"Hoist out the boat at once and slacken sail."
_July 5th. Saturday_. A beautiful day. After breakfast I was in a bran
boat on the starboard side of the ship and one hundred and fifty yards
away, when I heard a commotion on board, and in less time than it takes
to tell, all our boats, except the upper quarter ones, were in the water
and hurrying off: towards us. Our steering oar was holding the boat to
the ice, so it did not take long to get away, and we pulled hard for
several minutes before the boat-steerer whispered: "Avast pulling." At
this time the boats were scattered along the ice edge a hundred yards
apart. A whale had been seen coming up the Sound. We knew that it would
continue up under the ice, and failing to find a hole through which it
could breathe, it would turn and come to the surface near the edge of
the ice and close to some of the boats, and that unless we had very bad
luck, it was doomed. In a few minutes we saw it a quarter of a mile down
the Sound; it looked like two black islands, one the head and the other
the back. It lay there for several minutes and we could distinctly hear
it breathe. We saw the spout, then it sank slowly and disappeared.
The excitement was now' intense. The next time it would be beside
a boat--which boat? Would it come up under us or beside us? Perfect
silence was observed and the suspense of waiting for the first whale, I
shall never forget. Probably ten minutes passed, when up came the fish
almost beside the boat in which George Matheson was har-pooner. As he
was already standing by his gun, no order was given, and one sweep of
the boat-steerer's oar gave him his shot. The gun went off, the foregoer
sprang into the air and every man shouted: "A fall! a fall!" The
whale hesitated a few seconds before going down, and Matheson put in a
hand-harpoon also. He was not ten feet from the whale when he fired,
and almost touching when he put in the hand-harpoon. The fast boat now
hoisted its jack and the fish went down and started towards the south
side of the Sound, past the ship's stern. We pulled in this direction
for all we were worth, the boat nearest the fast boat standing by it so
as to supply more lines if necessary. When we had pulled hard for ten
minutes, we slowed down, the boats keeping some distance apart, and
shortly after, fifty yards from us, the whale came up. Immediately a
second boat, the mate's, got fast, the huge creature going down at once,
and away we went again. When our quarry next appeared, about fifteen or
twenty minutes later, the nearest boat immediately began lancing, and
presently we were at it. Unfortunately we all had our backs to the scene
of action, except the boat-steerer and harpooner. The heavy blast, every
time it breathed, sounded uncomfortably close. In a few minutes the
boat-steerer called, "Back, all!" and we immediately backed water, the
whale hitting the water once or twice with his tail and going down;
again we were off, but not so far this time. When he next appeared he
rolled about a good deal and we were afraid to go close, so the second
mate fired a Welsh's rocket under one of his flukes and then we all
backed off. The rocket was fired from a harpoon gun. It had a charge of
powder in its trocar-shaped head, and a fuse running down the shaft.
When this exploded the whale plunged fearfully and lashed the water with
his huge horizontal tail. After this he was quiet and the water shot
from his blow-hole was blood-stained. We now closed in again, and lances
were plunged into his neck and churned up and down. Breathing became
labored, and after a final flurry, his spirit passed and his blubber and
bone were ours. What a cheer we gave! What a feeling of exultation! How
near I felt to happy, unconventional, primitive man at that moment! As
the whale was lying on its back with the flukes hanging out, a round
hole was cut in each of these, through which a piece of rope was run and
the flukes reverently folded across his breast; with a knife all lines
attached to harpoons were cut free so that the fast boats might haul
them in. The tail was fastened to the bow of a boat, and, getting in
line, we all proceeded to tow the fish back to the ship, which, by the
way, made no effort to help us, as the weather was fine and there was
nothing in sight. Arriving alongside, the tail was fastened forward and
the head aft along the port side. We went on board, and after dinner, as
I sat smoking with the Captain on the cabin skylight, I could not help
feeling that the life of a whaler was the only one for me.
[Illustration: 0260]
At 1.30 P. M., all hands were called to flense the whale alongside. By
means of tackle made fast to the lower jaw, called the nose tackle, the
mouth could be opened and the tongue and the bone removed. The right
whale (Balaena Mysticetus), of which this was a specimen, supplies
practically all the whalebone. It grows from the sides of the upper jaw,
three hundred blades hanging down on each side. They are ten and twelve
inches wide where inserted into the gum, and narrow as they descend. The
inner edge is frayed and the outer unbroken. These frayed inner edges
form a sort of sieve through which the water passes when the whale shuts
its mouth, but through which the whale food cannot pass.
The bone from each side is brought on board generally in one piece,
sufficient gum being taken with it to hold the lamellae together. This
is divided with a wedge into smaller pieces of about a dozen lamellae
each, and subsequently each lamella is slit off with the wedge and freed
from gum and oil. The longest blades are those in the centre on each
side and they vary in length according to the size of the animal--twelve
feet being large. The size of a whale is estimated by the length of the
longest blade, "a twelve-foot fish" being one in which this measures
twelve feet. The bone is about a quarter of an inch thick and tears
easily into long pieces. It is an albuminous substance, containing
calcium phosphate, and can be moulded when heated by steam, retaining
its shape if cooled under pressure.
[Illustration: 0264]
The busy part of a whaler during flensing is the deck between the main
mast and foremast. Between these masts is the blubber guy, a stout
wire rope to which blocks are strapped, and through these are rove
the tackles which haul the long strips of blubber on board as they are
pulled off the whale.
The specksioneer and all the harpooners except the mate get on to the
whale or into the mollie boats in attendance; they have spikes on their
boots to keep them from slipping; and they remove the blubber and bone
with their knives and spades. The mate of a ship is a busy man, but the
mate of our whaler flensing was, I think, the busiest person I ever saw.
Acting under the captain's directions and from his own initiative, he
was everywhere, giving orders and seeing them carried out.
In removing the blubber the first thing done is to start cutting a
ribbon of it around the neck, called the kant. This piece, probably two
feet wide, when pulled upon, turns the carcass, and from it, running
towards the tail, the long strips are cut and hauled on board. First
the piece around the neck is well started. Then with spades a strip is
started. As this is hauled on by the capstan the men with spades cut
along each side and it is simply peeled off. When the piece raised up is
several hundred pounds, it is cut off, hoisted on board, and the tackle
refastened. When the exposed part has been flensed, the neck piece or
kant is again pulled on by the windlass, which turns the whale over
a little, and so on. When all the blubber has been removed, the head
tackle is cut out and the carcass, or kreng as it is called, sinks
as soon as the tail is cut off. The tail is taken on board and used
afterwards for chopping blubber on. The blubber as it comes on board
is cut into smaller pieces by the boat-steerers and thrown into the
'tween-decks by the line managers, from which it is taken a day or two
later, cut small and put into tanks. Flensing a fish is a very cheerful
occupation and the ship is certainly oily, but there is no unpleasant
smell. As soon as a whale is killed, the fulmar petrels (P. Glacialis)
come in swarms, and they gorge themselves with fat until they cannot sit
up; then they become dreadfully ill and begin all over again. There was
always a current where we flensed and this current would carry away a
stream of overgorged birds, too full to do anything but drift. I sat in
a boat one day and amused myself catching the birds as they paddled past
until I had numbers in the boat. I found it better, however, to leave
them in the water, or to let them stagger about among the men's feet at
work. This was a ten-foot fish and would probably yield thirteen tons of
oil. The following is a copy of the scale used long ago by whalers:--
[Illustration: 0271]
Of course there are exceptions to this old rule.
The afternoon clouded up while we were so busy, and by the time we had
finished, it was blowing. When I turned in there was some snow and it
was much colder.
[Illustration: 0269]
_July 6th. Sunday._ I found the ship with the main yard aback, dodging
about in a rather choppy sea. The sky was cloudy and it looked like
winter. Three ships were in sight down the Sound, all under canvas. We
were quite close to the south side, as the captain believed that
fish would come up that way, and it proved that he was correct. After
breakfast a whale was seen blowing among some loose ice to the north of
us. Six boats put off in pursuit, while the ship followed. Two of the
boats kept straight to the ice while the other four, including Jack
McLean's, in which I was, kept around it. The sea was quite choppy and
the air cold, but we warmed up with the rowing.
The boats going straight to the ice were able to pass through and
entered open water beyond before we got around to it. The fish came up
and gave the second mate a long shot just as she was going down; but a
harpoon easily enters a whale's bent back so he got fast and "A fall! a
fall!" was joyfully shouted by us all. As we passed the fast boat we
saw her jack flying proudly and her bow enveloped in smoke as McKechnie
tightened the line around the bollard head. Gyles was standing by, so
with the other boats we pulled in the direction the fish had gone, and
as we were getting close to more loose ice, those of us who were rowing
and consequently looking astern saw the fast boat--which had been well
down by the bow--right herself and we knew that the iron had drawn. We
pulled away however in the hope of again getting fast, but this whale
was only seen once more, a long way off, and after a hard row through
loose ice we gave up. The ship had followed and she now picked us up.
As the wind had gone down we sailed back towards the south side and made
fast to the solid floe, getting our bran boats out before tea time. We
picked up the fast boat on the way, she having her lines on board. The
weather looked very settled at bedtime and the unusual exertion of the
past two days made me sleep well.
[Illustration: 0273]
_July 7th. Monday_. Summer had returned by morning and the making off
had already begun when I came on deck. We were lying almost opposite the
mouth of Admiralty Inlet and fast to a nice straight floe edge with not
a bit of loose ice any place. There was more life on deck at the "making
off" than there was at the flensing and every one was busy. The blubber
had been cut into pieces two or three feet square and put down the main
hatch. These big cubes of a faint orange color were taken on deck with
the winch, and any pieces of adherent flesh being removed they were
cut into blocks of a few pounds each. Along each side of the deck stood
uprights; on the top of each was a plate with spikes called a clash,
and beside each stood a harpooner with a long sharp knife. A block of
blubber was lifted by a man with clash hooks and stuck on the clash
spikes, with the skin up. The harpooner cut the skin off and the piece
was then thrown into a heap in front of the speck trough. The speck
trough, which was about two and a half feet square, was placed across
the deck over the hatch; forward of this stood the boat-steerers and in
front of each was a block of whale's tail resting on the opened back lid
of the trough. Each man had a chopper, and as the pieces of blubber from
the heap were thrown to them, they chopped them into little bits and
swept them into the speck trough, from which they were conducted to the
tanks through a canvas tube attached to an opening underneath. A man in
the 'tween-decks directed this tube to the tank he desired to fill. The
bone was stowed down the quarter hatch. It was always important to keep
the ship clean and get the blubber away, as there was no regularity
about the appearance of fish. A number might come at once, and several
being killed, the crew could be blocked with work, while again there
might not be another seen for a month.
When the making off was over, the decks were scrubbed down.
_July 8th. Tuesday._ The _Arctic, Esquimaux and Narwhal_ were all in
sight to the north of us. During the forenoon we lowered away for a
fish, six boats going after it. We saw the spout near the ice edge and
were ready for its return, but it came not, probably finding a breathing
place somewhere and after resting coming out north of us. We waited a
long time and had a tiresome row back. The native picked up by us when
we first came had been landed near the south shore, where he had his
dogs. Now we saw three coming along the floe and we picked them up,
sledges, dogs and all. They belonged to Navy Board Inlet. Hardly were
they on board when all hands were called and the boats were away, as
spouting had been seen astern. I was in one of the four boats between
the ship and the south coast, and we must have sat there half an
hour before anything occurred; in fact, we thought the fish had gone
elsewhere. The men were all pretty restless, when suddenly the water
broke two boats from me and the report of a gun was followed by the
cry--"A fall." I saw the whale throw its tail straight up as it went
slowly down; then it started north and we pulled past the ship in that
direction and scattered out to wait its reappearance. In the usual
length of time the fish appeared in our midst and another iron was put
in. Away we went again in the best of spirits. Of course, the fast boat
in each case remained and moved only as towed by the whale. I was in
Watson's boat, and at the whale's next appearance we were almost on
the top of it and he immediately lanced, but the game stood very little
tickling of that sort and was soon off. Again it came up beside us, and
this time very breathless as it had such a short breathing spell before.
Three boats were at once busy with lances, and in a very short time
we registered a kill. When the lines were cut, and the flukes and tail
attended to, we returned to the ship, pulling to the shanty, "A-roving,
a-roving, since roving has been my ruin," and having the whale in tow,
we were very much elated by our afternoon's work, but there was a great
surprise in store for us. Arriving on board, the whale was made fast and
I went down to have some coffee. When I came up I found that the crew
of the first fast boat, having taken their line to the ice to facilitate
pulling it in, had utterly failed to get it beyond a certain point.
Thinking it had fouled something at the bottom, they were ordered to
come on board and take their line in with the steam winch. This was
done, and when after great pulling the very tight line was almost in,
behold, there was a dead whale at the end of it. One must be on board
a whaler to appreciate a pleasant surprise like this. It is not so much
the extra money, as the satisfaction of success. What had happened was
this.
The first harpoon fortunately struck deep in the shoulder of whale No.
1, which immediately sounded in shallow water and broke its neck. No. 2
was not a fast fish at all when we first saw it. Now, we had a fish on
each side, and as soon as the crew had refreshed themselves with supper,
the work of flensing started with a will. When things were well under
way I turned in, very tired, and when I tumbled out four hours after,
one fish was on board. The men were now ordered to turn in for four
hours, except, of course, the lookout and a few nondescript people like
myself and the engineer. I learned another thing about the ways of the
Arctic this morning; directly the crew had turned in, the clock in the
companion was put forward an hour, and when two hours had passed it went
on another hour, then all hands were called and our second whale taken
on board. This fish was flensed in about three hours, the crew turning
in, except a boat's crew on the bran and the lookout. The _Esquimaux_
came steaming towards us during the night, which annoyed us greatly, as
the fish were coming up the south side and we thought our berth rather
good. She steamed past and hooked on five or six hundred yards south of
us. The Aurora immediately unhooked and passed her, while she repeated
the performance mid a storm of abuse from both barrels. Our Captain was
afraid to go closer to the shore, so we remained where we were. When
we hooked on first, the natives had left us, going north to the other
ships. We now saw a number of well loaded sledges coming up the south
coast. It was evident that they would board the _Esquimaux_ first, so
we would lose the chance of bartering with them. Consequently, we sent a
boat off to pick them up and bring them on board. Our opponents saw what
we were doing, so sent a boat also. As it had a shorter distance to go
than ours, it picked up the whole caravan and brought it back. Our boat
noticing a sledge far away with two people in it, waited for them and
brought them to the Aurora. It happened that these two old natives
owned all the barter on the other sledges, and as we kept them on
board, everything had to be turned over to the Aurora by the other ship,
greatly to their disgust. The Captain obtained from them quite a lot of
narwhals' tusks and bear skins. The incident amused us very much.
_July 9th. Wednesday._ Two boats on the bran and the balance of the crew
washing down the ship. I had my first ride on an Eskimo sled. Giving
a native a plug of tobacco, he removed from his sled all the movable
things and I got on. Then addressing a few remarks to his dogs, off they
started. As the ice was smooth I enjoyed it at first, but we came to a
hummocky place where it was not so pleasant. I did my best to stop the
dogs, but they followed their leader, and finally I tumbled off and
returned to the ship, the dogs going on probably home. The runners of
the sledge were made of whales' jaws with bone cross pieces lashed to
them. When I went on board I found a boat just starting for a bear to
the north of us. I don't think I ever saw one any distance from the
water; this was along the floe edge and several miles away. Between us
there was a peninsula of ice on which there were some hummocks. I landed
here to try a stalk and the boat rowed around. For a time I did very
well, the bear wandering aimlessly and slowly about, but before I got
within three hundred yards of him, he had seen me and was off to the
water. I fired several times, but without effect. He plunged in and
started to swim across from the peninsula to the main floe. The boat had
by this time doubled the cape and bruin had a bullet in his head before
he had gone very far. We hauled him on to the ice and skinned him. The
men cut some steaks for themselves, but I never had the pleasure of
trying polar bear, as the Captain did not care for carnivorous animals
as a food.
A great many white whales were now around. I wished we could have driven
a school of them up a fiord the way they drive the potheads up the
Shetland voes. When we returned we found that a narwhal had been killed,
but we did not like to disturb the right whales by hunting these very
much.
As the ship was generally hooked on to the floe which extended across
the Sound, her bow was pointed up and her stern down, consequently
astern nearly always meant down the Sound, as the current setting in
that direction held the ship in that position.