You Say That the Battle is Over

Humpback whales numbered 1.5 million prior to the onset of commercial whaling in the 1800s.  Humpback whales currently number only 20,000.

 Expectations for the recovery of whale populations have been based on the assumption that, except for commercial whaling, their place in the oceans is as secure as it was a hundred years ago. Sadly, this assumption is no longer valid.

That is why Greenpeace believes that commercial whaling in all forms must be stopped.

During the 3-year period of 2003-2005, the Canadian Department of Fisheries and Oceans (DFO) allowed a kill quota of 975,000 baby and adult harp seals and 30,000 adult hood seals.

According to Sea Sheppard, after decades of mismanagement and the resulting collapse of the East coast cod industry,  Canada has declared war on the seals in hopes that massive seal kills will bring back the cod. In fact, cod is not a major food source of the harp and hood seal diet.

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Only the mountain has lived long enough to listen objectively to the howl of the wolf.”
― Aldo Leopold

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I Want to Live (Excerpt) (Deutschendorf)

Have you gazed out on the ocean
Seen the breaching of a whale?
Have you watched the dolphins frolic in the foam?
Have you heard the song the humpback hears five hundred miles away
Telling tales of ancient history of passages and home?

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We reached the old wolf in time to watch a fierce green fire dying in her eyes. I realized then, and have known ever since, that there was something new to me in those eyes – something known only to her and to the mountain. I was young then, and full of trigger-itch; I thought that because fewer wolves meant more deer, that no wolves would mean hunters’ paradise. But after seeing the green fire die, I sensed that neither the wolf nor the mountain agreed with such a view.”
― Aldo Leopold

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You Say the Battle is Over (Deutschendorf)

And you say that the battle is over,

And you say that the war is all done
Go tell it to those with the wind in their nose
Who run from the sound of the gun

And write it on the sides of the great whaling ships,

Or on ice floes where conscience is tossed
With the wild in their eyes it is they who must die
And it’s we who must measure the loss

And you say that the battle is over
And finally the world is at peace
You mean no one is dying
And mothers don’t weep
Or it’s not in the papers at least

There are those who would deal
In the darkness of life
There are those who would tear down the sun
And most men are ruthless
But some will still weep
When the gifts we were given are gone

Now the blame cannot fall on the heads of a few
It’s become such a part of the race

It’s eternally tragic that that which is magic
Be killed at the end of the glorious chase

From young seals to great whales
From waters to wood
They will fall just like weeds in the wind
With fur coats and perfumes and trophies on walls
What a hell of a race to call men!