AMBERGRIS

Guest post by Jesse Hardy (LovingTheAlien)

A few months ago, a television network interviewed me for a production about ambergris. They were looking to film a series on ambergris, including filming a group of people on a search for the elusive substance. While it sounded like fun, there were more problems brought up in the interview than ideas. It wasn’t the fault of the producers, though; there just isn’t much information out there. The US Government even has laws in place that are based on misconceptions about the substance. This isn’t just because it’s a rare and rarely studied material; it is part of the business strategy of the few professional ambergris collectors in the world. Like the fantastic origin stories told by Eastern merchants of the ancient spice trade, the mystery and legend largely preserve the value of ambergris.

Thanks to the investigative work by Christopher Kemp presented in his book Floating Gold, there is now some published literature compiling facts, not myths, on the substance. The book is a fascinating read about the author’s obsessive journey for ambergris and the elusive people behind the ambergris trade that he meets along the way. While I couldn’t possibly recommend the book more in its entirety, I thought it would be useful to extract some of the facts in the book and compare them to the prevailing myths on the subject. The truth is often more magical than the legend!

                  MYTH: Ambergris is a waxy lump that is vomited up by whales.

                  FACT: Sperm whales, a specific whale species, produce ambergris as a biliary secretion when they have a bowel obstruction – typically a large volume of indigestible squid beaks.

Although a sperm whale has never been observed passing ambergris out of its body, one thing is certain: it doesn’t come out of a whale’s mouth. It is possible that these sick whales may be able to pass the mass through the usual digestive path, but it is far more likely that the ambergris never leaves the whale’s body at all. When large whales die, the gases inside their large, thick-blubbered bodies make them extremely buoyant; it also gives them the tendency to explode! It’s extremely likely that this is the primary way that ambergris becomes introduced to the ocean.

                 

                  MYTH: Whales are killed to obtain valuable ambergris.

                  FACT: Ambergris comes from whales that died natural deaths. 

Ambergris comes in a variety of qualities. The oldest ambergris is light, small in size, pleasantly aromatic, silver in color, rare, and extremely valuable. This ambergris has to float freely in the ocean for over a decade before it becomes this grade. This is the stuff that the big companies like Chanel and Guerlain purchase. The next lowest quality is grey amber. This is larger, grey in color, and possesses a mixture of pleasant ambergris aroma and an oceanic, barnyard-like fecal scent. This is also used in perfumery, where its subtle fecal quality can be blended with and disguised by other aromas. It is also used in magic and traditional medicine. This is still valuable, but is worth significantly less. At the other end of the age spectrum is fresh ambergris. This is the stuff that comes directly from whale corpses and is often found scattered along the beach when a dead whale washes up. It is large, black, soft, and has an overwhelming fecal aroma. Although I have seen tinctures of this for sale, it is only sold as a curiosity; it is not used in perfume. It has some value (again, as a curiosity), but not much; most of the ambergris dealers won’t purchase this quality of ambergris. The reality is that ambergris has to oxidize in the ocean for a very long time before it becomes valuable. This means that it is impossible to get valuable ambergris from a live (or even recently deceased) whale. While whaling and poaching are a serious problem, it is not for the ambergris that these poachers kill whales.

                  MYTH: Ambergris washes up randomly on beaches, where lucky people find big lumps and sell them to perfume companies.

                  FACT: This one is only partially true. The ambergris industry is largely controlled by a few dealers who purchase ambergris from around the world. However, they don’t rely entirely on lucky

people that end up in newspapers for finding big chunks of ambergris at the beach; there are a handful of professional ambergris collectors in the world who have learned exactly where, when, and how to look for ambergris. People who live near remote beaches in countries like New Zealand have learned that the same ocean currents that carry around ambergris for decades have a tendency to deposit ambergris (along with everything else that floats in the ocean) along certain beaches at certain times of the year and after large storms. They hop on their dune-buggies at high tide and scour the tideline for ambergris. This would be almost impossible if it wasn’t for one incredible tool: trained ambergris-sniffing dogs. With their dogs, ambergris collectors can find their treasure even if it is inconspicuous or buried under the sand. This is one of the most closely-guarded secrets of ambergris collectors. In fact, the producer who interviewed me said that one of the ambergris collectors in New Zealand with whom she spoke told her that she “can’t reveal on T.V. that we use dogs.” This isn’t out of greed, although it may seem that way. In fact, the secretive nature of these collectors is one of the few things that keeps prices low and availability high!

The nature of ambergris hunting is fickle. Even under perfect conditions, ambergris can only be found if it is there to be found in the first place. Estimates are that only up to one percent of sperm whales produce ambergris. Although there is no good estimate of the worldwide sperm whale population, the upper limit of those estimates is around 1,500,000 (the low estimate is 200,000). At the maximum, that means that 15,000 whales currently produce ambergris worldwide. Sperm whales live for about 70 years. Considering they only release ambergris when they die, this means that the likelihood of actually finding ambergris is very low, even at the upper end of estimates – and that isn’t considering that their population isn’t evenly distributed across the globe. If there was a “grey amber rush,” the competition on beaches would reduce the incentive for professional ambergris hunters. If they were no longer able to make a living, they might give up professional ambergris hunting entirely. The market would be shaken up, and the rush would eventually fizzle out. However, there is no guarantee that the professional hunters would go back to searching for ambergris. The availability of ambergris would plummet, prices would rise, and the industry would be forced to adapt. It’s no secret that the perfume industry as a whole isn’t interested in increasing the cost of their concentrates, so a rise in price could prompt the industry to turn their back on natural ambergris in favor of synthetics forever. Without a buyer, the value of ambergris would plummet and the entire industry would collapse.

Although there are many myths and misconceptions about ambergris, the reality is still enthralling. As a commodity, it is the last surviving member of the orientalist spice trade. Although its physical properties are what keeps it in demand, it is the mystery and mystique that keeps it available. Like all magic, the reality behind the curtain is quite different from what happens on stage. In the case of ambergris, however, the truth is still fascinating. The people behind the curtain are proud, dedicated, and clever. They preserve a tradition with ancient history, which is no small feat. To equate them to junk collectors removes the marketing aspect of their tiny, secretive industry, which is undeniably pretty incredible. After all, they manage to sell a substance that comes from exploding whale corpses like gold bullion. If that isn’t magic, reader, I don’t know what is.

[Burning ambergris as incense painting is by John Singer Sargent; lumps of ambergris photo is mine; all other images are from Wikimedia]

ADVENTURES WITH AMBERGRIS

I’ve been away from the blog for a while, catching up after the orchid show, dealing with my “real job”, and filling an unprecedented number of perfume orders that came in after Marla’s post on Ballets Rouges. Thank you, Marla! As a consequence, I’ve had to re-size my formulas once again to accommodate the greater demand. Today I’m supposed to get a new set of shelves in my workroom, which will help a lot with storage.

In the meantime, I’ve been playing around with real ambergris. A year or so ago I got a small amount of ambergris tincture and finally used some of it in a couple of the Dev variations. I really liked the effect it had on the fragrances, so decided to add it to my list of standard materials. I ordered a chunk of ambergris from New Zealand (photo), which is in the process of tincturing now.

Ambergris is not to be confused with fossilized amber, which is basically petrified pine resin. It has nothing to do with the perfume note “amber”, which is a combination of materials including the plant resin labdanum or its derivatives, nor is it related to any of the fragrance oils labeled “ambergris”, which might contain almost anything but ambergris. You have probably heard or read that real ambergris is whale vomit that has washed around in the ocean for years, mellowing out and taking on its own special aroma. More specifically, it’s a waxy secretion produced in the gut of sperm whales as a protective response to sharp objects they have eaten, especially squid parts. Once a lump has accumulated, the whale excretes it with its feces or, if it is too large, it is regurgitated through the mouth. The stuff floats around in the ocean for many years, being cleansed and weathered by the salt water and sun, taking on a distinctive fragrance. Eventually it washes up on a beach somewhere, where it’s collected by beachcombers who sell it to ambergris dealers.

The piece of ambergris that I got was the “silver” variety, one that has undergone a fair amount of weathering so that the animalic aspects are relatively subtle, although still present. The vendor included small chips of the dark and white varieties as samples. I was surprised to find that when I opened the package, I could smell the ambergris through the wrapping, and the predominant note was similar to ambroxan. Maybe I shouldn’t have been surprised, but for some reason I was.

I decided to make a 5% tincture, so had to macerate the ambergris lump. In doing so, I found that it was fairly sticky, not as crumbly as I had expected. When I first put the ambergris in the alcohol, the solution turned black and the odor was a distinctive ocean-and-earthy smell, not at all like ambroxan. The only way I know to describe it is as a dark, fibrous shape, with a texture sort of like tree fern. It was an interesting fragrance in and of itself. As the weeks have passed, the ambergris bits have settled to the bottom of the bottle and appear to be slowly dissolving. The alcohol is now a dark pinkish gray color, and I’m starting to smell the ambroxan note along with the “tree fern”.

It will be at least 6 months before the tincture is ready, but I’m looking forward to incorporating it into some of my perfumes, especially a line of all-natural ones.

[Whale photo and drawing adapted from Wikimedia]

AMBER AND FOSSILIZED AMBER

Amber is probably one of the most confusing terms in perfumery. It is used to refer to at least three completely different classes of scents, one of which is an accord (mixture) made of highly variable materials including benzoin, vanilla, labdanum, and a host of other things. The components of the “amber” accord can be either natural or synthetic. This accord in all its various guises is by far the most common “amber” in perfumery and is used as a base in a wide variety of perfumes, including orientals. I have formulated my own signature amber accord that I use alone when I'm craving a big dose of labdanum, or as a base in other perfumes. It seems that amber accords are often sold with the claim that they are the “essential oil of amber” even though the components have nothing to do with true amber.

“Amber” is also sometimes used to refer to ambergris, real or synthetic. My impression, from what I’ve read and from the perfumes with an ambergris note that I’ve sampled, is that ambergris has a salty, ocean-like, animalic scent that bears no resemblance to the amber accord. At some point I want to get my hands on some real, pure ambergris to try, but it’s not that easy to come by, especially on a limited budget, since it depends on sperm whales coughing it up and letting it age for a long time in the ocean before it washes up somewhere on a beach.

True amber, the one that we see in jewelry, is actually fossilized tree resin, sap secreted by plants millions of years ago and gradually petrified. Sometimes it contains insects or other inclusions. Scientists have even found bees with orchid pollen on their backs embedded in amber. Some time back I acquired a small vial of fossilized amber oil from Eden Botanicals, and have since gone on to purchase enough to use in formulating a perfume. According to their website, this oil is extracted from “Himalayan fossilized tree resin (35,000,000 years old) and found at an elevation of about 2,500 meters”. The oil is dark brown and extremely viscous. It has a distinctive smoky, slightly resinous scent that will make a unique perfume base. It’s a little like the ashes of a campfire and a little like the rosin that I remember my mother using on her violin bow. One of my current projects is to create a limited edition all-natural perfume using fossilized amber as the featured note.

The thought of wearing perfume that contains sap from long-extinct plants that grew in prehistoric times seems daunting until I think about the fact that prehistoric plant materials are burned every day in enormous quantities in petroleum products and coal. OK, so much for that mystique. I prefer to think of fossilized amber oil as a liquid jewel, the spirit of those ancient trees that shed their blood into the primordial ooze, where it turned to stone. I may call the perfume "Petrified Forest", but am open to suggestions.