Onboard a small whale-watching boat making its way across the choppy waters of Faxaflói Bay, off the south-west coast of Iceland, a guide urges tourists not to eat whale meat. “We have a campaign here against whaling,” says Estelle, who has been pointing out whales and dolphins from the boat. “It’s better to meet them in person than to eat them.”
Iceland, one of the few countries in the world to hunt whales commercially, announced in February its plan to end the practice from 2024, though it has not officially banned it yet.
Falling demand for whale meat, especially since Japan resumed commercial whaling in 2019, has influenced the decision. “There is little proof that there is any economic advantage to this activity,” Svandís Svavarsdóttir, the country’s fisheries minister, wrote in the newspaper Morgunblaðið. But experts also credit a 15-year-long campaign carried out largely by Icelanders and local whale-watching companies.
Whaling has been practised around Iceland since the early 1600s, but it wasn’t until the 19th century that steamships and explosive harpoons allowed US and European companies to hunt the animals on a large commercial scale.
Iceland stopped commercial whaling in 1985 and scientific whaling four years later under the international moratorium on commercial hunts. But commercial whaling resumed in 2006. Current annual quotas allow for 209 fin whales to be killed in Iceland, to be sent to Japan, along with 217 minke whales, which are eaten domestically.
Since the practice restarted, an association of local whale-watching companies, led by the non-profits International Fund for Animal Welfare (IFAW) and IceWhale, have fought to end it. Their campaign has aimed to turn the tide on whale hunting in Iceland using the slogan “meet us, don’t eat us”.
Contrary to what many visitors believe, whale is not considered a delicacy among Icelanders, says Arni Finnsson, chair of the Iceland Nature Conservation Association, who worked on the campaign. Only 2% of Icelanders say they regularly eat it, according to IFAW.
Instead, the biggest eaters of minke whale have been the country’s roughly 2 million annual visitors, many of whom believe it is an Icelandic speciality. “We had tourists who would see whales and then ask where they could go and eat them,” says Megan Whittaker, head naturalist at Elding, a whale-watching organisation.
A plan was hatched by IFAW and IceWhale to end the practice. In 2009, IWAF launched one of the country’s most successful petitions, which now has almost 175,000 signatories, asking people to sign a declaration that they would not eat whale meat.
From 2011, the campaign sent volunteers into restaurants, asking them to stop serving the animal, and more than 60 restaurants are now labelled as “whale friendly”. The campaign cut whale meat consumption by tourists in Iceland by three-quarters, according to IFAW, which says it does regular tourist surveys.
“Meet us, don’t eat us” has had a big influence on the government’s approach to whaling, says Belén García Ovide, founder of Ocean Missions, an Icelandic non-profit not involved in the campaign. “[Politicians] have realised that a whale that’s alive brings more economic benefits than a dead whale,” she says.
Whale watching has become a booming business. One in five tourists in Iceland take a whale-watching trip, generating approximately $12m (£9m) annually, according to the Animal Fund.
Tour companies have played a large role in the campaign to end whaling. “All of us whale-watching companies have been like propaganda,” says Gísli Ólafsson, owner of Lakitours, which operates in Iceland’s Westfjords. His tour guides have spoken about whaling on every trip for decades, he says.
The companies also fought to eject whale hunters from Faxaflói Bay, which was one of the main hunting areas. “We always saw the whaling boats,” Whittaker says. “We saw the [dead] whales being tied to the side of the boat and being dragged. And we told the tourists about it.”
In 2017, the fisheries minister announced an expanded “no whaling zone”, forcing hunters further out to sea, where there are fewer whales, making the practice economically unviable.
When Japan resumed commercial whaling in 2019, demand for Iceland’s whales declined. Whale meat processing plants were also unable to operate as normal during the pandemic.
Conservationists are now exploring ways to make whale tourism sustainable. Whale-watching companies have created a code of conduct, including agreeing not to make sudden noises, as well as to approach animals gradually and to take turns with other boats.
But there is no legal requirement to follow this voluntary code, as there is in other whale-watching destinations, such as New Zealand or Canada. Ovide wants politicians to change this.
Scientists are exploring whether whales get stressed by tourist boats, by measuring their cortisol levels and monitoring behaviour. The research, by charity Whale Wise in partnership with Edinburgh University and the University of Iceland, could lead to updates to the current code of conduct, says Tom Grove, the co-founder of Whale Wise.
“I see whale watching as a fundamentally good thing,” Grove says. “But it’s about making it the best it can be and as sustainable as possible.”
There are still some who are against the plan to end whaling. Kristján Loftsson, owner of Hvalur, a family business that has led the hunt of fin whales over the past few decades, told the Guardian he wants to continue as long as it is legal. He has said he will restart whaling for four months this summer for the first time in four years, with up to 150 people expected to be hired to work on whaling ships.
Public support for whaling has declined in recent years. But for now, in Reykjavik harbour, boats used to kill whales continue to float alongside boats used for whale-watching trips. “You can see the whaling boats in front of ours,” Estelle says as our small boat pulls into land. Tourists disembark and walk past their tall sails as they head off in search of “whale friendly” restaurants.
