Hope turns to despair as whale dies

Published on 22/01/2006 00:06

THE Thames had never seen anything like it. As thousands of sightseers lined the banks of the great river in central London yesterday, marine experts carried out a delicate rescue operation on the stranded mammal that captured the heart of the nation.

But it failed to save the seven-ton northern bottle-nose whale which slipped off course and into the Thames on Friday. It died last night after being put aboard a barge en route for the river estuary. .

"I am afraid it had a convulsion and died at 7pm," said Tony Woodley of British Divers Marine Life Rescue (BDMLR).

The extraordinary 100,000 rescue mission had began at mid-day just after the 18ft-long animal had stranded itself between Albert and Battersea bridges over the river at Chelsea, 40 miles inland and hundreds of miles from its natural North Atlantic habitat.

Overnight hopes that the whale could escape by its own efforts were dashed when it was spotted further upstream than it was late on Friday, fighting against the current.

Woodley said: "The team reported shortly before 7pm that the animal had taken a sudden downturn in its health. When I saw the whale being lifted on to the bridge I really thought we had a chance. It is such a shame that on this occasion we were unsuccessful. There was a race against time and I am afraid we lost that race."

Saturday morning had brought out the best in the legendary British animal lover, personified by a team of trained volunteers willing to wade into the Thames and risk personal injury from a thrashing tail on live television.

The rescue team waited for low tide at noon as the beached whale could be more easily controlled. Wearing brightly coloured life jackets, they stepped, one by one, waist-deep into the water to approach the young animal, a teenager in whale terms. They then laid hands flat on its skin to provide calm reassurance although all were mindful that a direct blow from the animal's tail could have knocked them over.

The plan by the BDMLR was to wrap the whale in a protective blanket and inflate two yellow pontoons around it. With the tide about to turn, making the operation more difficult, the team had to act quickly despite the disoriented animal's obvious distress.

In just over an hour, however, they succeeded in getting the pontoons into place and began the inflation process.

Once the pontoons were fully inflated, ropes were attached and the trapped whale could then be manoeuvred downstream to a waiting barge, supplied by the Port of London Authority and usually used for transporting waste.

Londoners and tourists lining the banks and bridges were treated to the sight of a whale being shepherded along the Thames with an escort of two rescue boats close by either side.

Shortly after 2pm, the rescue boats arrived alongside the barge Crossness, moored near Battersea Bridge, and began attaching a giant sling. The intention was to lift the whale up on to special padding on the deck.

At 2.45pm, the crowds cheered the rare spectacle of a whale flying through the air. As soon as it landed, crew members raced in to spray it with hoses to keep its skin wet.

Among the spectators was Lorraine Ladha, 49, from Bridgnorth, Shropshire. She said: "It is really inspirational. I like whales and it is just a chance to be able to see it up close in your own environment. I am hoping it is going to survive but they say it is not well so maybe it won't."

At 2.55pm, the Crossness moved off down-river while marine scientists continued with tests to determine the whale's fitness for release into open water.

The rescue team did not want to free the whale only for it to beach again soon afterwards. Blubber and blood samples were taken to assess its health. "Unfortunately, experience has shown us that once a whale has stranded it is not uncommon for it to become stranded again," said one of the rescue team.

The slow-moving rescue barge reached Chelsea Bridge at 3pm and then made stately progress, with its own flotilla of escort vessels criss-crossing the water, past the Houses of Parliament on the north bank and the London Eye on the south.

Onlookers on the river bridges were seen to be risking their own safety by leaping barriers to get across the busy roads for a second glimpse of the rescued animal.

The Crossness was due to moor off Southend-on-Sea off the Essex coast last night. However, the animal's condition deteriorated shortly before 7pm. The barge's lights then went out and it emerged that the whale had died.

Chairman of the British Divers Marine Life Rescue group, Alan Knight, said: "We had a phone call from the vet saying that it had started convulsing and while he was on the phone it died. It was still about two hours away from the planned release place."

Another spokesman, Tony Woodley, said his hopes had been lifted that the animal could survive when he saw it being lifted on to the barge but he soon realised that it would be a struggle to keep it alive.

"It is such a shame and I know that so many people in the UK and around the world have been watching this."

Saturation coverage of 'Big Blubber'

IT WAS a blustery day in Chelsea, ideal for whale-watching. Chic mothers in Uggs abandoned their stroll on the King's Road for a quick stint on the banks of the Thames. Helicopters hovered in the sky and traffic came to a standstill as the police closed off Battersea Bridge. What better option for a Saturday outing than to cheer on the whale who took a wrong turning? The crowds weren't to know that the story would end so sadly and the whale would die.

On both sides of the bridge, people were three deep, bicycles casually abandoned, small children sitting on their fathers' shoulders. The whale itself was wedged between two dinghies in shallow water near the shore. Rescuers were watering it like an oversized plant to prevent dehydration, and the exposed fin was covered with what looked like a red tea-cosy. Men in diving gear were wading nearby, startling indignant swans.

The whale had obviously taken a fancy to the smarter end of town, having been spotted in Chelsea 24 hours previously. Office-workers in the glittering glass creations on the Battersea side of the river returned from lunch on Friday with photos on their mobile phones. People standing on the banks even threw stones to persuade it to change direction.

But the whale's trip downstream to Greenwich had not been a success, judging by the air of urgency surrounding the rescue operation yesterday lunchtime. "I thought he was all right last night," said a man perched on the parapet, "but then I heard the news this morning and thought I'd better come out."

This being London, the crowds were cosmopolitan - Greek, Italian, Scandinavian and New Zealanders, all phoning home to give an account of the unexpected visitor. The British seemed the most anxious, one woman having travelled three hours to see the whale for herself. Eager dogs raced up and down the bridge expectantly.

It took a long time to manoeuvre the whale into position. But eventually the little flotilla began to float majestically under Battersea Bridge. There was a moment when hundreds of mobile phones were held up simultaneously to get the best picture; then applause broke out. The Thames Harbour-Master appeared. Police officers took off their helmets and rubbed their heads in relief.

Everyone had the same thought: to follow the whale downstream. Had the river procession not been moving extremely slowly, the police could have had a stampede on their hands. People looked enviously up to the balcony apartments with a bird's eye view of the Thames, where wealthy inhabitants were enjoying the entertainment.

The drama of the whale's progress and the British weakness for animals made an irresistible combination. Londoners whose knowledge of marine life stretches as far as The Blue Planet became instant experts on the northern bottled-nosed whale. Theories about its provenance, navigational failure and hopes of survival were being swapped freely on Battersea Bridge. However wrong-headed, this was our whale, and London felt responsible for its fate.

Part of the whale-appeal lay in the reminder that this is a city built on and around a river. The Thames often gets ignored, except during Tube strikes when enterprising businessmen commandeer boats to get to work. To have a whale come up from the sea was not just a marvel but a link to the history of a city built on water.

In 1658 John Evelyn, naval expert and diarist, recorded that a 58-foot whale had appeared at low tide near Greenwich. Crowds flocked to see it "by water, horse, coach, and on foot". It was killed with a harpoon iron by river officers anxious about damage to boats, and came ashore "with a horrid groan" in its death throes. Evelyn made a little sketch of it in his diary.

Seventeenth century Londoners assumed that this was some kind of omen. They had just lived through a Civil War, ending in the execution of the King and the elevation of Oliver Cromwell. Thomas Hobbes had recently published his Leviathan, in which the state is portrayed as a whale-like monster. No wonder the sighting in the Thames was seen as a sinister portent.

It is an index of how much has changed that instead of fearing the whale, we welcomed it; instead of killing it, we tried to help it. The saga, narrated by 24-hour news, became a national event. Even in death the whale brought into our lives the natural world that big cities like London have long forgotten.

Sharing in a mission of mercy

IT WAS a blustery day in Chelsea, ideal for whale-watching. Chic mothers in Uggs abandoned their stroll on the King's Road for a quick stint on the banks of the Thames. Helicopters hovered in the sky and traffic came to a standstill as the police closed off Battersea Bridge. What better option for a Saturday outing than to cheer on the whale who took a wrong turning? The crowds weren't to know that the story would end so sadly.

On both sides of the bridge, people were three deep, bicycles casually abandoned, small children sitting on their fathers' shoulders. The whale itself was wedged between two dinghies in shallow water near the shore. Rescuers were watering it like an oversized plant to prevent dehydration, and the exposed fin was covered with what looked like a red tea-cosy. Men in diving gear were wading nearby, startling indignant swans.

The whale had obviously taken a fancy to the smarter end of town, having been spotted in Chelsea 24 hours previously. Office-workers in the glittering glass creations on the Battersea side of the river returned from lunch on Friday with photos on their mobile phones. People standing on the banks even threw stones to persuade it to change direction.

But the whale's trip downstream to Greenwich had not been a success, judging by the air of urgency surrounding the rescue operation yesterday lunchtime. "I thought he was all right last night," said a man perched on the parapet, "but then I heard the news this morning and thought I'd better come out."

This being London, the crowds were cosmopolitan - Greek, Italian, Scandinavian and New Zealanders, all phoning home to give an account of the unexpected visitor. The British seemed the most anxious, one woman having travelled three hours to see the whale for herself. Eager dogs raced up and down the bridge expectantly.

It took a long time to manoeuvre the whale into position. But eventually the little flotilla began to float majestically under Battersea Bridge. There was a moment when hundreds of mobile phones were held up simultaneously to get the best picture; then applause broke out. The Thames Harbour-Master appeared. Police officers took off their helmets and rubbed their heads in relief.

Everyone had the same thought: to follow the whale downstream. Had the river procession not been moving extremely slowly, the police could have had a stampede on their hands. People looked enviously up to the balcony apartments with a bird's eye view of the Thames, where wealthy inhabitants were enjoying the entertainment.

The drama of the whale's progress and the British weakness for animals made an irresistible combination. Londoners whose knowledge of marine life stretches as far as The Blue Planet became instant experts on the northern bottled-nosed whale. Theories about its provenance, navigational failure and hopes of survival were being swapped freely on Battersea Bridge. However wrong-headed, this was our whale, and London felt responsible for its fate.

Part of the whale-appeal lay in the reminder that this is a city built on and around a river. The Thames often gets ignored, except during Tube strikes when enterprising businessmen commandeer boats to get to work. To have a whale come up from the sea was not just a marvel but a link to the history of a city built on water.

In 1658 John Evelyn, naval expert and diarist, recorded that a 58-foot whale had appeared at low tide near Greenwich. Crowds flocked to see it "by water, horse, coach, and on foot". It was killed with a harpoon iron by river officers anxious about damage to boats, and came ashore "with a horrid groan" in its death throes. Evelyn made a little sketch of it in his diary.

Seventeenth century Londoners assumed that this was some kind of omen. They had just lived through a Civil War, ending in the execution of the King and the elevation of Oliver Cromwell. Thomas Hobbes had recently published his Leviathan, in which the state is portrayed as a whale-like monster. No wonder the sighting in the Thames was seen as a sinister portent.

It is an index of how much has changed that instead of fearing the whale, we welcomed it; instead of killing it, we tried to help it. The saga, narrated by 24-hour news, became a national event, as the whale brought into our lives the natural world that big cities like London have long forgotten.

Kirsty Milne