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Showing posts with the label whaling

The poor are prevented from thinking by the discipline of others, the rich by their own.

Of late, I have taken to eating my lunch at this very spot. Right next to the blubber pots . Nothing goes down finer on a dappled sunny day than a spot of blubber and chips . You don't know what you are missing.

All of the true things that I am about to tell you are shameless lies.

This photograph is obviously an old one. How do I know? You'll note those obnoxious idiots pesky rascals wanna be pirates brave eco-warriors from the Sea Shepherds and their vessel H.M.A.S. Steve Irwin docked down at Hunter Street pier. [Note: I am not a fan of the Sea Shepherds, and I don't like whales. I also don't like dolphins. I do like Great White Sharks and Saltwater Crocodiles. I would like to see Sea Shepherds swimming with the latter two to enhance their spirituality .]

I came here to hunt whales, not my commander's vengeance

No, we’re not talking witches today; we’re talking about one of the prime industries that Tasmania (or Van Diemen’s Land , as it was then) has ever seen, albeit fleetingly. The years 1836 to 1841 marked the peak of the Tasmanian whaling industry , in 1836 there were nine stations in and about Hobart. By 1841, thirty-five bay whaling stations in Tasmania were manned by more than 1000 men, but by then they had managed to kill the goose that lay the golden eggs. I have always found the rise and fall of the Tasmanian whaling industry a really useful example of what Stephen Lukes calls ‘ the Tragedy of the Commons ’. Putting on the political science hat for a moment, the tragedy of the commons is best understood as a kind of social trap that involves a conflict over finite resources between individual interests and the common good. Hardin concluded that free and unregulated access and unrestricted demand for a finite resource ultimately - through its very structure - dooms the resource thro...