THE BORN LESAR

Why can't I be lucky enough to find some whale puke?

I was just thinking that you and me don't talk about whale vomit enough anymore.

Wait, what's that? We never have? Well, there you go. No wonder they say people just don't communicate anymore.

So, whale vomit, believe it or not, was in the news this week, and remarkably, not in reference to anything Chris Christie said. No, this was a genuine news story, featuring -- you guessed it -- massive marine mammal displaced stomach contents. Baluga barf, if you will. Humpback heave. Pygmy puke.

Had enough?

So this story originates from Yemen, which is otherwise largely known in the United States for civil wars and, well, that's about it. As it goes, a group of fishermen was working off the coast of the Gulf of Aden when they 'captured' a sperm whale carcass. Turns out this whale carcass stunk -- I mean, who would'a expected that -- but these guys were no dummies, and they recognized that this smelly mammal may be worth some rupees. Or whatever currency they use in Yemen. I'm too lazy to Google it. And I care too little.

Anyway, this fishing crew -- numbering 35 in all, for the record -- they tow this whale back to shore and cut it open, expecting to find, I don't know, Jonah's diary? But out falls this 280-pound package of puke, and well, these guys dance around the beach and whoop and holler and high-five each other, I'm guessing, because they now own a $1.5 million piece of ambergris. Really, whale vomit has a name. Who knew?

Called 'floating gold,' ambergris is highly valuable for its use in -- you're not gonna believe this one -- the perfume industry. It doesn't provide the fine fragrance, mind you, but somehow makes it last longer. Ambergris is also used in Eastern cultures as a spice in medicines and potions, and I'm not sure about this one, but as a main ingredient in hummus. I mean, yuch, have you tasted that stuff ? There's gotta be vomit in there somewhere.

So anyway, these 35 fishermen, they sell this hunk of heave for $1.5 million, split the loot up among themselves, and reportedly donated a portion of their fortune to poor families in their community. Vomit for the village. I like that.

And this is not the first time something like this has happened, as several years ago, a 15-pound chunk worth $230,000 washed up on shore in Thailand. Guess I'll be paying a little closer attention next time I take a midnight beach stroll on a tropical island.

Scientists aren't really sure how ambergris comes to be, except that it is mostly known to form in the gut of sperm whales. It is believed that the whales eat certain marine creatures that have beaks, and unable to digest the hard parts, their guts form a waxy substance to protect stomach linings. Ball enough of it up over time, and you get enough ambergris to make a gallon or two of Chanel #5.

Interestingly enough, ambergris is flammable, so at a value of $50,000 per kilogram, I suggest if you ever find some that you don't hold your Bic lighter up to it to see if it's real. Just call in some Yemeni fishermen. They know what stinks and what doesn't.

You have to wonder how someone long ago discovered that a piece of puke that comes out of a whale could have such value. I mean, like who was it who one day said, 'Oh, cripes, look at that putrid pile of puke on the beach. Hey, wait just a sec, put a little behind your ear and see how it smells.'

No real historical accounts of ambergris' discovery exist (at least not on Wikipedia, and if it ain't on there, it didn't happen). It is mentioned as far back as 1851 in Herman Melville's classic 'Moby-Dick' with the author pointing out the irony that 'fine ladies and gentlemen should regale themselves with an essence found in the inglorious bowels of a sick whale.'

I myself have never been fortunate enough to stumble on any valuable vomit, nor anything really that I could just scoop up and sell for big bucks. I've found a few dollars here and there, and when I was a kid scored a nifty old baseball glove out of the town landfill. I suppose I could look down more while I'm walking, but I run into enough stuff as it is.

I've heard a few other stories over the years of people coming across such rare and valuable finds as 200-pound blobs of barf. For instance, I read not too long ago that a softball-sized meteorite crashed through a man's roof in Indonesia, and it was at one time estimated to be worth $1.8 million. Not bad, especially if you need new shingles anyway.

Meteorites are raining down on earth all the time, as it goes, and if you're lucky enough to be around when a big one falls, you may be instantly rich. Such was the case in April 2019 in Costa Rica, when a meteorite described as the size of a washing machine broke up into fragments as it careened through the earth's atmosphere. One piece just happened to land on the porch of Marcia Campos Munoz, some four billion or more years after it was first formed. Talk about patience. The meteorite shower from which that rock came drew immediate international attention, and collectors descended on the area within days. As more pieces were found, speculation ran rampant, and the price of a piece quickly soared past $100 per gram, more than the price of gold. While that generated some immediate wealth, it did little to further the cause of science. The pristine pieces hold immeasurable value for uncovering clues on the birth of the solar system and life itself, yet the pieces were quickly scattered to private collections rather than preserved for study. Can't say I blame 'em. If I were to find a million-dollar stone in my back yard, the local university geology lab wouldn't be the first place I'd think of selling it too, either.

If nothing else, stories of people getting rich on rare finds of space rocks or whale vomit make for interesting conversation, or good column topics for word nerds like me. That's all I've got on that, so I think I'll go home and let my cat outside to eat some grass so he pukes on the carpet. I'll check to see if there's anything valuable there after I step in it in the morning.