And now we will return to our old barque, that we left beating out of
Geographe bay, having distanced both her competitors, and established
her reputation as a fast ship. At night we shortened sail and stood
quarter watches, and from this time until the middle of the succeeding
month, little occurred to vary the sameness of our life. We were
aroused from inaction by the appearance of sperm whales. The boats were
lowered, and the waist boat fastening, both irons drew. A few minutes
after, the starboard boat fastened to another. These irons holding,
after a two hours’ conflict we had a fine sperm whale alongside the
ship without accident, except the voluntary discharge of the bomb-lance
gun, which, fortunately, was productive of no injury. We had good
weather, and soon he was disposed of in our lower hold. The following
morning after his capture, we saw three other New Bedford ships
employed in cutting in whales, making four of us successful in the
war of extermination against the old squareheaders. The sperm whale,
swimming in immense schools, and always pursuing a direct route, all
ships that lay in their course have a chance at them. I have heard it
asserted that at night these whales heave to, resuming their course
at daybreak; but, although my informants were men who had been in the
service for years, I consider this a mistaken opinion, as during the
whole of our voyage I saw nothing to corroborate it. I have seen sperm
whales at dusk, and in the night, and they were always on the move, and
could not be discerned the following morning from the masthead.
During this month we gammoned the barque Lexington, of New Bedford.
This vessel was in a wretched state, and apprehensions were expressed
by her crew that some misfortune would befall her: she leaked
immoderately, was strained and very weak, and her rigging was so
shattered that they were unable to carry sail, except in moderate
weather. Whilst in company with us she could not hold her position, and
drifted broadside off to leeward. Subsequently her captain carried her
into Mauritius, where she was condemned, and sold, only to be refitted
as a colonial whaler.
One day, while most of the crew were listlessly reclining on the decks,
the extreme heat rendering exertion fatiguing, we were startled by old
Jack singing out from aloft, “The sea-serpent, the sea-serpent!” On
leaping into the rigging, we saw close to us a long, slender object,
in form resembling a snake. It was of a bright scarlet color, and,
although it moved, I think its motion was produced by the undulation
of the waves, and although Jack assured us that he had often seen them
much larger, and was willing to take his Bible oath that this was
the identical sea-serpent about which so many newspaper articles are
written, I am still inclined to think that it was some marine vegetable
production. It was about twenty feet long, and as thick as a man’s
arm; and as the season advanced we saw many of them.
At another time we were startled from inactivity to see a strange
monster, which the boatsteerer on the main topgallant cross-trees,
on being questioned, could give no explanation of; and it certainly
did present an appearance different from anything I had previously
seen. I was prepared to log the advent of a hitherto undescribed, and,
at present, indescribable inhabitant of the deep, when my romance
was knocked in the head by the captain, who, at the height of the
excitement, stepped to the rail, saw it, and immediately decided that
it was a young fin-back whale scooping up its food, which it did by
swimming along with extended jaws.
We had now gradually worked up to the northward, until we had arrived
on our cruising ground for the season. This ground is off Shark’s bay,
and extends between twenty and twenty-three degrees of South latitude,
and from one hundred and seven to one hundred and ten degrees of East
longitude. It bears the reputation of a profitable locality for whalers
to cruise in. The bay derives its name from the presence of myriads of
enormous sharks, and all over the ground, when a whale is alongside,
thousands may be seen surrounding the ship, tearing off pieces of
blubber from the whale, and revelling in his blood. They will bite
at anything. I have seen them pursue our wooden buoy, which is used
for attaching the hawser to the whale’s flukes, as it gradually arose
to the surface of the water, and attempt to crush it between their
hideous jaws; and after finding they could make no impression upon
it, following it up, occasionally nipping at it as if they did not
understand the consistency of an object that resisted their incisors.
On Sunday, April 27th, we lowered away for, and captured a fine
sperm whale. The James Allen’s boats lowered at the same time with
ours; they arrived first to the whale, ran on, and darted; but their
boatsteerer missed, and our waist boat, seizing the opportunity, ran on
and fastened. On the following Sunday we again saw sperm whales, and
captured another; on the succeeding day the weather was boisterous,
but we proceeded, in the face of numerous difficulties, to cut him in:
just as we had got him in a good position for hooking on, the fluke
chain parted, and away he went. We lowered away, and a second time
secured him. In attempting to veer, the whale got under the ship, and
it was only by strenuous tugging and hauling that we raised him. At
length we began to cut, and towards noon had the head severed from
the body; but, after various attempts, we gave up all hopes of saving
it; it was then allowed to tow from the quarter; we then went to work
at the body, and at 5 o’clock in the afternoon had it all aboard. The
weather having moderated, we renewed our efforts to save the head, and
succeeded so far as to get it in tow forward, when the hawser parted;
we next attached a studdingsail tack to it; but, although the rope was
large and new, it parted like packthread. A tub of line was then bent
on, and the head allowed to float astern; but in a short time the strap
attached to the head chain parted, and away it went, a total loss,
leaving us with nothing to console us, except the reflection that we
had done all that men could do, to save it. I noticed throughout this
arduous day’s work, the general alacrity of the crew in striving to do
their utmost, and could not but comment on the advantages of giving
each man a proportion of the vessel’s earnings, instead of monthly
wages; in our case all felt themselves personally interested, and
conducted themselves accordingly.
It will be noticed that three-fifths of our whaling up to this time,
has been on Sunday, and, subsequently, this day of days proved equally
fortunate for us. I do not wish to defend the practice of Sunday
whaling, and think that if a man makes it an invariable rule to
whale only on week days, that Providence would so dispose it that he
should not be a loser. We saw several of these Sunday ships, as they
are called, and in each instance they had quite as much oil as their
neighbors; at the same time, it takes a strong religious bias to induce
a man who depends upon the capture of whales for an early return to
home and friends, after being separated from all that he holds dear,
perhaps for years, to forego attempting their capture on a Sunday. In
fact, the temptation is strong; and, strange to say, most whalers see
greater numbers of whales on the Sabbath than on any other day.
Soon afterwards we met the James Allen. Since we last saw her she
had captured a whale, her first--whose lower jaw was snapped short
off--probably in conflict with another of his species. These creatures
are often terribly scarred, and their teeth indented and broken, as if
another whale had locked jaws with them; in which case something must
start.
In the month of May we gammoned the barque Massasoit, of Mattapoisett,
and from her got several terrapins which she procured in Madagascar.
These creatures had lived in her lower hold for twelve months, we kept
them three more; still, when we killed them we found them quite fat,
and had a delicious meal off them. From this ship we also received a
quantity of Madagascar beans, which were most excellent--surpassing, in
richness and flavor, the best of our beans at home. They are about the
size of the Lima bean, the skin being covered with black spots.
On the 23d of May we spoke the barque Ann, of Sag Harbor, and from her
received papers five and a half months old; they were treasures to us,
and were read with intense interest, advertisements and all coming
in for a share of attention; these papers were full of anticipated
troubles with England, and, of course, this prospect of a war was the
favorite topic. Like all Americans, we felt the superiority of the
universal Yankee nation, and had no fears as to the result in case of
a war with John Bull; and, from the general tenor of the conversation,
I should infer that, in case of emergency, the whalemen would be found
amongst the most strenuous supporters of both army and navy. Another
light also was cast on the subject by some one hoping that we should be
ordered home; and as a war would raise the price of oil, and induce an
earlier return home, both topics of intense interest to us, it cannot
be wondered that we were so much engrossed by them.
As I before said, we shipped two new men in the Vasse; one of these
was, according to his own account, a renowned pugilist, and had fought
and conquered in a dozen fights in the English ring. He was allowed
to vapor for a long time, but one pleasant evening, he went so far as
to offer to fight any man in the forecastle for an English sovereign.
His offer was instantly accepted, and a mere boy was chosen as his
antagonist. In less time than is occupied in the narration, the bully
was describing some queer figures on the forecastle deck--tumbling in
and out of bunks, over chests and kegs, all the time begging piteously
to be let go. After a few minutes of this violent exercise, he was
allowed to get up, thoroughly convinced that a Yankee hug was at any
time a puzzle for an English pugilist. The following morning he went
to the captain to complain of his ill usage, but the “old skipper”
had already been informed of the merits and demerits of the case, and
received the complainant with an order to clear out and not bother
him; but he was too anxious to make himself heard, and, persisting
in his cock and bull story until the captain was out of patience, he
was rewarded for his pains by an application of the old man’s heavy
boot to his posterior, and a box alongside the ear from his powerful
hand, that sent him forward lamenting, with more alacrity than he had
before displayed aboard the ship. Previous to this occurrence he had
quarrelled with almost every man in the ship, had refused to obey the
mate and was mastheaded for it, and evidently appeared to think that,
because he was an English subject, he was not bound to conform to the
rules of our vessel.
On the 8th of June, we took our departure from this ground, intending
to touch at the town of Balli, on the island of Lombock, an island a
few degrees to the eastward from Java, about a thousand miles from
our present locality--a long journey in the eyes of a landsman, but to
us, who for months had been tossed and banged about at the caprice of
the wind and wave, it was but a part of our customary life; the trip
presenting no more perils than our ordinary daily occupation. And then
again, the sea watches, which are always stood when sail is carried,
afford a pleasant variation, the long-continued quarter watches having
become extremely tiresome. Many slung their hammocks on deck, the
excessive heat of the weather and the bed-bugs combined--the latter
being always in great numbers in old ships--driving them from their
usual sleeping apartments. I remember seeing our Portuguese appear
on deck one night nearly nude, rubbing himself most vigorously, and
swearing volubly in his own language. On my inquiring of him as to what
was the matter, he answered, that “The darned bread boxes would not let
him sleep.” A dozen remedies were proposed with the utmost apparent
seriousness. One advising him to catch them and drown them; another to
pull their teeth out; whilst a third advised him to smear his bed and
bed-clothes with tar, for then they would stick fast and be unable to
get at him. Jeering and pestering the poor fellow until glad to be rid
of his tormentors on deck, he returned to his uncomfortable couch, and
resigned himself to the tender mercies of his tormentors below.
On our passage up to Balli, which climate has the reputation of
being very unhealthy, the captain advised a thorough cleansing and
whitewashing of the forecastle. No sooner said than done. The try
works were pressed into the service, a fire made, the pots filled with
salt water, and, whilst it was heating, the chests, berth furniture,
bed-clothes, and every other movable article, were removed on deck, and
buckets of boiling hot water dashed all over it. Then the whitewash was
mixed, and with a piece of canvass, the ship not being able to boast
the possession of a whitewash brush, a thorough coat was daubed over
everything, and things made to wear a clean and cheerful appearance.
The old duds assembled on deck formed a curious collection, and as I
noticed them I fancied that I could read the character of the owner by
the appearance of each, and the circumstances under which he left home.
The neatly painted chest, comfortable mattrass and quilt, prepared by
the careful hands of some fond mother or sister, fully proved that
their owner was a New Bedford boy, whose friends knew precisely what
would conduce to his comfort when separated from them by thousands
of miles of ocean waste; whilst the common straw bed, rude pine
box, outfit quilt, with the padding run into one corner, and coarse
blankets, testified that their owner was a reckless, careless fellow,
who, at the time he shipped, cared little for outfit or anything else,
except getting to sea, and, having fallen into the hands of the sharks,
had been shoved aboard and sent afloat with the merest necessaries.
In the pile, too, may be noticed an assemblage of hats and caps that
would make a hatter stare. During the first six months, all the hats
and caps brought from home, without, perhaps one may have been saved
to wear ashore, were blown overboard, for when a man goes up to reef
topsails in a gale, he has as much as he can do to attend to himself
without taking notice of his hat, and, unless it fit him perfectly
tight, he is sure to lose it. Hence, in this collection may be seen
head coverings of kangaroo skin, canvass, dungaree, cloth, and other
materials, in every conceivable shape and make; also straw hats,
made by the native of the Spice Islands, the Arab of the coast of
Africa, the Madagascar negro, the swarthy Portuguese, and the Malay;
all fabricated of different materials, and in different styles; all
answering, equally well, the purpose for which they are designed--that
of protecting the wearer from the seething sun, which has such power in
the native countries of their fabricators.
After beating about two weeks--the variability of the winds delaying
our passage thus long, while, with a favorable wind and plenty of
it, we would have accomplished it in ninety-six hours--we hove in
sight of the island of Sumbawa--the James Allen accompanying us.
After running for some distance along its coast, delighted with the
scenery--every rock and crevice being covered with vegetation of the
richest green, clusters of cocoa-nut trees rising in every direction,
and all the beauties of tropical verdure opening to our delighted
visions--a mountain, said to be volcanic, came in for a due share of
our attention. Soon we entered the Straits of Allas, and saw Balli
Peak, a mountain of considerable altitude, covered with vegetation.
Whilst at the mouth of the straits, we were greeted with a sight of a
water-spout--a phenomena so often described that for me to attempt it
would be superfluous. I will only state that sailors have a belief
that the water of which they are composed, although coming from the
ocean, undergoes, through the sun’s rays, a distillation that deprives
it of its salt. After we entered the straits, we alternately had a
succession of calms and light breezes which detained us for some time;
but, finally, we came to anchor about a mile from the town, in ten
fathoms of water--the James Allen being within a stone’s throw of us.
Near us was a coral reef, which prevents craft, except of light draught
of water, from approaching closer to the town. A number of the native
vessels lay inside of us loading with rice. These vessels are known
as proas--some of them are good sized; they are flat-bottomed, draw
but very little water, and are painted in rude, barbaric style. All
that I saw of any size were rigged as barques, their sails being mats,
manufactured from leaves neatly connected so as to present the surface
to the wind.