On the 7th, after having, during the preceding week, seen and lowered
for whales several times, our masthead’sman sung out that the James
Allen’s boats were whaling. She was some distance from us; but we
lowered away, and arrived in time to find they had turned up a large
whale. This was the fifth she had taken within the past eight weeks,
making her three hundred and seventy-five barrels of oil. Our boats
returned to the ship empty handed; and, as is usual when another
ship has been successful, we all indulged in a regular growl at the
hardness of our luck, complaining that we could capture nothing,
whilst others were filling their ships. But, to view the matter
impartially, we were having returned to us a Roland for the Oliver we
presented to them whilst on the Shark’s Bay Ground; in that vicinity
the success being all on our side. The next day, as if our bearishness
had been productive of good effect, at daylight we sighted sperm
whales. We lowered away three boats; the desertion of our men in the
bay, rendering it impossible for us to lower four boats and leave a
sufficient number aboard to work the ship in case of need. Directly
after lowering, the first and third mates struck large whales; after
remaining fast for a short time, the irons belonging to the larboard
boat drew--the boatsteerer had had a long dart, and struck the fish
in his small, where there was not sufficient blubber for the iron
to take firm hold. The other fish, to which the starboard boat was
attached, was going at the rate of I do not know how many knots an
hour, breaching, curvetting--now with his head out of water, and,
again, with his flukes reared high in the air, presenting all sorts of
resistance that characterize the right or sperm whale--snapping his
huge jaws together, and lashing the water, left and right, with his
flukes. For a time he kept running along at a rate that deterred the
other boats from approaching him; but, finally, the chief mate managed
to get a line from the bow boat, which was taken in tow. The whale
continued running for some time after; when he halted for a moment, the
mate, watching his opportunity, hauled his boat on to him, and, with a
well-aimed lance, stopped his running forever. We soon afterwards got
him alongside. He was a noble specimen of the cachalot, exceeding in
size any one we had previously taken. On account of the heavy weather
incident to this coast, we took time by the forelock, and cut him in
that same night. It was calm and the moon was at its full, whilst
scarcely a ripple disturbed the surface of the ocean, so that we had
an excellent time. At midnight nearly all was on deck. The following
morning we hove in the junk, and bailed the case--the immense weight of
the latter preventing us from hoisting it aboard. This whale yielded us
one hundred and ten barrels of oil.
It will be seen that whales are plenty off the coast of New Zealand,
and the query may be raised, why are not more captured? But seeing
whales is not taking them, and killing them is not securing them; as
may be exemplified by the case of the Prince Regent: whilst near us,
she captured two large whales, but lost them both from the severity
of the weather. The Flying Childers, too, lost the greater part of
another. The James Allen, however, was more fortunate. One day, after
having by the most strenuous exertions succeeded in getting in a
whale which they had taken the previous day, sperm whales came up
close to the ship. The mate wanted to lower; but the captain, deeming
the weather so boisterous as to make such a proceeding injudicious,
refused his consent. The mate then went below, charged his gun, and
fired a bomb-lance into the whale with such effect, that on rising
again he discharged blood from his spout-holes, appeared bewildered,
and attempted to grasp the sides of the ship with his jaws. By this
time all hands were thoroughly excited; and on the spur of the moment,
although the experiment was a hazardous one, a boat was lowered away,
which, though stoven by coming into contact with the fish, yet managed
to save him.
I will here take occasion to relate another fish-story, which emanated
from the James Allen. Her boats had been down for several hours, and
when lying still, awaiting the re-appearance of a school of sperm
whales that had sounded, a strange fish, in size between the grampus
and whale, rushed by them with open jaws. He kept on for a short
distance, then about-ship, and returned. Both jaws were furnished with
sharp, wicked-looking grinders. Deeming discretion the better part of
valor, they gave his fishship a wide berth. He did not, they said,
appear to be in pursuit of them, but kept on his way, unmolesting, and
unmolested.
On the 25th we lowered for blackfish, and captured six, which yielded
us ten barrels of oil. These fish, like the whales on this coast,
are fatter than they are elsewhere, and average larger. Two days
afterwards we gammoned with the barque Emily Downing, of Hobartown.
She reported, that on the day we were blackfishing she had sighted two
schools of sperm whales. Swinging only three boats, the captain and
second mate went in pursuit of one school, and the mate of the other.
The last seen of the mate’s boat he was close to the whales, and his
boatsteerer standing up, preparatory to darting, when a thick fog
enveloped everything. The two boats in company proceeded to regain the
ship, which they did with much difficulty; and had not those on board
kept up a continual ringing of their ship’s bell to guide them, the
probabilities are, that they would have fared no better than the mate
and his crew, who had neither been seen nor heard of since. Conjectures
were rife as to their probable fate: some surmising that the boat had
been stoven, and all hands lost; others thought that, as the mate
was a prudent man, of much experience, and well knew the locality of
the land, he would most likely direct his boat straightway to it,
and lose no time in searching for their ship. The latter were right,
as was proved on the 30th, when the Downing and we were in company,
lying under short sail,--a fresh breeze blowing, with a heavy sea in
attendance--our mastheadsman apprised us, that there were several
sails off our weather-beam, squared in, and standing directly for
us--coming down before the half gale like racehorses. We at first
thought that they were whaling; but as they neared us, and we saw that
they all had their colors flying, we at once suspected the true reason
for their manœuvring. In a short time, the barque Isabella ran across
our stern, spoke us, and informed us of the safety of the missing ones;
and that all, though weak and exhausted, were as well as circumstances
would permit. This was glorious news, and was received with hearty
cheers. Later in the afternoon we learned that the poor fellows had
been five days in their boat, with nothing to eat, except half-a-dozen
biscuits, an albatross that they had killed by darting a lance into
it, and a piece of squid that they managed to pick up. The latter,
they said, was not very recent; but, in their necessity, it was to
them tall eating, and they were disposed to grumble at the quantity,
rather than the quality of their food. They said that they had made
for the land immediately on finding that they had lost their ship, but
had not succeeded in reaching it until Sunday. As they approached it,
they fortunately discovered the ship James Allen close-to. They made
for her--told their story--were taken on board, and everything that
could be afforded for their comfort was plentifully supplied to them.
They were much emaciated by their long fast and exposure; but under the
genial influence of good victuals and their present position, they were
gradually recovering their wonted hardy condition. The James Allen,
being in the course of a few days bound off the ground to Hobartown,
handed over the missing ones to the barque Isabella, who placed them
aboard their own vessel. Their shipmates--as did all the members of
the fleet--expressed the greatest joy and satisfaction at the recovery
of these poor fellows; for we could all sympathize with them in their
forlorn situation, inasmuch as we were at any time liable to meet with
a like accident whilst engaged in our present pursuit.
Among the vessels that ran down to us was the ship Gœthe, of Bremen,
Captain Austin. This was the first German whaler that we had seen
during our voyage. She had been cruising for right whales off the
islands of St. Paul and Desolation, and had taken nine hundred
barrels of oil--two hundred of which she disposed of in Hobartown.
In that port, which she had recently left, she lost a number of her
men by desertion. Her captain, officers, and three-fourths of her
boatsteerers, were Americans; and, although most of her foremastmen
were Germans, all duty was carried on in English. She is a Bremen-built
ship, of about six hundred tons, and well-looking--originally a packet
between Bremen and New York, from which line of trade she was not
removed any too soon, for she is the dullest sailer I ever saw. She
carried (independent of her whaling-tackle, which was American,) an
assorted cargo of German fancy-goods--accordeons, flutinas, drums,
violins, flutes, &c.--also tobacco and schnapps; which she disposed of,
either in the various ports she touched at, or to the ships she met
with in want of such articles; and as there is no duty on the high seas
upon these goods, I have no doubt that a considerable amount will be
realized by her owners.
From this date until the 11th of July we experienced a succession
of heavy gales, with a very slight proportion of moderate weather;
and we observed that the squid was floating on the surface in great
quantities. The entire absence of whales and blackfish caused us to
conclude that some disease had affected the squid, causing it to die
and appear on the surface, and also rendering it unpalatable to the
fish. Deeming it of little use to remain longer, we bade adieu to New
Zealand; and, with square yards and a fair, though light wind, we stood
away from it. Its high cliffs were discernable the next day, when by
computation we were one hundred and twenty miles distant. And now, that
we had left its snow-capped mountains, its heavy gales, dense fogs,
and cold, inhospitable climate, behind us, we rejoiced in the prospect
of warmer and pleasanter cruising-grounds; leaving no regrets, but all
glad to get away: the four months we had passed off its shores being a
series of unpleasant days, that would have dissatisfied less mercurial
persons than sailors.
On account of the prevalent westerly winds, we were forced to run
several degrees to the northward. On our passage to Hobartown we
crossed the middle ground (which is midway between New Zealand and New
Holland). This is a famous ground for sperm whales, and did not, in
this case, belie its reputation--we seeing a school, whilst crossing
it. We lowered for, but scared them, much to our discontent. We made
no stay here, but steered directly for Van Dieman’s Land; and on the
21st were becalmed in sight of it. The next evening we took a pilot
aboard, and the following morning passed the Iron Pot light, and
entered the Derwent river. This is a noble stream, two and a half
miles wide, and navigable for one hundred. The country on both sides
of the river appeared fertile, and it being the proper season of the
year, in this latitude, for the husbandman to break the ground and
plant his seeds, the agriculturists of the section were to be seen
intent on such employment. Some of our crew, whilst closely watching
these busy laborers, thought of their earlier youth, when, like them,
they followed a kind father or elder brother in their occupations
around their farms at home, and on contrasting their present rough
and boisterous calling with the more peaceful and quiet one they were
formerly engaged in, they were rather disposed to think the farmer
had the best of it; and several expressed a willingness to exchange
conditions with them. They may have been sincere, but I doubt it; as
those who have been employed in agricultural pursuits, after once
becoming identified with whaling by the performance of a voyage,
although they may inveigh against its hardships and discomforts, rarely
fail to go again. Why this is, is easily deduced. In the first place,
in their old calling, there is too much work for them after leading
the lazy, rollicking sailor’s life aboard a whaleship, where the
regulations of the service allow him four or five hours sleep (without
whales are in sight) in the daytime. A man has little inclination to
labor from sun to sun. Again, in rural localities, there is a degree
of wonder and interest attaching to a sailor, that makes him feel
flattered by the special attention displayed towards him; and, after
spinning all his marvellous yarns to an admiring audience, he feels it
incumbent upon him to keep up the character by again embarking, with
the prospect of returning in the possession of new stories and songs.
Going up the Derwent we saw many fine farms, with neat and commodious
tenements upon them. The river itself was studded by small craft,
engaged in carrying produce to the city of Hobartown. A part of them
possess the curious cognomen of “she oakers;” these are a distinctive
class from the others, and are employed in the conveyance of the she
oak, prepared for fuel, to market. On nearing the town, we discovered
the James Allen at anchor, and found, beside her, twenty or thirty
vessels--all sailing under the English flag, except a Dutch brig, and
we two Yankees. At 8 o’clock P. M. we came to anchor within a short
distance of the town, or rather the city.
No sooner was our ground-tackle down than boats were alongside
containing prostitutes, who here, as elsewhere, claim Jack Tar as
their especial property. They boarded us, extended invitations to
all, when they came ashore, to call upon them; and with the most
unblushing assurance, indulged in libidinous promises of the advantages
possessed by their establishments over all others, and vaunting their
superiority over anything of the kind in the city. Some of these frail
ones delighted in most euphonious names, one was Double-Jointed Polly,
another, Slippery Liz, another, Polly, the Jumper, and other equally
select and high-sounding appellations, which they seemed proud enough
of.
Directly we were secure, the mate of the James Allen boarded us,
and informed us of the total loss of the barque Henry H. Crapo, of
Dartmouth, Massachusetts, with the destruction of all the crew, fore
and aft, excepting the captain and a Sandwich Islander, who were picked
up by an English steamship, after thirty-six hours immersion in the
ocean. It appears that whilst off the Cape of Good Hope, she was struck
aback by a heavy squall that tripped her up. The two persons saved
sprang to cut away the rigging, to save her and give her opportunity
to right again, when they were washed overboard. Coming in contact
with part of a whale-boat, and a cutting-stage with lanyards attached,
they constructed a raft, on which they were saved. At the time of
the accident one watch was aloft furling the foretopsail. This craft
previously bore the reputation of being tricky, having, according to
the account of those who had been in her, several times before been on
her beam ends. All her crew were known to us, and we had seen them, but
a few months previous, rejoicing in the prospect of a speedy arrival at
home.
On the 23d and 24th we were busily occupied in breaking out and getting
ashore our right whale oil. After getting it all in casks, we launched
it overboard, and, with four boats fully manned, the crews of all
joining in a rattling, heaving song, we towed the casks along before
the city front, attracting hundreds of the citizens to the wharves to
witness the method of the Yankees at work. They seemed to be satisfied
by their scrutiny, that we were the smartest nation in all creation. I
heard one of them say, “They are a bloody smart set of young fellows,
and no bloody mistake;” and, indeed, to judge from the appearance
of the specimens of the two races here exhibited, the denizens of
the city presented a worn, dissipated aspect, whilst our boys, fresh
from the sea, with cheerful countenances and sprightly motion, looked
capable of any amount of exertion. Directly opposite where we lay was
the Government barracks, and the presence of the red-coated sentries,
with their periodical cry of “All’s well” resounding through the
air, strangely jarred on an American ear. Speaking in terms easily
understood of monarchical governments and their hirelings, this town is
indeed little else but a collection of people under martial subjection;
the character of the inhabitants, and their antecedents, rendering them
subjects of peculiar care to the British government; and to ensure
their good behavior, a regiment of these scarlet-coated gentry, who
have seen actual service, are permanently stationed here. By their
presence, rather than any work they are called upon to perform, these
people are intimidated into decorum. Sentries are stationed before the
governor’s house and the various public buildings, and a nightly patrol
is placed near the water. They are continually to be seen walking about
the streets accompanied by the handsomest females in the place. This
seems a peculiar privilege of the soldier--no matter where you go, you
will always see him with a pretty girl; his continual presence on one
station giving him an immense advantage over the sailor; and then,
too, the color of his coat is so much more gay than the modest blue,
that, in the eyes of the lass that loves display, Jack stands no chance
against his hereditary rival.
Just above the town there is an eminence, mounted with heavy artillery,
which commands the harbor. It is laid out with taste; but, being little
versed in military science, I can neither vouch for, nor detract from
its effectiveness. It is a favorite resort for the citizens, and is
often the theatre of prize-fights, which take place, not only between
the male, but also the female part of creation. During our stay,
two courtezans fought for a pound a side, and battled away for some
fifteen or twenty rounds, when the police arrived at the scene of
combat, and conveyed the participators and a number of the spectators
to the lock-up. The police force is well organized and effective, and
patrol the streets night and day. In conjunction with the soldiers,
they are the guardians of the public peace; and one would think that,
being coadjutors, friendly relations existed between them; but, on
the contrary, many and bloody battles occur. The soldier hates the
policeman, and the policeman fears the soldier. If the policeman
detects the soldier in any little peccadillo, he without more ado
arrests him, if he be alone, and there is no prospect of falling in
with any of his captive’s comrades; but, woe betide him! if in an
unguarded moment he has counted without his host--they flock around him
with wondrous alacrity, take off their belts, and with these effective
weapons soon beat off the police with their staves, and decamp in
triumph.
During the three days we lay here, before going ashore on liberty,
numbers of young women visited both ships, professedly for the purpose
of obtaining washing; but, no matter how respectable or tidy they
looked, their vulgar breeding would display itself before they left.
Two of them got into a fracas on board the James Allen; and, after
indulging in every expletive in and out of the Billingsgate vocabulary,
were about settling their difficulty pugilistically, but were
restrained by the mate’s peremptorily ordering them into their boat.
On their showing some reluctance at starting, he threatened them that
they should never again come aboard, unless they obeyed. This had the
desired effect, and they went away, to settle the matter ashore.
A short time previous to our arrival, the water-police for the
suppression of smuggling had been abolished; and, scarcely was our
anchor down, when the watermen came aboard, to bargain for tobacco and
other contraband articles.
Hobartown, from the water, does not present a striking appearance.
Apart from the military and the public buildings, there are but few
objects of interest to the beholder, excepting several churches,
and a huge windmill, perched on a tower, where corn is ground. The
town is scattered, or rather the buildings are--which amounts to the
same thing,--over a considerable area. Its population is variously
estimated, from fifteen to sixty thousand; I having been assured by
at least a dozen respectable, intelligent citizens, that both these
numbers were correct. In the absence of a certified copy of the census,
I will establish a mean between the two, and estimate it at less
than forty thousand. Its streets are laid out at right-angles with
each other: the foot-path is paved with flags, and the carriage-way
macadamized. The city is lighted with gas, the works for which were
imported from England. Several of the streets present a business-like
and animated appearance; particularly Murray and Liverpool streets,
which contain the business-marts--the latter, like Chatham street, New
York, or South street, Philadelphia, (both of which thoroughfares I
have mentioned before,) being the place of business for pawnbrokers,
Jews, old-clothes-dealers, haberdashers, &c. At almost every step a
groggery stares you in the face, and a glance within will assure you
that they do not lack patronage. It is not unusual to see a husband
and his wife, whose dress and appearance betoken an acquaintance with
better circles, standing at the bar, and partaking from the hands of
the rumseller of the beverage that intoxicates. I know of nothing that
more disgusted me, during my whole absence from home, than witnessing
two females, each with an infant in her arms, settling some domestic
concerns, and ratifying the settlement with a nobbler.
But here I have been describing Hobartown, when as yet I have not been
ashore. The last date I gave was I believe the 25th, and the 26th
being Sunday, on the day succeeding it, which was liberty day, all
were busily employed in washing, barbarizing, and attempting to change
our semi-barbaric appearance into a more civilized one; so as to be
enabled to make some pretension to being ladies’ men, and enter the
lists for feminine favor with the landlubbers ashore. After beautifying
our persons as much as our means would permit, long togs and other
clothing, that had been stowed away in the corners of donkeys for many
months, were ferreted out; and, when we had donned them, we presented
a pretty creditable appearance. Thus unusually attired, and feeling
something like fish out of water, we jumped into the boat, and started
for the shore.
On once more arriving among houses, streets, and marts for business,
after a two-years’ exile from them, thoughts of my own happy home
rushed up in my memory, and bitterly did I deplore my foolishness
in having left it; but soon, in the contemplation of new objects,
I cheered up, and began my peregrinations through the city, with a
determination to criticize everything impartially, whether English or
colonial.
The most prominent objects, were the very conspicuous signs of the
different groggeries, among which I noticed one, on the corner of two
streets, with large letters, to the effect that it was the General
Washington House; and a few steps further on was the Virginia House:
fully attesting that some wandering Yankee, who still retained his
American bias, (and where is there a son of our native land--no
matter how long he has been absent--that does not retain it?) had
squatted here, and christened these two sinks. Amongst other names, I
also noticed, the Marquis of Waterford, the Garrick’s Head, Handsome
Bar-Maid, White Swan, Inkermann Arms, &c. Many of these were houses of
ill-fame or assignation.
Before going ashore, our captain, in a short, but pithy address,
strongly recommended to us the necessity of avoiding the allurements of
the various shipping-agents located here. Seamen were scarce, and these
harpies, ever on the look-out for American seamen--more particularly
whalemen, to whom, in order to secure them, they will at any time
give the post of boatsteerer--made many offers to induce our men to
desert. The captain mentioned the fact, that no American whaler had
ever made this port without losing a part of her crew, and urged us
to be an exception to the rule. He then stated, that there was not a
man or boy in his ship, whom he wanted to part with; and wound up his
address by warning us particularly against a worthy, whose sobriquet
was Peg-legged Johnson. What his real name was, I do not know. He
had a wooden leg, and a brilliant reputation, all over the Indian
and South Pacific oceans, for stowing away seamen who deserted from
their vessels; and then, on the offer of a reward by their captains,
returning them. The captain’s advice was well timed, and had a good
effect. It was otherwise with the James Allen’s crew, as will be
disclosed as I proceed.
Some six months previous a number of our ship’s company had instituted
a temperance pledge, which had ten signers, none of whom deviated from
it, and, indeed, I did not see a single case of inebriety amongst our
crew during our stay in Hobartown. I mention this as a sort of salvo to
the general intemperate reputation of seafaring men.
Going through the streets, I was much surprised at the number and
variety of the occupations of the hawkers crying their wares. Here one
was calling at the top of his voice “Long, strong, and three yards
long, all for a two-pence;” he had shoe-strings for sale. Another was
vending hot sevilloys, a compound resembling a sausage; whilst another,
with a bell in hand, was lauding the superiority of his establishment
for the purchase and sale of second-hand clothing; and a multitude
of others were striving to vociferate louder than their competitors
their claims to the attention of purchasers of oysters, oranges, nuts,
&c. Besides these notorieties, in every street there was an unusual
number of blind beggars. I for a time kept handing a small sum to each
of these mendicants; but soon gave up charity, as I found that it was
deleterious to the state of my exchequer; money being worth twenty-five
cents advance on the dollar here, and therefore a commodity not very
liberally forked over by our captain. On stating my suspicions that
some of these people were impostors, I was assured to the contrary;
my informant saying that the climate was hurtful to the eyes--a
film, somewhat resembling the cataract, covering and destroying the
sight--a disease easily remedied by the knife of a skilful optician.
The government supplies an asylum for these unfortunates, but many of
them prefer strolling about the streets, to confinement in such an
institution. Many of them are attended by dogs, who lead them about
with precision.
Soon after I went ashore I came in contact with a young American, who
had been located in the city for several years. Of course, our being
from the same State, betrayed us in a review of the place of our
birth, into a friendly intimacy. I asked him his opinion of Hobartown,
and shall never forget his answer; it was, that “lewdness filled the
streets, licentiousness the houses, and profanity the air.” Although
not prepared to endorse his sentiments in toto, I must confess that he
was not very wide of the mark; and, whilst I have him in remembrance, I
may as well review the opportunities offered by this part of Australia
to induce young men to emigrate to its shores. The state of society,
makes those engaged in business here, whenever they find a young
man coming to their neighborhood with the character of an honest
man, anxious to secure his services, and offer him a good recompense
for them. During my stay on the coast, I, in several cases, had such
offers tendered me; and, although in a pecuniary point of view they
were advantageous, I have never once regretted not accepting. In nine
cases out of ten, where young Americans have taken up their residence
here, they have, however repugnant the habit may have at first appeared
to them, contracted a taste for alcohol, and not having, like these
people, been accustomed to imbibe it from childhood, soon became sots.
Hence the reluctance of captains of whaleships to discharge on the
coast any of their crew in whom they take an interest; well knowing
that among such companions moral or intellectual improvement is out of
the question.
As the lower class of the population, more particularly the female
portion, consider the sailor fair game, our ship was continually the
scene of their visits. Although we were at first quite pleased, and
felt enlivened by the presence of the fairer part of creation aboard
our floating home, we shortly discovered that we were only favored with
their company from interested motives; and, therefore, after several
visits had passed, but little more attention was paid to them, except
by the idlers, who were glad to have any object to assist them in
whiling away their time.
Great attention was paid by these dames to the younger members of our
crew, whom they hoped, on account of their inexperience, easily to
dupe; but it was only on one occasion, (the eve of our sailing,) that
any encouragement was extended to induce them to prolong their visit
aboard our ship. On that evening--fancying that we had some stray
shillings in the corners of our pockets, and wishing to relieve us of
an article that would be of no use to us when at sea--they came off to
the number of a score; and as their blandishments could produce no ill
effect, (for none of us wanted to go ashore again at Hobartown,) our
accordeon-player was pressed into service, the quarter-deck cleared
away, and all hands indulged in dancing--officers, men, and visitors
taking a part. The presence of the officers, and respect for the old
ship, restrained those whose buoyancy of spirit would otherwise have
led them to run riot.
After being tired out with dancing, singing was substituted; and,
take it all in all, it was about as merry an evening as could well be
passed. All parties, before entering into these gayeties, had been
pledged to decorum; and, as there were no intoxicating liquors, by an
indulgence in which any one might be led to forget his or her sense of
propriety, nothing was said or done that could have called a blush to
the most modest cheek: a circumstance, the more remarkable, when the
motley character of the assemblage is remembered.
There are several establishments in the city, professedly theaters, but
really houses of questionable character, where dancing, in which all
the audience indulge, is by far the greatest part of the performance.
One of these houses my curiosity led me to enter. Having paid over my
shilling to the door-tender, I was ushered into a small amphitheater.
On its stage sat five performers, whose faces were blackened with
burned cork. They were attempting to give delineations of Ethiopian
characteristics; but, although the audience seemed delighted with the
performance, their brogue smacked more of the Paddy or Sandy than of
that of the Virginia Darkie.
It is to be deplored that such establishments so often entrap the
unwary sailor; who, on his liberty-day, bent upon amusement, his mind
unoccupied, and in possession of funds sufficient to make him an
object of attraction to the harpies who conduct them, is led to enter,
and, ere he is aware, (unless he has a spirit that is proof against
temptation,) they lead him from one folly to another, until he becomes
helplessly intoxicated, and then he is an easy prey to whoever wishes
to plunder him. Strange it is, that, with the victims of such sharks
continually before his eyes in every seaport he visits, he should still
persist in entering such places. He certainly does not do it blindly,
but with a culpable recklessness, that is almost inexcusable. He will
not stop to consider what may be the consequences of the first steps he
takes in the path of sin. He is never deterred from his evil course by
viewing the wreck of his fortune; for, when utterly impoverished by his
heedless career on land, he again returns to his favorite element, upon
whose broad expanse, or in whose mighty deeps, he sanguinely expects
to regain all his treasure. He scorns to reflect upon the vile arts by
which he has been debarred from the field of fair sailing ashore, nor
regards the foul atmosphere of the brothel as more to be shunned than
the spray. So, at sea, he thinks not of danger, when the storm king
in his wrath is sweeping over the surface of the ocean, but goes aloft
unfaltering, although surrounded by the elemental war.
The Hobartown market is abundantly furnished with most excellent
meat--the beef I never saw surpassed, and the mutton is excellent.
The principal part of the beeves consumed here are brought from Port
Phillip in small craft known as “bullockers,” and, despite their
uncomfortable passage across the straits, land in excellent condition.
We had plenty of such provender whilst we lay here--the cook, or
steward, having orders to get abundant supplies each morning, except
Sundays--and we did it justice. Although a seaman sighs for fresh
meat, after a long cruise, when he has enjoyed it for several days
his appetite becomes surfeited, and he gladly hunts up salt junk,
and partakes of it with a relish. The consumption for the first and
second days is treble that of the succeeding three. A vessel, several
years ago, touched at a port on the western coast of South America,
for a reason not assigned. There was no fresh meat furnished to the
crew, in lieu of it poultry was substituted, which, for a short time,
was partaken of with relish; but one day the captain was surprised at
seeing his men come aft and complain of their chicken diet, asserting
that they had had too much of it, and could not work upon it. Salt
junk was served out in its place, and the difficulty settled. This
is not an isolated case of the kind; I have read elsewhere, I think
in one of J. Fennimore Cooper’s works, that the Scotch garrisons
originally stationed on the various outposts of Great Britain, on the
lakes, were accustomed to complain when an over supply of venison or
salmon was meted out to them; these articles, to us luxuries, being so
plentiful near their abode, and so often partaken of as to lose their
novelty. At the present writing I have been but a few months without
fresh provisions, and so long a dissertation on the coveted food,
has conjured up to my imagination, visions of fresh and juicy meat,
vegetables in profusion, and amongst other delicacies, last, though
not least, a buckwheat or Johnny cake; neither would a piece of bread
and cheese he out of the way, or any other of the little et ceteras
grateful to the appetite, that the poorest person ashore can command at
will, but which the wanderer on the sea must deny himself when engaged
in a long voyage; the owners generally considering salt junk and hard
bread as the staffs of life at sea.
Daily, whilst here, some one or more of the crew of the James Allen
would cut stick, and defy the most strenuous efforts of the authorities
to recapture them. Finally the crew was reduced to but a moiety of
her usual number. They were restricted to the day ashore, at night
being required to return aboard their ship; those who violated this
restriction were confined altogether to the vessel, and those allowed
to go ashore were put by their captain under the surveillance of the
police, and if found ashore at nightfall, were placed in the lock-up.
Our captain, to secure us from molestation, furnished us with passes to
the effect that, by his permission our liberty extended for twenty-four
hours; but as our men behaved themselves in the most decorous manner,
they were never interfered with; and I do not remember having heard of
a single instance where they were required to show their passes.
This passport system was a feature worthy of the worst despotism of
the Old World. Here were we, a body of Americans, visiting an English
harbor, after a long confinement aboard ship at sea, debarred from
enjoying our rambles on shore with perfect freedom, and feeling
ourselves liable at any moment to be stopped by the police, and have
our passports demanded. And why? Forsooth, was this done, because
several of the James Allen’s crew--disgusted either with whaling, the
sea, or the harshness of the discipline aboard that ship--chose to
remain ashore? To be sure, they had all signed the ship’s articles,
and agreed to remain as part of her crew during the continuance of
her voyage, and by leaving her here they violated the letter of their
agreement; but when it is remembered, that the greater proportion of
those now deserting, at the time of joining the vessel and registering
their names, were minors--totally ignorant of what their duties and
hardships might be--their offence appears to be merely venial. And,
again, the captain is also bound by these articles and by the maritime
laws of the United States; and, if he has observed those laws in letter
and spirit, he will be entitled to sympathy, should his men desert him.
But, unfortunately, as soon as a ship is outside of land, and away from
the jurisdiction of our courts, the captain is too apt to consider
himself as the law and all its officers. He is, emphatically, when on
the high seas, himself the judge and jury; from his decision there is
no appeal, and to his fiat the seamen under his command must submit.
Now, should he be guilty of gross personal abuse, or otherwise injure
any of his men, or by a system of petty annoyances, render a situation
under him unpleasant and uncomfortable, who will say that the party
so injured or offended may not withdraw from the ship? The captain,
however, will not let him go. What, then, shall he do? Life is a burden
to him whilst under the espionage of his tormentor. His remedy, the
superficial observer at once would say, would be to throw himself and
his complaints on the consideration of the American consul, and demand
justice. I will merely relate a case that happened at the American
Consular Agent’s Office in Hobartown, (the agent, by the way, was not
an American,) to wit:
At Flores we received aboard a Portuguese, without an agreement. He
remained with us, as one of the crew, up to the time of our arrival at
Hobartown, and had become a pretty good seaman. One liberty-day, as
he was going ashore, the captain said to him he wished that he would
accompany him to the consul’s office, and have his name put upon the
ship’s articles. The Portuguese assented; but, previous to this, the
shipping agents of the town had conferred with him, and, discovering
that he was not bound to the ship, had offered him a seaman’s wages
to sail in their employ; consequently, he imbibed a notion of the
real value of his services, and when taken to the consul’s office
and offered a landsman’s lay by the captain, he demanded a greater
proportion of the vessel’s earnings--one commensurate with his
services. His remonstrance was answered by a box on the ear; and he was
taken to the wharf, put in a boatman’s charge, and conveyed to our
vessel; from which time he was not allowed to go ashore again whilst we
remained in the harbor.
It may be seen, from the result in this instance, that men have
but little encouragement to apply to the consul. What, then, shall
they do? The English courts will not receive an American seaman’s
complaints--stating that they have no jurisdiction in such a case; but,
at the same time, they will grant to the captain of a vessel warrants
for the arrest and detention of any of his crew who may desert.
Thus, both these avenues to justice and right are in a measure closed
against the sailor; but, even were they open, I doubt whether Jack
would resort to them. Taught by experience, as well as from the
prejudice of ignorance, he cherishes a strong antipathy toward both the
law and its executors; for which reason, he does not care to prefer a
complaint in a court of justice, but would rather forswear its promised
shelter, and take the seemingly shorter and easier method offered by
desertion, to gain a release from tyranny or exemption from unbearable
wrongs. In adopting the latter course, however, it not unfrequently
happens, that, instead of having improved his condition, he finds, to
use a homely adage, that he has jumped out of the frying-pan into the
fire.
But I must resume my narrative, and speak of the colonists, among whom
there is a generation now rising who have been born on the island.
They are known as Van Diemanians or Tasmanians. The males are large,
fine-looking fellows, and the females generally possess some beauty and
intelligence.
This city having considerable whaling trade, there is a corresponding
interest taken in everything pertaining to that pursuit. For instance,
all the boats that ply about the city front, large or small, are in
the form of a whale-boat. Regattas are held, under the patronage of
the colonial government, at which various prizes are distributed to
the victorious crews of the successful boats: and now for a word about
these boats. During the voyage we had two of them, one of which was
purchased from the Flying Childers, when we were off the coast of New
Zealand, in exchange for tobacco--the other we procured in Hobartown.
The former had taken a prize at the regatta; and, therefore, I think we
maybe said to have had fair specimens of the manufacture. These boats
are longer, sharper, higher, and heavier than ours; they are built
of hard wood--there being no wood in this country comparable to our
cedar for the construction of whale-boats. Being heavier, they are of
course more difficult to pull, and, although higher and sharper, some
peculiarity in the model renders them so wet and uncomfortable, that,
to use the words of those who had often got wet jackets whilst in them,
“They do not ride a sea, but pass right through it.” One advantage they
possess in the polished smoothness of their surface, which enables them
to glide through the water with scarcely any perceptible noise, and
approach the whale before he has an inkling of its whereabouts. Many
of these Hobartown vessels totally discard boats manufactured by the
artizans of that town, whilst others vastly prefer them to the American
boat. From experience, I should say that the latter craft, viewed in
every light, is superior; and, again, it has the advantage of being
two-thirds cheaper--the Hobartown boat costing from thirty to fifty
pounds, and the American fifteen or twenty at the most.
We had but little trouble in procuring water, for, if so disposed, a
ship can have it brought alongside; but if not, all that is necessary
is, as we did, to tow a raft of casks to the dock, fill them from
a hose, and then convey them back to the ship. The water is of an
excellent quality, and keeps sweet a long time.
As liberty was given every day, and the watches were ashore
alternately, the privilege of remaining ashore during the night was
extended to each individual. For the convenience of those who were
disposed to return aboard, a boat was sent in at sundown; but it
seldom brought off any of the liberty-men. It was manned by the watch
on duty; so that three-fourths of the ship’s company might be ashore
every night. The boat generally returned before midnight; and it was
customary for the crew that manned it to sing a jolly heaving-song at
the top of their voices--all joining in the chorus; and the nights
being still and serene, the effect produced was rather startling
through the silent harbor.
On the 5th of August all hands were aboard--liberty having been
discontinued--all preparations made for sailing, and no intercourse
allowed with the shore. Many of our crew wished to provide themselves
with little articles for sea-use; but the captain, having all on board,
determined to keep them there, and took the execution of all their
little commissions upon himself. There was, however, no need of this
precaution, in order to confine us on board our ship; for, throughout
the entire day, we did not fail to have many opportunities to desert,
if any of us had felt so disposed, and had availed ourselves of the
watermen’s boats, which were continually arriving at, and departing
from the ship.
In referring to the account of what transpired aboard the ship on the
last night of our stay in the harbor of Hobartown, it may, perhaps, be
said by the strict moralist, that too much latitude of correct moral
principle was allowed by admitting female visitors, whose reputation,
at least, if not their real character, was that of the lowest grade;
inasmuch as by their participation in the gay hilarities of that
evening encouragement was given to the idea, that their guilty course
of life was no hindrance to the realization of lawful and innocent
pleasure. Now, considering the fact that so many youngsters were
comprised in our crew--“young bloods,” of keen susceptibilities for
sport, whom the license of an hour might probably transform into
“fast young men,”--we must acknowledge the apparent justness of this
objection. But, on the other hand, let us consider the relation in
which the captain of a ship stands to his men: it is not one which
authorizes or requires him to assume the care and rod of a parent,
or teacher of morals; but is one which demands a discipline that can
secure their willing, hearty, and effective service. Moreover, it is
impossible fully to control the inclinations of a boy, who likely has
always had his own way at home, and has been sent to sea on account
of a too free indulgence of self-will. I say that it is absolutely
impossible to govern such a stripling, (after his parents have failed,
while he was surrounded by the influences of home,) when separated
fifteen thousand miles from his native country, and after two years
of forecastle life, during which, being continually in the society of
sailors, boys grow to be men in opinion and ideas, and expect to be
treated as such when ashore. As to the expediency of somewhat relaxing
the rigid rules of moral discipline, we may be satisfied by a mere
contrast of the position of our own with the crew of the James Allen
at the same moment. On board the latter, the men had been hectored and
thwarted, and consequently more than one-half had deserted--leaving the
void to be filled up with green hands,--and those who remained were
sullen, dissatisfied, and discontented; whilst our own crew were all
aboard their ship, both cheery and ready to go to sea. The fact of all
the hands that were brought into this port again going out in the ship,
of their own accord, is unprecedented in the annals of the arrival and
departure of American whalers; for, commonly, such vessels lose a half
or two-thirds of their crews. A few months ago, the ship Hunter, of New
Bedford, touched here, and lost a number of her men--several of whom
are now acting as policemen. Our non-success in capturing whales gave
good cause for apprehending that we should meet with a like loss, and
our not doing so may be attributed to the general good treatment which
characterized our ship throughout her voyage. Although not a paradise,
still she was as good as the best of whalers. No overt act of cruelty
or brutality had been exercised on any one of our crew; and therefore
they were now all satisfied again to go afloat in her.
In the morning three new men came aboard: two of them were ordinary
seamen, or as such they represented themselves--one having steered a
boat, and the other having been a year before the mast in a colonial
vessel. If these were fair specimens of colonial seamen, the poorest
must indeed be very low; for none of them knew the compass, or the
rigging, or how to furl a square sail. The whole three were Irishmen,
of the class that are banished from their country for their country’s
good.