Entries tagged with “whale” from Stupid London
Early in the morning of 20 January 2006, a commuter made an unusual
call to the emergency services. Hesitantly, he said he wasn't sure if
he was hallucinating, but he thought he'd seen a whale in the Thames,
just by Canary Wharf. He wasn't hallucinating. At 8:17 am, the
authorities confirmed there was indeed a whale in the river - the first
cetacean in the capital since Dalston Whale Pond was drained in 1973.
Sightings followed throughout the day. By nine o'clock, the whale was approaching the Millennium Bridge. By ten, it had come ashore and was seen flopping down the escalators at Charing Cross tube station. An hour later, it was spotted enjoying elevenses at a smart café on the King's Road, and by noon it had joined the queue for Madame Tussauds.
The London whale breaches outside Selfridges on Oxford Street
The whale caused a sensation. Londonders abandoned their desks to get a glimpse of the vast marine mammal, checking rolling news reports and using mobile phones to find out where it had last been spotted. There was something of a scramble in the media to name the whale. ITN and Sky both came up with 'Whalo', the BBC went for 'Mr Whale', but it was the Evening Standard's headline, 'WOLFENSTEIN THE WHALE', that stuck in the public imagination.
Whale experts were concerned that the whale might become stressed in London, what with the crowds and dry conditions. Volunteers bravely approached Wolfenstein - an adult male more than forty feet in length - in an attempt to shoo him back toward deep water, or indeed any water at all. But the whale, now sporting a novelty policeman's helmet, seemed determined to continue sightseeting, and went on to visit the National Gallery and the British Museum, before becoming wedged in the turnstile of the London Dungeon.
Marine biologists tried to keep the beast alive, ladling water over his scaly skin and feeding him plankton flakes while a big crane was fetched, but to no avail. Late that afternoon, Wolfenstein slipped away, his last poignant moments captured by a Sky newscopter, his giant tongue still reflexively lapping at the Cornetto he had bought on the South Bank. By dusk, the Royal Navy were on the scene with an impromptu body bag made from a submarine cosy. A city mourned.
But never fear, the London Whale lives on: Wolfenstein's laminated skeleton now serves as a charming children's climbing frame in Regent's Park.
(Source images: Julian Robinson, Edgley César, licensed under Creative Commons 2.0)
Sightings followed throughout the day. By nine o'clock, the whale was approaching the Millennium Bridge. By ten, it had come ashore and was seen flopping down the escalators at Charing Cross tube station. An hour later, it was spotted enjoying elevenses at a smart café on the King's Road, and by noon it had joined the queue for Madame Tussauds.
The London whale breaches outside Selfridges on Oxford Street
The whale caused a sensation. Londonders abandoned their desks to get a glimpse of the vast marine mammal, checking rolling news reports and using mobile phones to find out where it had last been spotted. There was something of a scramble in the media to name the whale. ITN and Sky both came up with 'Whalo', the BBC went for 'Mr Whale', but it was the Evening Standard's headline, 'WOLFENSTEIN THE WHALE', that stuck in the public imagination.
Whale experts were concerned that the whale might become stressed in London, what with the crowds and dry conditions. Volunteers bravely approached Wolfenstein - an adult male more than forty feet in length - in an attempt to shoo him back toward deep water, or indeed any water at all. But the whale, now sporting a novelty policeman's helmet, seemed determined to continue sightseeting, and went on to visit the National Gallery and the British Museum, before becoming wedged in the turnstile of the London Dungeon.
Marine biologists tried to keep the beast alive, ladling water over his scaly skin and feeding him plankton flakes while a big crane was fetched, but to no avail. Late that afternoon, Wolfenstein slipped away, his last poignant moments captured by a Sky newscopter, his giant tongue still reflexively lapping at the Cornetto he had bought on the South Bank. By dusk, the Royal Navy were on the scene with an impromptu body bag made from a submarine cosy. A city mourned.
But never fear, the London Whale lives on: Wolfenstein's laminated skeleton now serves as a charming children's climbing frame in Regent's Park.
(Source images: Julian Robinson, Edgley César, licensed under Creative Commons 2.0)
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