First: the sighting. In the old days messengers were sent, bonfires lit, now there are cell phones. Launch the boats, find the whales and drive them to the shore: the whales beach themselves. Those which do not are pulled in by their blowholes. The sea will all turn red.
The Chairman: I'm sure that no one who kills his own animals for food is unmoved by what he does.
The sea will all turn red. The nights will grow longer. The Faroese will dance their slow steps in a circle, and survive on the meat and blubber they have distributed and stored in their homes. Frozen or salted, everyone gets a share. There is no land for crops. The Faroese will dance their slow steps in a circle and survive.