I do not like the fact that whales are hunted, but then again, I often think that the beautiful “balance of nature” is really just everything running around eating each other. And in some ways I envy the Azorians and Eskimos who hunt whales with hand-thrown harpoons from small boats. They must get dangerously close to their prey; and when the odds are even for the hunter and the hunted, they must become bound in a unique brotherhood of understanding.
