Happy Pride Month

Delphinus cruciger - Cross-Bearing Dolphin

“Another time, while crossing the vast space which exists between New Holland and Cape Horn, we observed in January 1820, at 49° latitude, other dolphins which had two broad white lines running nearly the entire length of their bodies on each side, intersected at right angles by a black line, which, when viewed from above, formed a black cross on a white background. They had a fairly sharp dorsal fin. We were not fortunate enough to capture them either. The same was true for the following species, which we met a few days later, distinguished by a white stripe on each side of the head. Perhaps it was a variety of the preceding species; perhaps this characteristic was only due to the fact that this individual was a juvenile: however, to distinguish them, we named the first cruciger [Delphinus cruciger] (plate 11, figures 3 and 4), the second albigene [Delphinus albigena] (same plate, figure 2).”

- Quoy and Gaimard, Voyage Autour du Monde, pp. 86-87

The plate mentioned above

As far as paper whales go, this is a borderline case, as this dolphin represents a known species. However, its markings are so distinctive in old illustrations that I wanted to feature it anyway.

Delphinus cruciger was a dolphin species documented in Antarctic waters in 1820 by Quoy and Gaimard, the same two naturalists who discovered the more famous Rhinoceros Dolphin. Its Latin name is best translated as “Cross-Bearing Dolphin” or, more directly, “Crucifer Dolphin”. It was named this because, from a bird’s eye view, its markings appear like a Christian cross (✟). A size estimate is not given for this dolphin.

I’ll admit my first reaction after discovering art of this species on the BHL’s Flickr page was to assume they were drawings of Southern Right Whale Dolphins, but I soon realized “D. cruciger” had a dorsal fin, which is conspicuously absent in Right Whale Dolphins (fun fact, this is how they got their common name).

Tangent: Right Whales were extremely valuable to whalers in the past, who quickly learned to identify the whales thanks to their lack of dorsal fins. Whether a cetacean had a dorsal fin or not seems to always have been noted. To draw a finless cetacean with a fin would be a grievous error, an error I’ve never seen made in any old illustrations of known finless species. Dorsal fins were always described well in old descriptions, I’m assuming because they’re one of the only features that are clearly visible above the water, and because of their value in species identification.

D. cruciger’s description is brief and also includes a description of a similar looking species, D. albigena, which the authors theorize may be the juvenile form of D. cruciger.

 

 ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It’s pretty widely accepted that Delphinus cruciger is a known species: the Hourglass Dolphin. The location and colors line up, and as the oldest known description of the species, the Hourglass Dolphin as we know it, Lagenorhynchus cruciger, still bares the same species name.

I’d like to use D. cruciger as a case study to illustrate the likely origin of many phantom dolphin species, which is the boring fact that dolphins are just straight up hard to identify from at-sea observations alone. You really have to capture and kill an individual in order to observe and describe it clearly. While it might seem unethical, physical specimens of animals or their skeletons/body parts need to be collected and preserved in order to establish a holotype, a preserved example of the new species being named. Every valid species named has one physical example living in a museum’s back room somewhere. Many “paper whales” are named despite lacking a holotype, a big reason why the species themselves are dubious. For cetaceans, holotypes are often skulls.

Here's the scene: You’re a naturalist aboard a corvette in the 1810s-1820s. You see a pod of dolphins playfully following alongside the ship, far below the deck. Failing to harpoon one, you draw what you think you saw briefly jumping out of the water to the best of your ability.

L'Uranie, the corvette Quoy and Gaimard would have been traveling on when observing dolphins in 1820

 

If you can only view the dolphins from the deck of a ship, the only parts of the body you can see clearly is the top half, leaving you to guess what markings might be on the belly. When you look at similar footage of Hourglass Dolphins bow-riding, you can start to understand why Quoy and Gaimard depicted the dolphin’s markings as belt-like rather than hourglass-like. It’s a reasonable depiction considering their limited view. I superimposed Q&G's D. cruciger illustration onto footage of actual Hourglass Dolphins so you can see what they were seeing.

Can you see it now?

 

Described alongside D. cruciger is D. albigena, which I believe this is also a shoddily-drawn Hourglass Dolphin. D. albigena will get its own entry on this blog, but I made a gif for it as well.

 

Cross-Bearing VS Hourglass

The Hourglass Dolphin retains the common name “Cross-bearing Dolphin” in the following languages:

•    Spanish (Delfín cruzado)
•    Portuguese (Golfinho-cruzado)
•    Italian (Il lagenorinco dalla croce)
•    Danish (Korshvidskæving)
•    Bulgarian (Кръстоносен делфин)
•    Russian (Крестовидный дельфин)
•    Serbian (Делфин крсташ)
•    Kazakh (Крест тәрізді дельфин)
•    Polish (Delfinowiec krzyżowy)
•    Vietnamese (Cá heo vằn chữ thập)

Interestingly, French seems to retain both variations of the common name, Dauphin sablier (Hourglass Dolphin) and Dauphin porte-croix (Cross-bearing Dolphin). I got these names from international Wikipedia articles. Other languages besides English that use the common name “Hourglass Dolphin” include German, Dutch, Swedish, Finnish, Turkish, Arabic, Persian, Korean and Indonesian.

A couple languages, like Catalan, Czech and Hungarian, use variations of “White-Striped Dolphin” or “Striped Dolphin”.

Bizarrely, in Hebrew, the dolphin is known as “Wilson’s Dolphin”, after a junior synonym, Lagenorhynchus wilsoni. Denis G. Lillie, who coined this name, was not the first person to describe the Hourglass Dolphin, but rather the seventh (Jefferson 2021). Another tangent: feel free to read Lillie's Wikipedia page, he seemed like an interesting character.

I’m really curious where the common name Hourglass Dolphin came from, since it certainly didn’t come from the Latin name.

The many faces of the Hourglass Dolphin

Delphinus cruciger and Delphinus albigena are not the only unique identities the Hourglass Dolphin has held. Another species, Delphinus bivittatus (Lesson and Garnot, 1827), is also very clearly another imperfect observation of the same species. D. bivittatus is notable for being described as very small, at 2 and a half feet long. Actual Hourglass Dolphins are more like 5-6ft long.

 

Delphinus bivittatus

The species was given yet another alias in 1893, Phocaena d’orbignyi (Philippi). However, the accompanying illustration is fairly accurate, and unmistakably an Hourglass Dolphin. The genus name Phocaena tells me that Philippi interpreted this species as a porpoise.

Phocaena d’orbignyi

 

The 1845 book Die vollständigste Naturgeschichte des In- und Auslandes features illustrations of all four variations.

All four variations depicted in Die vollständigste Naturgeschichte des In- und Auslandes

Illustration comparing these variations. I don't recall the source of this image.

If I may wax poetic....

I'm an atheist, myself. But there's a line from the bible I've always been fond of.

"For now we see through a glass, darkly; but then face to face: now I know in part; but then shall I know even as also I am known." 1 Corinthians 13:12

That particular line came back to me while working on this dolphin's artwork. Felt like a fitting note to end on for a crucifer.

 

-------

Shoutout to Lord Geekington for his blog post covering this same phantom species. His article is worth checking out in conjunction with this one, he made some of his own illustrative drawings as well.

Amphiptera pacifica - Giglioli’s Whale

 

I’m taking a slightly more hands-off approach with this entry. The subject here is Amphiptera pacifica, nowadays more often called Giglioli’s Whale after its describer, Enrico Hillyer Giglioli (Jee-Lee-OH-Lee). While Giglioli first described this species in Note Intorno (1870, p. 75) he would later give a much more detailed and captivating account in his book Pelagos, saggi sulla vita e sui prodotti del mare (1884, pp. 79-84). This post is a translated (and grammatically cleaned up) copy of that section from Pelagos.

 

A third group of Fin Whales shall be created to accommodate the very unique species seen by us in the Pacific, which is distinguished from all the other known species by having two well-marked dorsal fins, and, it seems, by lacking the longitudinal skin folds of the throat; I have named it Amphiptera pacifica, making it, of course, a new genus.

We were on our way from Callao to Valparaiso, and had suffered great delays on account of contrary winds and long periods of calm. The latter, however, was highly favourable for the study of the pelagic fauna; when, in the afternoon of the 4th of September, 1867, in Latitude 28° 34' S., Longitude 88° 10' W. Gr., as I was about to take down the net which I had fastened to the supporting parapet of the royal staircase, I was startled by a sudden rustling noise immediately beneath me, followed by a splash of condensed vapour or finely divided water, which I could almost say I sensed, for it left a wet imprint on the vessel's side almost exactly where I was; at the same time the greenish-grey back of a large cetacean appeared, which, most remarkably, exhibited two well-developed, erect, triangular dorsal fins, separated by a large apparently smooth interval. The animal did not seem at all frightened by our proximity, we were ballasted and the propeller was suspended; it remained for almost a quarter of an hour next to the corvette, which enabled me, by comparison, to make a fairly accurate calculation of its length which certainly could not be far from 18 metres; the space between the two dorsal fins was about 2 metres.

 

During all this time I was able to examine this Fin Whale almost from a bird's eye view, and I made a sketch of it. The head was not wider than the body, it was narrowed anteriorly, ending in a rounded rostrum; the lower mandible protruded below, but not much. The top of the head was convex and keeled up to the nasal region, where the keel seemed to bifurcate to protect the nostrils, which seemed to me to be of a semi-lunar shape. The body, seen from above, was elongated and slender, very compressed behind the second dorsal fin and then expanded into the lobes of the tail, of medium size. The color of all the upper parts was a greenish-gray, darker on the anterior part of the back and on the flippers. When the animal appeared before me, it was slowly moving its lower jaw as if forming a bolus of something already imprisoned within the natural fence formed by its baleen. We had met Salpa in abundance; Around it I saw swimming a number of Fishes which seemed to be Naucrates and Caranx, a cunning species which follows ships and large sharks, but which very seldom allow themselves to be caught.

As I have said before, there was certainly some water in the form of a very fine spray in the first breath given by our Amphiptera as it came to the surface of the water; but do not think for a moment that I have the intention of reviving the idea, once generally accepted, that cetacea, when breathing, cause the water ingested into the mouth with food to spurt out of their nostrils like fountains: Undeniable facts of their morphology and physiology have consistently demonstrated that this is impossible. I believe that the expiratory jet of these animals, naturally saturated with water vapour, becomes a fine spray due to condensation when there is a considerable difference between the temperature of the external environment and that of the cetacean’s internal body temperature; when such a thermal imbalance does not exist, the water which may be found in the expiratory jet may also have accidentally penetrated the nasal cavities by inhalations taken almost at sea level, and it would be very natural for it to be expelled in the act of expiration. I was disappointed not to have seen the first jet of my Amphiptera, which could not have reached less than about three metres in height. The noise of this first puff was deep and prolonged, like that which air might produce in a thick copper tube; it lasted for eight or ten seconds. The animal continued to “blow” with much less noise and without a visible jet whilst lying nearly motionless on the surface, at intervals of perhaps two minutes.

 

The size of the whale (59ft) compared to the size of the Magenta (209ft between perpendiculars)

 

Seeing that this cetacean was apparently very tame, various preparations were made by the officers to attempt its capture, while Commander Arminjon had a boat launched so that I might have a closer look at my new acquaintance. All this proceeded, of course, in utmost silence and on the opposite side of the ship; the boatswain had searched below for a harpoon and put together a suitable length of strong rope, while the chief gunner had slowly lowered one of our small brass cannons in case the opportunity for a good shot presented itself, but it could not be lowered far enough to aim at the desired victim; who, no doubt beginning to understand that she was the object of our interest, turned a little on her starboard side to take a look at her “great neighbour,” the “Magenta”; and I had an opportunity of completing my observations on her external characteristics. All the lower parts were a whitish grey, passing imperceptibly into the darker colour of the upper part; I could see no sign of the longitudinal folds of skin on the throat and breast, so conspicuous in other Fin Whales; the eye was small, and could be distinguished very well; the baleen was dark, but was only slightly visible, the mouth being nearly closed. The left pectoral fin, which for a moment appeared above the surface of the sea, was falciform, and longer than in typical Fin Whales. I now had a clear view of the two dorsal fins: both erect, irregularly triangular, with the anterior margin very gradually inclined, the posterior one nearly perpendicular; the tip in both was rounded and slightly hooked. The former, placed midway between the nostrils and the tail, was considerably larger than the latter.

While I watched, our cetacean slowly straightened itself, then, diving a little more than 30 or 40 centimetres under water, slowly swam away from the ship. I could see very well how it swam: the tail is certainly the principal locomotive agent, it does exactly the same job as the propeller of a steamer; in the first movement the lobes of the tail were curved downwards, so that the whole caudal organ formed an arch concave below; then by an opposite motion the position was reversed. But both in the first and in the second movement, the lobes did not act simultaneously, so that while one was rising, the other was still depressed, and together they formed at that moment a double curve which very well represented the form of the propeller. I also noticed a slight movement of the tail in a lateral direction, so that each lobe seemed to cut the water obliquely. The Fin Whale was at this time moving very slowly, so I could observe the double movement of the caudal lobes; if it had been swimming with great speed, these movements would have followed one another very rapidly, and the water would have been cut from above downwards instead of obliquely. The action of the pectoral fins during the horizontal progression appeared to me to be quite secondary, and they were chiefly employed in directing and balancing the great body of the animal.

The boat had meanwhile been lowered and I entered it still hoping to get a closer look at our Amphiptera, while some of my companions, who had collected more than five yards of rope and found a rusty harpoon, still flattered themselves with the thought that they could capture it. But when we left the ship, the animal had completely submerged, perhaps frightened by the noise of the oars; after ten minutes it reappeared in the distance, dived again, and as night approached we could no longer see it. This individual Fin Whale was never seen again, nor am I aware of anyone else having seen it since, so I can only express the hope that the Amphiptera will be found in a condition that allows for a confirmation of what I saw and to complete the study of such an interesting cetacean.

 

Giglioli and the rest of the Magenta crew. Giglioli is in the top hat standing behind Commander Arminjon, who is seated on the right.