From CRM Records SWR 118:

Listening Instructions

If possible, listen to the whale record through stereophonic headphones. Side II, in particular, becomes a totally different experience when heard through headphones. There is a lot of extraneous noise on this or any recording of ocean sounds. This can't be helped. Earphones seem somehow to reduce the distracting effect of the noise, giving a pleasant sense of vast echoey space-a mystical feeling that is very hard to describe. For some reason, this effect is seldom experienced fully with even the best loudspeakers.

When heard through headphones, the ocean noise seems a natural part of the whales' world. Some of the ocean noise is generated by waves, earth tremors, distant breakers, rain, grinding ice, stones tumbled by the tide, passing ships, various shrimp, fish, seals, and whales themselves. The sea in most places is alive with sound. The quietest parts of the sea are beneath the polar ice caps, far from industrialized man. The noises that most interfere with the Humpback whale songs are the low-pitched ones, and in recent years ship traffic noise has become a constant roar of low-pitched noise in the ocean, even far from shipping lanes.

As you will read in the booklet, noise pollution of the ocean may already be changing the lives of some whale species.

The quality of ocean sounds heard in a recording is affected strongly by the bottom topography of the area where the recording was made. In deep water there are chains of echoes from the surface and bottom following each loud sound. In shallow water the echoes return so quickly that they are seldom heard as distinct sounds. You will notice these differences in the separate tracks on the record.

Side I, Band 1 - Solo Whale

This is a portion of a recording made by Frank Watlington of the Columbia University Geophysical Field Station at St. David's, Bermuda. His underwater microphone (called a hydrophone) was in water about 1,500 feet deep, with a cable leading ashore to the recorder in his office. One day a whale happened by and remained throughout the afternoon, singing its song over and over again. Two songs have been selected for this record; they have been slightly edited by cutting out parts of two long, repetitive sections. Except for these deletions, the sounds have not been altered in any way-there is no speeding up, slowing down, or other modification of the sounds made by the whale. Presumably, this is the way the songs would sound to other whales.

You can hear the propeller noise of a large freighter passing far away; it is audible only as a very faint, high-pitched, wavering sound. You can also hear, in addition to this whale, the occasional soft, low cries of a distant whale.

Near the end of the band, there are two rumbling explosions. These were probably made by dynamite being used in acoustic experiments. The whale apparently did not respond to these sounds, for its song is the same as it was in other recordings when there were no explosions.

With the exceptions noted above, everything on this band is the song of a single whale. The sound that follows the first two cries-a noise that sounds to many people like a motor running-is part of the whale song. It is made up of a series of rapidly repeated low pulses.

Band 2 - Slowed-Down Solo Whale

This band consists of two short sections of very high notes from the songs of the previous band. They are the notes shown to the left in brackets. They have been slowed to one-quarter of the original speed. This drops the pitch two octaves and spreads the sounds out over a period four times as long as the natural sounds took. The intermediate loud, low sounds have been deleted from this version. When slowed down this much, the low sounds would be too low for most loudspeakers to reproduce.

The echoes are very noticeable in this slowed-down version, because the echoes of the earliest sounds overlap the later sounds in a very intricate and beautiful way. This band has been included to demonstrate the fantastic complexity of the highest tones in the Humpback songs.

Band 3 - Tower Whales

These songs are from recordings at normal speed of the whales that Dr. Payne and his wife heard on many occasions in 1969. They were often heard during the day near a "Texas Tower" standing on one of two shallow-water banks (underwater mountaintops) about twenty-five miles from Bermuda. Because the water is shallow, echoes return rapidly and are not heard distinctly.

The songs heard here are typical of those the Paynes recorded in 1969, and are noticeably different from the songs on many of Watlington's tapes. The Paynes are beginning to suspect that different herds or family groups of Humpback whales may have different song patterns or dialects. When one group is moving through an area, its songs would then be most frequently heard. The Paynes hope to gather further evidence to test this hypothesis on future trips.

The first whale you hear on this band makes some very low sounds. They follow directly after two high squeals. The basic notes of this low sound are actually complex pulses of sound. The low rate at which the pulses follow one another creates the effect of a very low-frequency tone.

Various creaks, groans, and sounds of ropes rubbing are heard, particularly near the end of this band. These noises are from the Twilight, the sailboat towing the hydrophones. They must be typical of the sounds that a whale hears as a sailboat passes nearby.

In fact, the Twilight is an unusually quiet sailboat. The Paynes found that their early recordings were cluttered with bangs and bumps that synchronized with the rolling of the ship. They found that even the tiniest item free to roll slightly in its place on the ship could create noises that carried through the sea to the hydrophones. Even ropes slapping against the mast produced distinct noises on the recordings.

"We spent hours hunting down various bumping noises," says Dr. Payne. "We wedged small items-batteries, cans of oil, and so on-into place until finally only one loud bang could still be heard. It occurred only in rough weather and was clearly synchronized with the roll of the boat. We searched from stem to stern, but could find nothing that was not secured. At last, one day we discovered that the rudder stock was slightly loose in its housing. As each wave rolled beneath us and tipped the boat, the stock swung from one side to the other of its housing like the clapper of a bell, causing the bang. We had to learn to live with this sound. You will hear the bang of the loose rudder stock on this recording, because the day on which the recording was made was very rough."

Band 4 - Distant Whale

These lovely, mysterious sounds are probably from a very distant whale. There is also an interesting, high-pitched tone that comes from the "singing" of a far-away ship's propeller. Acoustic engineers use the term "singing" to describe a constant loud note produced by the resonant vibration of some propellers. Other propellers, of only slightly different design, do not "sing." Propeller making is a subtle art, and the phenomenon of "singing" is one of its more obscure aspects. Trial and error remains the best method of building a quiet propeller, though we are beginning to understand some of the conditions that cause the noise.

Side II - Three Whale Trip

There are three Humpback whales singing at various times on this recording. There is also a lot of ocean noise. The winds had been strong the day before this recording was made and during the recording day the sea was still running high. Both of the Twilight's hydrophones were located near the ocean surface, where wave noise is loudest. After a few moments of listening, however, you will learn to hear much as a whale probably does, ignoring the background noises and focusing on the whale songs.

Dr. Payne made this recording from a sailboat near Bermuda during his studies of the Humpbacks there. "We found one spot," says Dr. Payne, "where the sounds of whales blended in a very lovely way. We occasionally stopped there to listen while on our way to make recordings at other locations. The Three Whale Trip was recorded at that favorite listening spot on an occasion when the whales sang all day and all night. We have deleted some repetitive sections. The material on the record is actually made up of four separate sections of our original recording spliced together. You will gain some idea from this side of the variety of whale sounds.

As you listen, you may notice a strange effect, particularly on the higher notes. A cry is heard softly at first; a moment later exactly the same sound repeats itself much louder. The first cry is probably traveling directly to the boat. The sound ray moves just beneath the surface and is soft because much of the sound energy has been deflected downward through the water. The second repetition is probably caused by sound rays reflected from the bottom and traveling directly to the shallow hydrophones on their first bounce. Because of the peculiar acoustics of this location, we have the unusual situation of an echo that is louder than the original sound.

The title of side two refers to more than the day's trip on which the recording was made or the voyage of the three whales who paused off Bermuda to sing that day. By playing on the slang meaning of the word "trip" as a mental voyage, this title also acknowledges what has been discovered time and again by people who have listened to the whales sing: the songs produce an extraordinary inner experience for anyone who lets them into his mind.

The songs seem to have a universal appeal. Dr. Payne has played whale songs for many thousands of people in a wide variety of circumstances-at lectures throughout the United States and elsewhere; at the home of influential statesmen with guests invited to hear the songs; in the living rooms of performing artists; at colleges; in concerts; in a dozen other situations-and always, whatever the occasion, the people who listened have been affected, often profoundly moved, by the songs. Folk singers have begun to sing about whales. Works of orchestral music have been composed with whale songs. Finally, through art forms and through television, radio, newspapers, magazines, lectures, and meetings of all kinds, people have begun to tell each other that the magnificent whale, now in peril of virtual extinction, must be saved. The world is "turning on" to whales.

DR. ROGER S. PAYNE, whose work produced this record and forms the basis of the accompanying booklet, has spent the last fifteen years doing research in biological acoustics and is currently at The Institute for Research in Animal Behavior operated jointly by the New York Zoological Society and The Rockefeller University. His studies began with work on the directional sensitivity of the ears of bats, which he did while still an undergraduate at Harvard University. He later received his doctorate in biology from Cornell University for brilliant work on the ability of owls to find their prey in complete darkness by hearing. He then did equally important work on moths, discovering their ability to judge the direction of bat sonar and thus evade capture. When asked how he reached the decision to do research on whales Dr. Payne replied, "The decision reached itself really. It was something I had wanted to do for a long while. Certainly, I wasn't first led to it through any particularly inspiring encounter with whales. I've had any number of wonderful days among wild whales since, but at the time I decided to study whales I hadn't even seen one. In fact, the first whale I did see was a dead one and the encounter was anything but inspiring.

"I was working in a laboratory at Tufts University one March night during a sleet storm when I heard through the local radio news that a dead whale had washed ashore on Revere Beach. I wanted to see it so I drove out there. The sleet had turned to rain when I reached the place. Many people had come to see the whale earlier but there were only a few on the beach when I arrived and by the time I reached the tidal wrack where the whale lay, the beach was deserted.

"It was a small whale, a Porpoise about 8 feet long with lovely subtle curves glistening in the cold rain. It had been mutilated. Someone had hacked off its flukes for a souvenir. Two other people had carved their initials deeply into its side, and someone else had stuck a cigar butt in its blowhole. I removed the cigar and stood there for a long time with feelings I cannot describe. Everybody has some ; such experience that affects him for life, probably several. That night was one of mine.

"At some point my flashlight went out, but as the tide came in I could periodically see the graceful outline of the whale against the white foam cast up by the waves. Although it is more typical than not of what happens to whales when they encounter man, that experience was somehow the last straw, and I decided to use the first possible opportunity to learn enough about whales so I might have some effect on their fate."

CRM RECORDS DEL MAR, CALIFORNIA 92014
Communications / Research / Machines, Inc.


The Discovery of the Humpback Whale Songs

WHALE SONGS have probably been heard, though seldom recognized as such, ever since man began to make voyages by sea. In the literature of whaling alone there are many accounts of strange, ethereal sounds, reverberating faintly through a quiet ship at night, mystifying sailors in their bunks. Long after such experiences were first mentioned, scientists were able to explain what caused them.

Sound travels by creating vibrations between molecules. How well it travels depends, among other things, upon the density of the medium through which it passes. Because water is a much denser vehicle than air, an equally loud sound travels much farther in water than in air. But although a whale sound may be quite loud and may carry great distances in water, it hardly transmits at all from the sea surface into the air because the distance moved by vibrating water molecules is very small, whereas air molecules must move a relatively greater distance (at lower pressures) for a sound of the same loudness.

Therefore, vibrations made by ocean sounds can only move the air above the surface very feebly and thus very little sound energy gets across the barrier between water and air. Wood, however, is intermediate in density between water and air so it serves, though rather poorly, as a transformer between them through which sound can travel more effectively from one medium to the other.

This process is called coupling or impedance matching. The coupling of sound from water to air occurs at all times through the hull of a wooden boat at sea, but the sounds are seldom heard, either because the vibrations that reach the air are too weak to be picked up or because there is too much noise on board for the sea sound to be noticed. Occasionally, however, when a marine sound is loud enough and the ship is quiet enough, it can be heard on board quite clearly. Thus, whalers could occasionally hear whale sounds though they often had no idea it was a whale making them.

Knowledge that whales might make sounds has evolved only in the last few decades, and it has been shown only in the last few months that the sounds of one species, at least, occur in true song forms. This discovery was made by Dr. Payne and Scott McVay.

Dr. Payne learned from Dr. H. C. Frick, a trustee of the New York Zoological Society, that Humpback whales could be found off the coast of Bermuda. He was offered the opportunity to join Dr. Frick there on his boat and, with his wife, Katy Payne, he made his first trip to observe Humpbacks in April of 1967. While in Bermuda, Dr. Payne also met Mr. Frank Watlington, an engineer with the Columbia University Geophysical Field Station at St. David's, Bermuda. Dr. Payne had learned that Mr. Watlington, while studying sound propagation in the ocean, had recorded a great number of extraordinary marine sounds, which he had later determined were made by Humpbacks. Dr. Payne and his wife were eager to hear these sounds and found Mr. Watlington more than willing to aid their research.

"We met," said Dr. Payne, "at Watlington's invitation, on an oceanographic vessel he was using that day for research. In a small compartment of the ship, among a number of items in a relay rack, Watlington had a tape recorder containing the whale sound reel. He was installing equipment in that compartment when we arrived and, since there was no place else to listen to the tape, Katy and I first heard Humpback sounds over the roar of a generator and blower. Even so, what we experienced in that crowded, noisy compartment were the most fascinating and beautiful sounds of the wild world I had ever heard. Watlington gave us a copy of the recording and when we returned to New York we played it hundreds of times.

"I was impressed by the variety of sounds on the tape. At first, I assumed they were being uttered in wholly random sequences, but after weeks of listening to the tape I one day became aware that the sequence of sounds seemed to repeat after a long interval. So I decided to go back to Bermuda and, among other things, test that idea through direct observation."

Dr. Payne returned to Bermuda the following April on a grant from the National Science Foundation. Among the other things he wanted to find out on his 1968 trip was whether he could approach the Humpbacks in a small boat and, by attaching a device that would enable him to remain near them, gain the acceptance from them that would permit closer study. During one such experiment a coincidence confirmed Dr. Payne's inference that the sounds he'd been listening to for so many hours were in fact being cycled through recurrent patterns.

Dr. Payne's discovery occurred not through the electronic equipment he later used to corroborate it but through the process of sound coupling that had brought the sound of whales to human ears for centuries.

"On that day," he recalls, "I was well off the coast in a plywood rowboat. For hours I'd been trying, with no success, to get closer than 50 feet to the Humpbacks surfacing around me. I was rowing with muffled oars so that I wouldn't frighten the whales. I was just beginning to gain on a pair of Humpbacks I'd been chasing for quite a while when they went down for a long dive. As I sat quietly at the surface I heard Humpback whale sounds, coupled directly through the speaker-like hull of my rowboat. I had no hydrophone with me then so I couldn't record what I heard, but the sounds were very clear and startlingly familiar. I recognized the sounds the diving whale was making as being like those on Watlington's tape. And I slowly realized that the sounds were occurring in the same sequence I had heard so many times on one section of the tape. Considering the great variety of sounds Humpbacks make, it was a lucky coincidence that the whale diving beneath my rowboat had produced the same sequence Frank Watlington recorded years earlier."

After he had discovered that the Humpbacks produce their sounds in song forms, it remained only for Dr. Payne to demonstrate such occurrences by spectrographic analysis of the Watlington tape. The first spectrographic printout was made by Mr. Scott McVay, an assistant to the president of Princeton University, who, though without formal scientific training himself, has taken a great interest in the conservation of whales and has worked with Dr. Payne. The spectrographs showed quite clearly the recurring sequences of sound, and Dr. Payne determined to make a third trip to the whale grounds the following April in order to make more recordings.

"The experiences I had in my first two seasons off Bermuda," he said, "persuaded me that if I wanted to learn anything more about Humpbacks, I would have to be at sea as much of the time as possible and particularly at night. I'd learned that Humpbacks are vocal both in day and night. So I needed a boat in which I could remain at sea day and night. And, of course, I needed hydrophones and recording equipment through which to listen and take down the sounds."

With a generous grant from the New York Zoological Society, Dr. Payne chartered the Twilight, a 35-foot sloop owned by E. M. Gosling of Bermuda. He outfitted the boat with amplifiers and recorders and rigged it so that hydrophones, which are underwater microphones, could be trailed behind the boat on about 150 feet of wire. The object was to hang two hydrophones off the stern of the boat on trolling polls, keeping them far enough apart to allow some sense of a whale's direction by listening in stereo. This method produced excellent stereo recordings but did not work very well as a method of finding the whales.

There were six members of the Twilight's crew on the April 1969 trip. "It was a delightful group," Dr. Payne said, "with quite varied backgrounds. The captain, Anthony Kaesbey, is a retired Canadian Naval officer who teaches school in New York City. The mate, Paul Hyslop, is a Nova Scotia forester who has had a great deal of experience aboard sailing boats. And there was Ron Johnson, an extraordinary engineer who has a laundry business in Los Angeles; Victoria Rowntree, an assistant to the curator of wasps at Harvard's Museum of Comparative Zoology; me; and my wife, Katy, an artist and scientist who by now knows more Humpback whales by their songs than does anyone alive."

The usual pattern followed on the recording trips was to leave in the morning or afternoon, stay out the whole night, and return at dusk the following day. The trips concentrated on areas in which local observers had seen Humpbacks in previous years. On reaching such an area, the Twilight would crisscross back and forth over an offshore bank recording the sounds and testing a theory that the Humpbacks were roosting at night there in the shallow water. "During these trips," Dr. Payne said, "we began to build up a faint picture of the daily cycles of the whale's activity, but it is still very sketchy and it may be years before I have any deep confidence in what I have to say about what they are doing in the Bermuda vicinity."

When asked about the safety of the recording trips taken at night in the midst of such big animals. Dr. Payne said, "I suppose people ask about that because they've read descriptions about the perils of whaling. You know. Sperm whales biting a boat in half or smashing it to splinters with their flukes. But what most people know about such things comes out of novels and adventure stories. In fact, when events of that sort did occur during a whale hunt, it was because the whale had been harpooned and, usually, because it was being lanced-when someone with a piece of steel 6 feet long was thrusting it into the whale's body, trying to pierce its lungs or heart. Anyone near such a large animal writhing in the final agony of that kind of torture would obviously get hurt if he got in the way. It's hardly a sign of viciousness if a whale down to its last defenses bites at anything in reach.

"I have never killed a whale, nor tried, nor will I try, so my experiences with them have all been pleasant. They are like cows, really, and seem to me to be the most beguiling, gentle creatures on earth.

"The main problem in studying them is getting close enough. I don't think there is much possibility of being harmed by them. I'm sure they're too alert not to notice my boat in their area so I have never felt the slightest worry that some whale might smash into me from below when it's breaching. I have had a Humpback whale breach within a few yards of a small rowboat I was in-so close I was splashed by the spray. That's not a story of bravery but rather of a delightful encounter, and if I can survive the part of my life I spend in a city, I am sure I will survive those portions spent at sea.

"Everyone on that trip with me feels as I do about the docility and the great charm of those Humpbacks. It was interesting that, regardless of our dissimilar walks of life, we were all moved by their songs. There was often a perceptible feeling aboard that someone else had had the headphones long enough and really should pass them on.

"During our five weeks in the vicinity, we began to learn some few things about the whale's behavior and we made hundreds of hours of recordings. Every moment that we were out on the ocean someone was always listening."


The Study of the Songs

IF THE IDEA of a whale "singing" seems odd, the cause may lie in the several meanings of the word "song." Quite apart from any esthetic judgment one might make about them, the sounds produced by Humpback whales can properly be called songs because they occur in complete sequences that are repeated. Bird sounds are called songs for the same reason. Birds sing songs that are repeated fairly exactly and Humpback whales too are very faithful to their own individual sequence of sounds. Humpback whale songs are far longer than bird songs. The shortest Humpback song Dr. Payne has recorded lasts six minutes and the longest more than thirty minutes. The pauses between Humpback songs are no longer than the pauses between notes within the song: in other words, they are recycled without any obvious break. Again, in contrast with birds, who complete a song

before pausing, it doesn't seem to matter where in its song the Humpback starts or stops, although they usually start in a section that includes low frequency pulses followed by sustained tones.

Because Humpbacks appear to interrupt and resume their songs at any point in the sequence, it is impossible to say at present what is the beginning and what is the end of a song.

To see how the sounds fit into a song you can follow the shorthand representation of the song shown here. A spectrograph machine was used to analyze the sounds, and the charts it produced are very like musical notation. The pitch of a sound is represented by its vertical position on the page-the higher the pitch, the higher its mark appears on the page-and time is represented by the length of the mark. The machine advances at a constant rate, with its sensitive marking point riding on a continuous roll of paper. It keeps printing a mark as long as the tone lasts, following it through whatever pitch range it covers. Thus, a short line represents a brief note, a longer one a longer note, and the vertical position of the line tells you how high the note is.

The spectrograph prints everything it hears-all the extraneous noises as well as the sounds of the whale, plus harmonics of those sounds. If you want to see only the whale sounds, you have to copy them out, leaving the noise behind, as we've done in the second illustration here.

There are several song types. Any one song type consists of a constant number of themes given in the same order. Each theme is composed of phrases. The principal difference between successive songs is the number of phrases in each theme. No theme is ever completely omitted, but sometimes a whale will repeat a phrase many times before going on to the next theme. Thus, songs, while composed of the same number of themes sung in the same sequence, may be longer or shorter depending on how long the themes are-that is, how many times a phrase is repeated in any given theme. There is a further complication in that the phrases of some themes slowly change with each repetition, so that those near the end of a theme are quite different from those at the beginning.

Different Humpback whales sing different songs, sometimes on the same pattern of themes as Side I, Band 1, but sometimes not.

Katy Payne has analyzed a great many songs and has discovered that although there is a very rough overall species pattern, individuals have enough specificity to their songs that they can be recognized by their voice patterns. The evidence for this is indirect and is based on the fact that the Paynes have repeatedly heard the same song sung in the same place near Bermuda day after day. The simplest assumption is that it is the same whale.

We know very little about whale songs. For example, we have no idea which sex produces the songs, or whether both do. We know nothing about the behavior that accompanies the singing. We do know that whales can hear, for they dive suddenly after a loud noise, yet we really have no direct evidence that they respond in any way to the songs of other whales.

Most people who have just heard the songs for the first time seem eager to believe that the whales have some form of meaningful communication. But as yet we cannot really say whether that is true.

We do know something about the transmission of sounds through the ocean, however, and speculations based upon this knowledge may be useful in considering what the whale might be capable of.

Douglass Webb, an engineer at the Woods Hole Oceanographic Institution, has had a lot of experience in designing and producing equipment that can be tracked in the ocean by the sounds it emits. He and Payne have made a few preliminary calculations of the distances the loudest sounds of another species of large whale, the Finback, might be transmitted under the best of circumstances. They are presently preparing a more thorough discussion of this topic, but surprising conclusions are already emerging. It seems hard to believe, but one Finback may be able to hear sounds made by another tens or-under the best circumstances-even hundreds of miles away.

In the early days of radio, it would have been hard to believe that a hand-held box weighing a few pounds would allow someone in New York to talk with someone in California. Yet under the most favorable atmospheric conditions, radio operators have communicated over that range with very low-power transmitters. As we all know, conditions can also be so bad that even powerful stations relatively close at hand are drowned out by static and noise. However, if you were a Finback whale and had a very simple message to get across with no particular urgency-say, a message that simply indicated, "someone is here"- perhaps you would be willing to wait out the long periods of unfavorable circumstances for the occasional relatively short periods when transmission over long distances was possible.

It seems possible that, like Finback sounds, the Humpback's low tones might be used to maintain some form of contact among widely scattered individuals traveling as a herd. Sounds would provide the best means for such contact in the ocean, where visibility is very limited. Such a system would work only if the animals using it were vocal much of the time and Humpbacks are. Wild Porpoise herds are highly vocal, and probably use some of this activity to keep in contact. We now know that Humpbacks sing songs during at least part of their migration in the North Atlantic and Pacific, but probably do not sing on their shallow-water summer feeding grounds. These songs may turn out. to be the way that the herds are called or kept together as they move slowly northward, while spread out over a relatively broad area of the ocean.

"These speculations may seem of little consequence," says Dr. Payne," but they give some idea of the kind of things we hope to find out in the future-the possibilities that seem worth investigating. For such investigations, I hope to develop equipment to follow herds of whales and to live with them for long periods while studying their behavior. This will require support and lots of time. The funds obtained from sales of this record will be used in part for such studies.

"My major concern at this time is to prevent the destruction of these delightful animals. It would be sad indeed if their numbers were so reduced that we could not learn more about them, now that we have reached a point in history where we may be able to learn something significant about their behavior. The other part of whatever funds we can raise will be used to push for the significant survival of whales."


From Music Gallery Editions No. 19:

NORTHERN WHALES

Since 1975, Interspecies Music and Communication Research has been studying the sounds produced by various species of whales, and through self-financed expeditions, endeavoured to gain a greater understanding into the life, habits and communications of whales in their natural environment. During our research we gained access to a number of recordings of different species of whales made by Chester Beachell while on location with the National Film Board of Canada. Furthermore, Mr. Beachell designed the hydrophones used in most of these recordings and helped us greatly with his advise and experience.

The recordings of Narwhals were made by John Ford in August 1975 on Baffin Island. The expedition was subsidized by the Vancouver Public Aquarium. Mr. Ford is presently working on a Master's Degree in Zoology, studying the acoustic behaviour of Orca in the coastal waters of western Canada.

The Belugas in the St. Lawrence were recorded in 1977 by Pierre Ouellet.

Proceeds from the sale of this record will be used to finance other expeditions to film and record whales in various locations across Canada.

ABOUT THE RECORDINGS

Recording with hydrophones raises a certain number of problems. The wind and consequent water action at the time of recording cause varying degrees of surface noise (11 Khz) on the recordings. The cable itself, running some fifty feet to the hydrophone, can transmit noise from underwater currents, and, the boat must lie completely stopped. The body of water also greatly affects the quality of the recordings. In vast bodies of water and in the open sea, lengthy encounters with whales are rare since the whales are most often moving in a predetermined manner towards some specific destination. "Furthermore, centuries of damaging encounters with our species make most whales weary of boats and anxious to avoid close contact.

In the recordings done under the ice, in Alaska, the problems of identification of the sound source and its direction arise. For one thing, because of the speed of sound under water (4 times faster than in air) and because of the frequency bandwidth used by whales (1 Hz to at least 160,000 Hz) stereo recordings would have to be made by placing hydrophones hundreds of yards apart. On the ice, this can be a precarious endeavour. It is also quite difficult to visually identify individual whales who can be hundreds of yards away from the hydrophone, under the ice.

Ambient noises can also greatly affect the recordings; the boat motors and industrial sounds from dock workers and ferries, although miles away, are picked up by the hydrophone. In the St. Lawrence, there is a steady traffic of ocean liners and freight cargos, and smaller boats that can be heard before they are seen.

ABOUT THE WHALES

There are three species of whales on this recording. We have also included some of the other sounds that can be heard while recording whales, such as the bearded seal, found everywhere in the Arctic.

THE BELUGAS

These whales belong to the Monodontidae family and are found in Arctic waters. They grow to an average length of fifteen feet and their skin is snow white when they reach maturity.  Most of our research seems to indicate that Belugas live in a loosely knit social structure, congregating at various times of the year, then separating into smaller pods throughout the remaining months to search for food when the supply is scarce. A shy whale, the Beluga seldom seeks contact with humans, and when encountered in the St. Lawrence, a few whales from a much larger pod would circle the stopped boat while the other whales moved to safer locations a few miles away from us. This behaviour seemed to indicate a form of organization aimed at protecting the largest number of whales possible. We also noticed, on other occasions, that Belugas work together, forming a line to herd schools of fish towards the shore, into schoals and lagoons where they feed, taking turns while other members of the pod keep the fish from escaping.

THE NARWHAL

An ellusive whale, little is known of the habits of the Narwhal. Found in the same Arctic waters as the Belugas, and belonging to the same generic family, the male of this species has long been hunted for it's tusk, which is actually the spiralled growth of its left tooth. Research tells us that Narwhal often travel in groups of six or more members, of the same sex. In the Arctic, these whales follow the movement of the ice, leaving before it and returning when it is gone. This habit has long been used by the fishermen to predict weather changes and in preparing for the hunt. A large adult Narwhal can reach lengths up to fifteen feet (4.6 m.) with the tusk measuring an additional eight to ten feet. The entire body of the adult Narwhal is spotted, the back is brownish in color with the lower part being lighter colored, almost white.

ORCA

This dolphin, immediately recognizable by its large dorsal fin and the white markings on either side of the head, is the undisputed master of the sea. Feared by all other creatures, its call is more than enough to send seals scampering for safety on the shore. Research seems to indicate that a male Orca has one female mate for life, and that Orcas live in pods of six or more whales, led by the oldest bull, who more or less supervises the actions of the younger members of the pod. The male Orca can grow to lengths of 30 feet, with a tall, erect dorsal fin. The female is smaller and the dorsal fin is hooked. These dolphins are the only ones to eat warm blooded sea mammals, such as sea lions and smaller dolphins, and have also been known to group together to attack some of the larger and slower whales, such as the wounded finback or sperm whale. Orcas are found in all the seas of the world, warm and cold, and seem to prefer coastal waters.

SIDE A:

BELUGAS IN THE ARCTIC

Belugas are most vocal and these recordings, made by Chester Beachell in Cape Lisburne, Alaska, on Paril 19, 1973, are a very good example of communication between the whales. The hydrophone is at a depth of about 50 feet, under the ice, beside an open lead.

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Cut 2:

BELUGAS IN THE ST. LAWRENCE RIVER

These recordings were made during the summer of 1977, by Pierre Ouellet near Les Escoumins, in the Province of Quebec. The Belugas were always encountered in open water, 5 to 7 miles from shore.

Cut 3: These are the echolocation sounds of the Beluga. When this recording was made, the boat was surrounded by 20 to 30 whales while one Beluga swam directly underneath the boat, at a depth of 15 to 20 feet.

Cut 4: A shorter version of this pieces can be found on Interspecies Music Whalescapes, Music Gallery Editions No. 5. A Minke whale surfaces in the midst of a group of Belugas, who break out in excited vocalizations.

NARWHALS

The following section was recorded by John Ford, in Koluktoo Bay, Milne Inlet, on the north end of Baffin Island.  In August of 1975, Mr. Ford received a travel grant from the Vancouver Public Aquarium to do Narwhal recordings. Around 6:00 a.m. on the morning of their arrival, a group of 100, 150 animals appeared in the bay. These recordings were made from the beach, with the hydrophone placed about 100 feet from shore.

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ORCA

These recordings were made by Chester Beachell, in the coastal waters of British Columbia.

Cut 7: Orca in the open sea.
Cut 8: Orca in the open sea

Bearded Seal

Recorded by Chester Beachell, in 1973. Belugas are heard throughout the recording.

SIDE B:

BEARDED SEALS

These were recorded in Cape Lisburne, Alaska, by Chester Beachell on April 19, 1973. Belugas can also be heard in the distance.

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ORCA

This captive whale was recorded by Chester Beachell.

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ORCAS AND BELUGAS

This piece is a multi channel mix of previously heard selections.

Cut 11: Orcas have always been a main enemy of the smaller and slower Belugas. In this piece, a large group of Belugas are feeding in the open sea. Orcas are suddenly heard in the distance. At first the Belugas are quiet, then, excited, they head for the shore and shallow waters in search of safety. A few older whales remain behind to act as decoys for the approaching Orcas.

THE HERD

Cut 12: Another mix. In various inlets along the Arctic shoreline, massive herds of Belugas gather to mate in the spring.   Aerial photographs have shown concentration of more than 100,000 Belugas in one single area of the Arctic. Bearded seals can be heard from time to time. Moving slowly through the herd, we hear Belugas engaged in various activities and even a pod of Narwhals.