Rush Oh! Event

Years ago, I came across the story of the killer whales of Eden, and – like everyone else, it seems – was immediately intrigued by it. In the late 1800s and early 1900s, a pod of killer whales, led by a particular scallywag named Tom, would turn up in Twofold Bay, just about the same time as a procession of unsuspecting whales would travel past on their annual migration. Killer whales, of course, like to hunt whales. But what was extraordinary about this particular group of killers is that they worked co‐operatively with the local whalers in order to do so. They’d herd the whales into the bay, alert the whalers and then assist the whalers in chasing and killing the whales. Then both whalers and killer whales would share in the spoils. It was a rare and remarkable example of inter‐species collaboration.

Over the years, the whalers grew very fond of the killers, and came to know them by name, identifying them by the distinguishing features of their dorsal fins. Tom especially was so beloved that on the occasion of his passing, an obituary of several hundred words and a poem dedicated to his memory were published in the local newspaper. His skeleton was preserved, and is on display to this day in the Eden Killer Whale Museum.  

 Well, I am a sucker for an animal story. And the more I dug into the history surrounding this story, the more entranced I became. And because I have a particular fascination for the smaller, domestic, historical details, I decided my story would have a female voice – so, ladies and gentlemen, I give you Mary Davidson, whaleman’s daughter. Rush Oh! is her account of the particularly memorable whaling season of 1908, and the various difficulties, small joys and heartbreaks that beset her and her family and a motley crew of whalemen.

I called the book Rush Oh! because that was the rallying cry that went up whenever a whale was sighted in the bay. I like its note of joyful urgency. To me, the book is a commemoration of a time when things were a whole lot tougher and wilder; when you never quite knew if even the Methodist minister was who he claimed to be. A time when immersing yourself in the carcass of a dead whale was seen as a viable treatment for back pain (these days your doctor might recommend yoga). Most especially, however, Rush Oh! celebrates the fond, unique allegiance that formed between a struggling family of whalers and a bunch of scrappy killer whales.

I do hope you enjoy the book.

Shirley