whale. John Carr was harpooner and commander of one of them. The whale
they pursued led them into a vast shoal of his own species; they were
so numerous that their blowing was incessant, and they believed that
they did not see fewer than an hundred. Fearful of alarming them
without striking any, they remained for a while motionless. At last
one rose near Carr's boat, and he approached, and fatally for himself,
harpooned it. When he struck, the fish was approaching the boat; and,
passing very rapidly, jerked the line out of its place over the stern,
and threw it upon the gunwale. Its pressure in this unfavorable
position so careened the boat, that the side was pulled under water,
and it began to fill. In this emergency, Carr, who was a brave, active
man, seized the line, and endeavored to relieve the boat by restoring
it to its place; but, by some circumstance which was never accounted
for, a turn of the line flew over his arm, dragged him overboard in an
instant, and drew him under the water, never more to rise. So sudden
was the accident, that only one man, who was watching him, saw what
had happened; so that when the boat righted, which it immediately did,
though half full of water, the whole crew on looking round inquired
what had become of Carr. It is impossible to imagine a death more
awfully sudden and unexpected. The invisible bullet could not have
effected more instantaneous destruction. The velocity of the whale at
its first descent is from thirteen to fifteen feet per second. Now as
this unfortunate man was adjusting the line at the water's very edge,
where it must have been perfectly tight, owing to its obstruction in
running out of the boat, the interval between the fastening the line
about him and his disappearance could not have exceeded the third part
of a second of time, for in one second only he must have been dragged
ten or twelve feet deep. Indeed he had not time for the least
exclamation; and the person who saw his removal, observed that it was
so exceeding quick that though his eye was upon him at the moment, he
could scarcely distinguish his figure as he disappeared.
[Illustration: INSTRUMENTS USED IN THE WHALE FISHERY.
1. A common Harpoon.
2. A Pricker.
3. A sharp Spade, used in cutting up a Whale.
4. A Harpoon which is fired from a gun.
5. A Lance, to kill the Whale after he has been harpooned.]
As soon as the crew recovered from their consternation, they applied
themselves to the needful attention which the lines required. A second
harpoon was struck from the accompanying boat on the raising of the
whale to the surface, and some lances were applied, but this
melancholy occurrence had cast such a damp on all present, that they
became timid and inactive in their subsequent duties. The whale when
nearly exhausted was allowed to remain some minutes unmolested, till
having recovered some degree of energy, it made a violent effort and
tore itself away from both harpoons. The exertions of the crews thus
proved fruitless, and were attended with serious loss.
Innumerable instances might be adduced of the perils and disasters to
which our whalemen are subject; of their never tiring fortitude and
daring enterprise; but we believe the examples we have given alone
will sufficiently convey a full and correct idea of the customs and
dangers of the whale-fishery.
[Illustration]
THE NARWAL, OR SEA-UNICORN,
Is a species of the Whale, and seldom exceeds twenty-two feet long.
Its body is slenderer than that of the whale, and its fat not in so
great abundance. But this great animal is sufficiently distinguished
from all others of the deep, by its tooth or teeth, which stand
pointing directly forward from the upper jaw, and are from nine to ten
feet long. In all the variety of weapons with which nature has armed
her various tribes, there is not one so large or so formidable as
this.--This terrible weapon is generally found single; and some are of
opinion that the animal is furnished with but one by nature; but there
is at present the skull of a Narwal at the Stadthouse at Amsterdam,
with two teeth. The tooth, or, as some are pleased to call it, the
horn of the Narwal, is as straight as an arrow, about the thickness of
the small of a man's leg, wreathed as we sometimes see twisted bars of
iron; it tapers to a sharp point; and is whiter, heavier, and harder
than ivory. It is generally seen to spring from the left side of the
head directly forward in a straight line with the body; and its root
enters into the socket above a foot and a half. Notwithstanding its
appointments for combat, this long and pointed tusk, amazing strength,
and matchless celerity, the Narwal is one of the most harmless and
peaceful inhabitants of the ocean. It is seen constantly and
inoffensively sporting among the other great monsters of the deep, no
way attempting to injure them, but pleased in their company. The
Greenlanders call the Narwal the forerunner of the whale; for wherever
it is seen, the whale is shortly after sure to follow. This may arise
as well from the natural passion for society in these animals, as from
both living upon the same food. These powerful fishes make war upon no
other living creature; and, though furnished with instruments to
spread general destruction, are as innocent and as peaceful as a drove
of oxen. The Narwal is much swifter than the whale, and would never be
taken by the fishermen but for those very tusks, which at first appear
to be its principal defence. These animals are always seen in herds of
several at a time; and whenever they are attacked they crowd together
in such a manner, that they are mutually embarrassed by their tusks.
By these they are often locked together, and are prevented from
sinking to the bottom. It seldom happens, therefore, but the fishermen
make sure of one or two of the hindmost, which very well reward their
trouble.
LOSS OF THE BRIG TYRREL.
In addition to the many dreadful shipwrecks already narrated, the
following, which is a circumstantial account given by T. Purnell,
chief mate of the brig Tyrrel, Arthur Cochlan, commander, and the only
person among the whole crew who had the good fortune to escape, claims
our particular attention.
On Saturday, June 29th, 1759, they sailed from New York to Sandy Hook,
and there came to an anchor, waiting for the captain's coming down
with a new boat, and some other articles. Accordingly he came on board
early the succeeding morning, and the boat cleared, hoisted in, stowed
and lashed. At eight o'clock, A. M. they weighed anchor, sailed out of
Sandy Hook, and the same day at noon, took their departure from the
High Land Never Sunk, and proceeded on their passage to Antigua. As
soon as they made sail, the captain ordered the boat to be cast loose,
in order that she might be painted, with the oars, rudder and tiller,
which job, he (Captain Cochlan) undertook to do himself.
At four P. M. they found the vessel made a little more water, than
usual; but as it did not cause much additional labour at the pump,
nothing was thought of it. At eight, the leak did not seem to
increase. At twelve it began to blow very hard in squalls, which
caused the vessel to lie down very much, whereby it was apprehended
she wanted more ballast. Thereupon the captain came on deck, being the
starboard watch, and close reefed both top-sails.
At four A. M. the weather moderated--let out both reefs:--at eight it
became still more moderate, and they made more sail, and set
top-gallant-sails; the weather was still thick and hazy. There was no
further observation taken at present, except that the vessel made more
water. The captain was now chiefly employed in painting the boat,
oars, rudder and tiller.
On Monday, June 30, at four P. M. the wind was at E. N. E. freshened
very much, and blew so very hard, as occasioned the brig to lie along
in such a manner as caused general alarm. The captain was now
earnestly intreated to put for New York, or steer for the Capes of
Virginia. At eight, took in top-gallant-sail, and close reefed both
top-sails, still making more water. Afterwards the weather became
still more moderate and fair, and they made more sail.
July 1, at four A. M. it began to blow in squalls very hard, took in
one reef in each top-sail, and continued so until eight A. M. the
weather being still thick and hazy.--No observation.
The next day she made still more water, but as every watch pumped it
out, this was little regarded. At four P. M. took second reef in each
top-sail,--close reefed both, and sent down top-gallant-yard; the gale
still increasing.
At four A. M. the wind got round to N. and there was no appearance of
its abating. At eight, the captain well satisfied that she was very
crank and ought to have had more ballast, agreed to make for Bacon
Island Road, in North Carolina; and in the very act of wearing her, a
sudden gust of wind laid her down on her beam-end, and she never rose
again!--At this time Mr. Purnell was lying in the cabin, with his
clothes on, not having pulled them off since they left land.--Having
been rolled out of his bed (on his chest,) with great difficulty he
reached the round-house door; the first salutation he met with was
from the step-ladder that went from the quarter-deck to the poop,
which knocked him against the companion, (a lucky circumstance for
those below, as, by laying the ladder against the companion, it served
both him and the rest of the people who were in the steerage, as a
conveyance to windward); having transported the two after guns forward
to bring her more by the head, in order to make her hold a better
wind; thus they got through the aftermost gun-port on the
quarter-deck, and being all on her broadside, every moveable rolled to
leeward, and as the vessel overset, so did the boat, and turned bottom
upwards, her lashings being cast loose, by order of the captain, and
having no other prospect of saving their lives but by the boat,
Purnell, with two others, and the cabin-boy (who were excellent
swimmers) plunged into the water, and with difficulty righted her,
when she was brim full, and washing with the water's edge. They then
made fast the end of the main-sheet to the ring in her stern-post, and
those who were in the fore-chains sent down the end of the
boom-tackle, to which they made fast the boat's painter, and by which
they lifted her a little out of the water, so that she swam about two
or three inches free, but almost full.
They then put the cabin-boy into her, and gave him a bucket that
happened to float by, and he bailed away as quick as he could, and
soon after another person got in with another bucket, and in a short
time got all the water out of her.--They then put two long oars that
were stowed in the larboard-quarter of the Tyrrel into the boat, and
pulled or rowed right to windward; for, as the wreck drifted, she made
a dreadful appearance in the water, and Mr. Purnell and two of the
people put off from the wreck, in search of the oars, rudder and
tiller. After a long while they succeeded in picking them all up, one
after another. They then returned to their wretched companions, who
were all overjoyed to see them, having given them up for lost. By this
time night drew on very fast. While they were rowing in the boat, some
small quantity of white biscuit (Mr. Purnell supposed about half a
peck,) floated in a small cask, out of the round house; but before it
came to hand, it was so soaked with salt water, that it was almost in
a fluid state: and about double the quantity of common ship-biscuit
likewise floated, which was in like manner soaked. This was all the
provision that they had; not a drop of fresh water could they get;
neither could the carpenter get at any of his tools to scuttle her
sides, for, could this have been accomplished, they might have saved
plenty of provisions and water.
By this time it was almost dark; having got one compass, it was
determined to quit the wreck, and take their chance in the boat, which
was nineteen feet six inches long, and six feet four inches broad; Mr.
Purnell supposes it was now about nine o'clock; it was very dark.
They had run abut 360 miles by their dead reckoning, on a S. E. by E.
course. The number in the boat was 17 in all; the boat was very deep,
and little hopes were entertained of either seeing land or surviving
long. The wind got round to westward, which was the course they wanted
to steer; but it began to blow and rain so very hard, that they were
obliged to keep before the wind and sea, in order to preserve her
above water. Soon after they had put off from the wreck the boat
shipped two heavy seas, one after another, so that they were obliged
to keep her before the wind and sea; for had she shipped another sea,
she certainly would have swamped with them.
By sunrise the next morning, July 3, they judged that they had been
running E. S. E. which was contrary to their wishes. The wind dying
away, the weather became very moderate. The compass which they had
saved proved of no utility, one of the people having trod upon, and
broken it; it was accordingly thrown overboard. They now proposed to
make a sail of some frocks and trowsers, but they had got neither
needles nor sewing twine, one of the people however, had a needle in his
knife, and another several fishing lines in his pockets, which were
unlaid by some, and others were employed in ripping the frocks and
trowsers. By sunset they had provided a tolerable lug-sail; having split
one of the boat's thwarts, (which was of yellow deal,) with a very large
knife, which one of the crew had in his pocket, they made a yard and
lashed it together by the strands of the fore-top-gallant-halyards, that
were thrown into the boat promiscuously.--They also made a mast of one
of the long oars, and set their sails, with sheets and tacks made out of
the top-gallant-halyards. Their only guide was the North star. They had
a tolerable good breeze all night; and the whole of the next day, July
4, the weather continued very moderate, and the people were in as good
spirits as their dreadful situation would admit.
July 5, the wind and weather continued much the same, and they knew by
the North star that they were standing in for the land. The next day
Mr. Purnell observed some of the men drinking salt water, and seeming
rather fatigued.--At this time they imagined the wind was got round to
the southward, and they steered, as they thought by the North star, to
the northwest quarter; but on the 7th, they found the wind had got
back to the northward, and blew very fresh. They got their oars out
the greatest part of the night, and the next day the wind still dying
away, the people laboured alternately at the oars, without
distinction. About noon the wind sprung up so that they laid in their
oars, and, as they thought, steered about N. N. W. and continued so
until about eight or nine in the morning of July 9, when they all
thought they were upon soundings, by the coldness of the water.--They
were, in general, in very good spirits. The weather continued still
thick and hazy, and by the North star, they found that they had been
steering about N. by W.
July 10.--The people had drank so much salt water, that it came from
them as clear as it was before they drank it; and Mr. Purnell
perceived that the second mate had lost a considerable share of his
strength and spirits; and also, at noon, that the carpenter was
delirious, his malady increasing every hour; about dusk he had almost
overset the boat, by attempting to throw himself overboard, and
otherwise behaving quite violent.
As his strength, however, failed him, he became more manageable, and
they got him to lie down in the middle of the boat, among some of the
people. Mr. Purnell drank once a little salt water, but could not
relish it; he preferred his own urine, which he drank occasionally as
he made it. Soon after sunset the second mate lost his speech. Mr.
Purnell desired him to lean his head on him; he died, without a groan
or struggle, on the 11th of July, being the 9th day they were in the
boat. In a few minutes after, the carpenter expired almost in a
similar manner. These melancholy scenes rendered the situation of the
survivors more dreadful; it is impossible to describe their feelings.
Despair became general; every man imagined his own dissolution was
near. They all now went to prayers; some prayed in the Welch language,
some in Irish, and others in English; then, after a little
deliberation, they stripped the two dead men, and hove them overboard.
The weather being now very mild, and almost calm, they turned to,
cleaned the boat, and resolved to make their sail larger out of the
frocks and trowsers of the two deceased men. Purnell got the captain
to lie down with the rest of the people, the boatswain and one man
excepted, who assisted him in making the sail larger, which they had
completed by six or seven o'clock in the afternoon, having made a
shroud out of the boat's painter, which served as a shifting
back-stay.--Purnell also fixed his red flannel waistcoat at the
mast-head, as a signal the most likely to be seen.
Soon after this some of them observed a sloop at a great distance,
coming, as they thought, from the land. This roused every man's
spirits; they got out their oars, at which they laboured alternately,
exerting all their remaining strength to come up with her; but night
coming on, and the sloop getting a fresh breeze of wind, they lost
sight of her, which occasioned a general consternation; however, the
appearance of the North star, which they kept on their starboard-bow,
gave them hopes that they stood in for land. This night one William
Wathing died; he was 64 years of age, and had been to sea 50 years;
quite worn out with fatigue and hunger, he earnestly prayed, to the
last moment, for a drop of water to cool his tongue. Early the next
morning Hugh Williams also died, and in the course of the day another
of the crew: entirely exhausted,--they both expired without a groan.
Early in the morning of July 13, it began to blow very fresh, and
increased so much, that they were obliged to furl their sail, and keep
the boat before the wind and sea, which drove them off soundings. In
the evening their gunner died. The weather now becoming moderate and
the wind in the S. W. quarter, they made sail, not one being able to
row or pull an oar at any rate; they ran all this night with a fine
breeze.
The next morning (July 14) two more of the crew died, and in the
evening they also lost the same number. They found they were on
soundings again, and concluded the wind had got round to the N. W.
quarter. They stood in for the land all this night, and early on July
12 two others died; the deceased were thrown overboard as soon as
their breath had departed. The weather was now thick and hazy, and
they were still certain that they were on soundings.
The cabin-boy was seldom required to do any thing, and as his
intellects, at this time, were very good, and his understanding clear,
it was the opinion of Mr. Purnell that he would survive them all, but
he prudently kept his thoughts to himself. The captain seemed likewise
tolerably well, and to have kept up his spirits. On account of the
haziness of the weather, they could not so well know how they steered
in the day time as at night; for, whenever the North star appeared,
they endeavored to keep it on their starboard bow, by which means they
were certain of making the land some time or other. In the evening two
more of the crew died, also, before sunset, one Thomas Philpot, an old
experienced seaman, and very strong; he departed rather convulsed;
having latterly lost the power of articulation, his meaning could not
be comprehended. He was a native of Belfast, Ireland, and had no
family. The survivors found it a difficult task to heave his body
overboard, as he was a very corpulent man.
About six or seven the next morning, July 16, they stood in for the
land, according to the best of their judgment, the weather still thick
and hazy. Purnell now prevailed upon the captain and boatswain of the
boat to lie down in the fore-part of the boat, to bring her more by
the head, in order to make her hold a better wind. In the evening the
cabin-boy, who lately appeared so well, breathed his last, leaving
behind, the captain, the boatswain and Mr. Purnell.
The next morning, July 17, Mr. Purnell asked his two companions if
they thought they could eat any of the boy's flesh; and having
expressed an inclination to try, and the body being quite cold, he cut
the inside of his thigh, a little above his knee, and gave a piece to
the captain and boatswain, reserving a small piece for himself; but so
weak were their stomachs that none of them could swallow a morsel of
it, the body was therefore thrown overboard.
Early in the morning of the 18th, Mr. Purnell found both of his
companions dead and cold! Thus destitute, he began to think of his own
dissolution; though feeble, his understanding was still clear, and his
spirits as good as his forlorn situation could possibly admit. By the
colour and coldness of the water, he knew he was not far from land,
and still maintained hopes of making it. The weather continued very
foggy. He lay to all this night, which was very dark, with the boat's
head to the northward.
In the morning of the 19th, it began to rain; it cleared up in the
afternoon, and the wind died away; still Mr. Purnell was convinced he
was on soundings.
On the 20th, in the afternoon, he thought he saw land, and stood in
for it; but night coming on, and it being now very dark, he lay to,
fearing he might get on some rocks and shoals.
July 21, the weather was very fine all the morning, but in the
afternoon it became thick and hazy. Mr. Purnell's spirits still
remained good, but his strength was almost exhausted; he still drank
his own water occasionally.
On the 22d he saw some barnacles on the boat's rudder, very similar to
the spawn of an oyster, which filled him with greater hopes of being
near land. He unshipped the rudder, and scraping them off with his
knife, found they were of a salt fishy substance, and eat them; he was
now so weak, the boat having a great motion, that he found it a
difficult task to ship the rudder.
At sunrise, July 23, he became so sure that he saw land, that his
spirits were considerably raised. In the middle of this day he got up,
leaned his back against the mast, and received succour from the sun,
having previously contrived to steer the boat in this position. The
next day he saw, at a very great distance, some kind of a sail, which
he judged was coming from the land, which he soon lost sight of. In
the middle of the day he got up, and received warmth from the sun as
before. He stood on all night for the land.
Very early in the morning of the 25th, after drinking his morning
draught, to his inexpressible joy he saw, while the sun was rising, a
sail, and when the sun was up, found she was a two-mast vessel. He
was, however, considerably perplexed, not knowing what to do, as she
was a great distance astern and to the leeward. In order to watch her
motions better, he tacked about. Soon after this he perceived she was
standing on her starboard tack, which had been the same he had been
standing on for many hours. He saw she approached him very fast, and
he lay to for some time, till he believed she was within two miles of
the boat, but still to leeward; therefore he thought it best to steer
larger, when he found she was a top-sail schooner, nearing him very
fast.--He continued to edge down towards her, until he had brought her
about two points under his lee-bow, having it in his power to spring
his luff, or bear away. By this time she was within half a mile, and
he saw some of her people standing forwards on her deck and waiving
for him to come under their lee-bow.
At the distance of about 200 yards they hove the schooner up in the
wind, and kept her so until Purnell got alongside, when they threw him
a rope, still keeping the schooner in the wind. They now interrogated
him very closely; by the manner the boat and oars were painted, they
imagined she belonged to a man of war, and that they had run away with
her from some of his Majesty's ships at Halifax, consequently that
they would be liable to some punishment if they took him up; they also
thought, as the captain and boatswain were lying dead in the boat,
they might expose themselves to some contagious disorder. Thus they
kept Purnell in suspense for some time. They told him they had made
the land that morning from the mast-head, and that they were running
along shore for Marblehead, to which place they belonged, and where
they expected to be the next morning. At last they told him he might
come on board; which as he said, he could not without assistance, the
captain ordered two of his men to help him.--They conducted him aft on
the quarter deck, where they left him resting on the companion.
They were now for casting the boat adrift, but Mr. Purnell told them
she was not above a month old, built at New York, and if they would
hoist her in, it would pay them well for their trouble. To this they
agreed, and having thrown the two corpses overboard, and taken out the
clothes that were left by the deceased, they hoisted her in and made
sail.