Previously, they harpoon-hunted whales on their tana (a boat with about 8-10 rowers and a harpooner), usually several at the same time, so they wound the whale and keep him by several dispersed boats, so it is unable to capsize any and run away. This made them one of the most communal cultures – only a group can hunt and deliver the whale and only whales have enough meat/fat to sustain the community in the quiet season. Seasonal work, drag-nets to catch smaller fish, including tuna, which is valued say in Japan and gives ways to improve living standards, but abandon the traditional cultures, destroys them very fast. stars. As an Indonesian, I am glad this book is written. There are not many books out there about Indonesia's marine communities and culture, let alone the Lamalerans in Lembata Island, East Nusa Tenggara Province. First of all, I like that the narrative is using the POVs of Lamalerans. They could be very, very detailed, from constructing the tenas (the whaling boats) to household duties. I enjoy being immersed like that. There are many types of POVs: Jon the aspiring lamafa (main harpooner), Ika his sister (I love her parts about the traditional market and bartering practice), Ignatius the old harpooner, Frans the shaman & shipwright, Bena the Katy Perry fan girl, and many more. As someone who grew up in the concrete jungle of Jakarta and part of one ethnic minority group, I feel like there are still so many facets and types of lives in my own country that are completely different from mine and considering the fact that we have more than 300 ethnic groups and 700++ languages, my own life experience is basically nothing. The tribe of the Lamalerans (they live on the Lembata island, a remote Indonesian volcanic isle) They settled there around five centuries ago and because the land is quite poor, they cannot survive on agriculture. Therefore, they hunt the largest carnivore on Earth, the sperm whale. The book is based on studies of the author, who lived several years among the Lamalerans, and is structured around telling lives of several tribe members. A large part is about how globalization changes traditional centuries-old attitudes, how modern motors and cell phones can co-exist with belief in wizardry and keeping traditions. It should be noted, that the Lamalerans aren’t a newly discovered group, they were catholicized (while also keeping local beliefs) in the 1920s and say the names of almost all tribe members are usual for Catholics Ignatius or Jon (so they were influenced by the outside world for several generations already). However, during the last 30 years they got access to modern motors and ability to sell their catch for exports, as well as more strict rules about going to school or following other laws. Given their reliance on the whales, it is no surprise that their entire culture and belief system is oriented toward the hunt. Their cosmology is built around the seasonal return of whales: shamanistic rituals are designed to guarantee a good hunt, and every gust of wind has a potential message about the whales, delivered by the omnipresent spirits of the ancestors. The hunt itself has a vocabulary so specific that it brings to mind that old (and debunked) cliché about the number of words the Eskimo have for snow. The specificity serves a purpose, allowing whalers “to compress paragraphs of information about the hunt into a few syllables,” Clark writes. “More than that, though, they were also linguistic microcosms of a whole way of life, and will be among the first words to vanish if the Lamalerans’ culture weakens.” This was an extraordinary, and difficult, book to read. The Lamalareans are an indigenuous society, located at the far eastern tip of Indonesia. For centuries, their way of life had not changed, and their religion, culture and society were intertwined with the Way of the Ancestors. The Way provided them with all their physical and spiritual needs. And then the modern world intruded.

On a volcanic island in the Savu Sea so remote that other Indonesians call it "The Land Left Behind" live the Lamalerans: a tribe of 1,500 hunter-gatherers who are the world's last subsistence whalers. They have survived for half a millennium by hunting whales with bamboo harpoons and handmade wooden boats powered by sails of woven palm fronds. But now, under assault from the rapacious forces of the modern era and a global economy, their way of life teeters on the brink of collapse. One thing you learn, in squeamish detail, is how to carve up a dead beached whale. “By the end,” Clark writes, “only the flippers retained their skin, so that they rested against the flesh like mittened hands trying to cover a naked torso.”

I started the book with high hopes, and the first few chapters were very interesting. The author describes the life of a small group of whale hunters in a remote island in Indonesia. Apart from describing the high-adrenaline whale hunts and everyday life in the village, the author focuses on a couple of families in the village, all interrelated. He introduces us to a handful of people in the village, harpoonists and ship builders, a shaman, patriarchs. And, inevitably, we hear the modern world is encroaching on the village's traditions, with young men preferring to work in the cities and listen to pop music rather than to live on dried whale meat and participate in the old ceremonies. Clark successfully depicts these people in their full human complexity rather than as primitive tropes. Like a first-rate novel, too, “The Last Whalers” has an abiding but unforced theme. It’s about the flood of modernity, in the form of outboard motors and cellphones and televised soap operas, as seen from the perspective of a curious but wary society that fears losing itself in the deluge.

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There’s a lot going on in this feat of journalism, but at heart it’s about a whaling community. Clark does not stint on beautiful, terrible, blood-streaked accounts of hunting sperm whales.