Our Tour of the Butler Whaling Museum and Why It Should Be on Your New Zealand Itinerary

 After over a century of silence, the true story of one of history’s most notorious mutinies is revealed in Joan Druett’s riveting book In The Wake of Madness. It is a well-researched, intricately woven tale about the whaling ship Sharon, which is a page-turner.

Set in the mid-1800s, this nautical murder mystery is about one of history’s most notorious mutinies. We both loved it and learned a lot about the brutal whaling industry. We were ready when the opportunity to dive into New Zealand’s Whaling Legacy at Butler Point Whaling Museum in the far North of New Zealand presented itself.

The Tour at Butler Point Whaling Museum

The property is privately owned, so tours must be scheduled beforehand. We arrived at the 26-hectare (64.22 acres) house’s locked gate, parked, and waited for our hosts. At exactly 10:00 a.m. sharp, we and a few other guests were escorted up the mile-long drive, which meandered through lush foliage and trees. Once situated on the grounds, we were greeted by our guide, Lizzie, a wonderfully knowledgeable woman passionate about leading the excursion and talking whales.

What a surprising gem. Butler Point Whaling Museum is acknowledged as one of the most comprehensive museums of its kind in New Zealand—and, I imagine, in the world.

Built in 1847, this was the residence of the famed Captain William Bulter and is today recognized as a ‘nationally significant building.’ Butler was born in England and went to sea at 14. They were made for each other, and by the time he was 24, he was commanding a sailing ship, trading, and whaling with Australia. In his thirties, he settled in Mangonui, became a politician, retired, and died there.

Whaling was one of the most brutal of all industries and professions during that era, from life on the ship to the hunting, killing, and preparation of whales for transport and sale. Men on whaling ships regularly lost their limbs, minds, and lives, but the allure of a life at sea, filled with adventure and the potential for financial reward, inspired thousands of men to pursue the call.

History of the Whaling Industry

The first sperm whale was killed in 1712 by Islanders from Nantucket, and from there, an industry was born. A sperm whale was the golden ticket of whaling, possessing the blubber and bone found in other whales and a unique and coveted waxy oil contained in its massive head called spermaceti. It was used for all kinds of things, including ointments, cosmetics, creams, candles–that were both smokeless and odorless, pomades, textile finishing, lubricants, etc… The whale was a swimming oil well, and its oil made the Industrial Revolution possible.

The words “Thar She Blows” would fill the air, and men jumped to positions. Light boats, holding six to eight men, would drop into the water: the steersman, four rowers, and the harpooner who also rowed (there were two oars on one side, three on the other). Sails would often be used.

The chase was on. Once close to the whale, the harpooner would throw his harpoon into the whale—and then the ‘Nantucket sleigh ride’ would begin. The whale would drag the little boat for hours over a bumpy, choppy sea. Sometimes, the whale wins by dragging the boat under, and other times, it destroys by thrashing it with its tail. Many times, the whale would lose,it  eventually tiring. The steersman would come forward, plunge a lance into its heart or lungs, and then the horror began in earnest.

The whale would be towed back to the ship and tied to the side. Men would be lowered down on platforms, and “cutting in” would begin. The whale’s skin and fat would be peeled off in long strips and boiled down to make whale oil.

Walking through the pristine grounds of the property is a complex juxtaposition to the grisly nature of whaling.

The museum houses world-curated artifacts from the era, including a drop boat, harpoons, paddles, knives, books, historical notes, charts, and other paraphernalia. Lizzie is a fantastic guide with in-depth knowledge and stories about the area.

There is a Pa on the grounds, which My Sweet Kiwi and I were the only ones to hike to on this day. So that you know, it is there and well worth the hike. I did not know what a Pa was until now; it is a Maori word for a village or defensive settlement built on hillsides or the highest points in an area. We have since hiked to a few, and the view is always stellar.

It was an amazing step back in history to a not-so-distant past. And there, among the award-winning gardens, overlooking the water, hiking through bamboo, and listening to the birdsong of the Tuis, a Herman Melville quote dances across my mind.

Truth, uncompromisingly told, will always have its jagged edges.