Photo: PaulWatsonFoundation.org
“There’s some ludicrous stuff happening in Iceland, but the weirdest footage we have is of one of the whalers grabbing the penis of a dead whale,” Captain Paul Watson told The Inertia. “It’s about six feet long, and he’s jacking it off while all the other whalers stand around singing the Icelandic national anthem.”
Watson founded the Sea Shepherd Conservation Society in the late 1970s, pioneering direct-action tactics against whaling fleets; sabotage, boarding, even sinking ships. Japan’s government has branded the group eco-terrorists for “impeding whaling research.” In 2022, Watson says he was illegally removed from Sea Shepherd’s board after opposing its shift toward government collaboration over direct action. He founded the Captain Paul Watson Foundation soon after. It was the Foundation’s ship, the Bandero, that had been in Iceland confronting the whaling operation run by Kristján Loftsson in July.
Loftsson, in his 80s, is Iceland’s richest man, CEO of whaling company Hvalur and holder of a government license to hunt 150 fin whales. With no domestic or international market for the meat, most of his catch sits in freezer warehouses (Loftsson made his fortune in commercial fishing). Struggling for demand, he’s tried marketing whale-testicle beer, which was ball-achingly bad, and whale-oil supplement tablets aimed at Africans with iron deficiency. Who might actually need food a little more.
“He’s losing money, but he’s old and he loves to kill whales. It’s an expensive hobby,” Watson said. “He’s been killing whales all his life. His father was a whaler, and he’s just a stubborn old man. A modern-day Captain Ahab.”
Ahab, the doomed captain of Herman Melville’s 19th-century novel Moby Dick, spent the book hunting the whale that took his leg. The real-life difference is that Loftsson has money, political influence ( he also leads Iceland’s opposition party) and two high-tech whaling boats, Hvalur 8 and 9.
The Bandero about to be boarded. Photo: PaulWatsonFoundation.org
Those were the ships the Bandero was trying to intercept. When the Bandero entered Icelandic waters, the coast guard put itself on alert and relayed the vessel’s position to the whalers. The Bandero pushed inside the 12-mile limit, heading for the whale-processing plant.
“When that happened, they went ballistic,” Watson said, who wasn’t onboard. “Armed special forces, a large ship, three small boats, a helicopter, an aircraft and they made a big show of rappelling down from the chopper. It was like a Bond movie. They boarded in full body gear, masks, guns. For us this was all great stuff; we’re filming a TV show, and this was box office.” And in Loftsson, they have a Bond villain straight out of central casting.
The Bandero was seized and its 21 crew members confined aboard in Reykjavík for several days without charge. Watson says authorities seized cameras, phones and laptops without warrants, and questioned crew without lawyers present. They were eventually released and deported, with flights paid for by the Icelandic government. “There were no charges, but they were deported,” Watson said. “We’re trying to figure out on what justification.”
With no criminal charges filed, Loftsson launched a civil suit for loss of earnings — ironic, given the whaling operation runs at a loss. A Reykjavík judge dismissed the claim, but a magistrate in a small fishing town upheld it. The Bandero was towed there and remains impounded, awaiting trial.
“The ships are expendable. If we lose it, we lose it, but we’ll fight to get it back,” Watson said. “We risk the ship, we risk our freedom, and our crew risk their lives, but we’ll keep fighting these whaling operations. We think we stopped him killing 50 percent of his catch, so 75 whales saved. We won’t stop till we save them all.”
