We had got a good supply of provisions and water, in the canoe, and I
understood that the voyage might take us four or five days, or perhaps
more. The island looked very beautiful as we sailed away from it, and I
did not wonder that Matua loved it so much. His love for it made him
undertake the voyage to fetch a missionary, for what he loved more than
its beauty were the souls of the people in it, over whom he ruled. For
two days the sea was smooth and the wind fair, though there was very
little of it. When it fell calm, we paddled on at a good rate. On the
evening of the second day, the sky looked threatening. Soon after the
next morning broke it began to blow very hard, and the sea soon got up,
and tumbled the canoe about in a way which I thought must upset her, or
send her to the bottom. The sail was lowered, and while some paddled
lustily, others, helped by Bill and me, baled out the water, of which we
shipped a great deal, though none came through the seams. This showed
how strongly it was built. The canoe was kept head to the seas, but we
made no way, and it was very clear that we were driving before the
gale,--not back to Matua's island,--though where we were going we could
not tell. Matua sat steering as calm as possible. He said that he put
his trust in God, and did not fear the storm. He and his people were
doing all that could be done to preserve their lives, and that if it was
God's will that they should die, they were ready. I should say that
they had prayers and sang psalms morning and evening, and that they
prayed and sang now, only of course they could not stop paddling or
bailing, or kneel down. Yet many white persons would have called these
people savages. It gave me an idea of the good the missionaries have
done in these seas.
Though I had seen what a storm at sea is on board the _Rose_, I did not
think how terrible it was in a narrow canoe of thin planks just sewn
together. My wonder was and is that we did not go down, or break to
pieces.
Five days we drove on before the gale. Twice we saw land in the
distance, but did not dare to try and reach it, indeed we could not if
we had tried. The wind then fell, and the sea went down, and then we
lay floating on the water, but the men were too weary to paddle any
more. Our food also had grown very short, though we had eaten only just
enough to keep life in us. It seemed a doubt whether we should have
enough to reach one of the islands we had seen. After sleeping for some
hours, the crew seized their paddles, and we began to paddle back the
way we had come. The next day it was a dead calm, and we saw right
ahead a large vessel, barque rigged. Bill and I both thought she was
English and Matua agreed to go alongside. As we drew near, I saw that
she was a whaler from the cut of her sails, from her being high out of
the water, and the number of boats shaped stem and stern alike. We were
now alongside. I told the captain, who asked us what we wanted, how we
had been driven out of our course, and begged him to tell me how we
could best reach Matua's island.
"As to that, you have been driven three hundred miles to the westward of
it, if it's the island I fancy from your account," he answered. "It
will take you a pretty long time to get there; but I'll tell you what
I'll do, I'll give the canoe a tow for a couple of hundred miles, and
then take my advice,--do you ship aboard here; I shall be bound home in
six months or so, and you won't have a better chance of getting there.
If you wish to serve your friends, you can let your wages go in payment:
I can't undertake to help these savages for nothing."
The last part of this speech did not please me, but still I did not
think we could do better for ourselves or for Matua; so, after talking
it over with him, we agreed to Captain Grimes' offer. I first bargained
that some food and water might be given to our friends, for had I not
done so, I fear that they would have had a scant allowance. To tow is
to drag a boat or vessel by a rope through the water. We now went
aboard the ship, which was called the _Grampus_. She was a very
different looking craft from the _Rose_, and her officers and men were a
very rough lot. The wind was fair, and the canoe towed very easily.
Still Captain Grimes grumbled at having to take her so far. At last I
said that I was ready to go back in the canoe if he wished to be off his
bargain. I found that he really wanted us, as one of the ship's boys
had died of fever, and another had been washed overboard with two of the
men. "No, no; that will not do," was his answer. "I'll take the
savages as far as I promised, and you two lads shall stay aboard."
On the evening of the third day, Captain Grimes said that he had towed
the canoe the distance promised, and that she must be cast off. Matua
and our other friends were very sorrowful when they parted from us.
Captain Grimes gave them some flour and water and biscuit and
bread-fruit, and told them how to steer for their island. The canoe was
then cast off. From that day to this, I have never been certain whether
the island the captain spoke of was Matua's own island, or whether he
reached it at all. I know that numbers of canoes are blown away from
the land, and that some reach strange islands far, far-off, where their
crews settle, but that others are lost with all on board.
The _Grampus_ was a vessel of 350 tons,--much smaller than the _Rose_--
but she carried a larger crew. She had six boats, and each boat had a
crew of six men. Often all the boats were away together, so that,
besides the thirty-six men, in them, more were required to manage the
vessel. The boats are about twenty-seven feet long, and four broad, and
sharp at both ends. In each boat are two lines, 200 fathoms long,
coiled away in tubs. In the end of one, an harpoon is fastened. This
is a short spear, and is shot out of a gun like a blunderbuss. There
are several such harpoons, and two or three long lances; besides, a
lantern, light-box, some small flags, and two or more "drogues," which
are square bits of board to be fastened to the harpoon line, in order to
hinder the whale when sinking or swimming away.
It was some time before we fell in with a sperm whale.
Men were stationed at the mast-head and yardarm, on the look-out for
whales, from sunrise to sunset; but it was two weeks before we got to
our fishing-ground. One day, at noon, while those on deck had their
eyes on the galley, waiting for dinner, we were aroused by a cry from
the mast-head, of "There she spouts."
"Where away?" asked Captain Grimes.
The man pointed to the west, and there, not half a mile off, a thin jet
of water was seen rising from a dark object, which we soon saw to be a
huge whale, as long as the ship, "There again," cried the crew, as once
more the jet rose high.
Three boats were lowered; everything was kept ready in them. The crew
slid into them. Away they went in chase, singing--
"Away, my boys; away, my boys: 'tis time for us to go."
We watched the chase from the deck.
"He is going down," cried one.
"No; he spouts again, he spouts again," we all cried, as another jet
rose in the air.
"Yes; but he'll be down again," said an old whaler.
Still the boats dashed on, as if it was a matter of life and death. The
chief mate was in the leading boat. He had reached the whale just as
the monster gave a sign that it was going down. The oars were thrown
up; the harpoon, shot with certain aim, sank deep into the monster's
side. A cheer rose from the men in the boats--we on board took it up.
At the same moment the whale began to strike furiously with its huge
tail, right and left, beating the water into foam. One of the boats was
struck, and knocked to pieces, and the crew had to swim towards the
other boats; another was upset, but the crew hung on to her as if they
were accustomed to it, and righted her. One of them got in, and baled
her out; the oars and other articles were picked up, and away they
pulled in chase. The whale, meantime, had sounded; that is, gone down
towards the bottom. A two hundred fathom line was run out, and another
fastened on; a third was called for from another boat, and a fourth was
about to be added, when the line became slack--the whale was rising. A
whale breathes the air like a land animal, and therefore cannot remain
under water many minutes at a time. Were it not for this, it could not
be caught and used by man. The line was hauled in, and coiled away in
the tub. Up came the whale at some distance, and off it darted at a
great rate, towing the fast boat, the others following. But he became
wearied with loss of blood and the weight of the boat. One of the other
boats got up, and a lance was plunged into him; then another, and
another. Again he began to lash about furiously--the boats backed away
from him. He made one leap, right out of the water, and then lashed his
tail more furiously than before. Then he once more went down, but only
for a short time. He soon appeared--swam slowly on--then the
death-struggle came on. It was fearful to look at. Every part of the
monster quivered and shook, and then he lay dead--our prize.
The sperm whale we had taken is very different to the Greenland whale of
the North. It had a blunt nose, like the bottom of a quart bottle;
thin, pointed lower jaw; the eyes very far back, and a hump on its back;
the tail or flukes being set on flat with the surface of the water, and
not up and down, like the Greenland whale. This one was eighty-four
feet long, and thirty-six feet round the body, or, suppose it had been
cast ashore, it would have been about fourteen feet high. The head was
of great size; it was nearly a third of the length of the whole
creature, and about nine feet deep. The head alone contained no less
than a ton, or ten large barrels, of spermaceti. The dead whale was
towed alongside the ship. The head was cut off, and secured astern,
that the oil might be dipped out of it. Hooks were then made fast to
each end of the body. Men, with ropes round their waists, and with
spades in their hands, go down on the body of the whale. A large blunt
hook is then lowered at the end of a tackle. The man near the head
begins cutting off a strip of the blubber, or the coating of flesh which
covers the body. The hook is put into the end of the strip, and hoisted
up; and as the end turns towards the tail, the body of the whale turns
round and round, as the strip of blubber is wound off. When this is
done, the carcase is cast loose, and the head is emptied, and let go
also. On the deck are large cauldrons; the blubber is cut up into small
pieces, and boiled in them. Part of the blubber serves as fuel. Taking
off the blubber is called "cutting in," and boiling it, "trying out."
At night, when "trying out" generally goes on, the deck of a whale-ship
has a strange and wild look. The red glare of the fires is thrown on
the wild, and I may say, savage-looking crew, as they stand round the
cauldrons, stripped to the waist, their faces black with smoke, the
large cutting-out knives in their hands, or the prongs with which they
hook out the blubber, all working away with might and main; for all are
interested in getting the work done. The crew of a whale-ship share in
the profits of a voyage, and all therefore are anxious to kill as many
whales as possible. There is no bad smell in trying out, and the work
is cleaner than might be expected.
The ship was very nearly full, that is, our barrels were nearly full of
oil, and the crew were beginning to talk of the voyage homeward, and of
the pleasures of the shore, when one night as the watch below, to which
I belonged, was asleep, we were awakened by the fearful cry of "Breakers
ahead!" followed by a grinding noise and a shock which made the whole
ship quiver through every timber. We rushed on deck. She was hard and
fast on a coral reef.