amelandse walvisvaarder Hidde Dirks Kat. De meest vergeten schipbreuk uit de vaderlandse geschiedenis 1777-1778; Zwier, G.J., Een wildeman in zijn schuitje; Hacquebord, L., De laatste walvisvaart van Hidde Dirks Kat (2019)
Kurlansky, M., Cod. A Biography of the Fish that Changed the World (1997)
Lehmann, S., Die Insel under der Wal. Eine sozio-ökonomische Betrachtung des Föhrer Walfangs (2008)
Lehmann, S., Föhrer Walfang. Zur Wirtschafts- und Sozialgeschichte einer nordfriesischen Insel in der Frühen Neuzeit (2000)
Leinenga, J.R., Arctische walvisvangst in de achttiende eeuw. De betekenis van Straat Davis als vangstgebied (1995)
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