THE COAST OF JAPAN AND THE CAROLINES
One would think from the name “Coast of Japan” that whalers cruised
off the land. In truth they cruised generally some distance from it,
for, as has been said, sperm whales do not like soundings and are
found in deep water. Fortunately we did not experience a typhoon or
any violent storm. We saw a few vessels that looked like junks, but
they did not come near enough for us to hail them. Of whalers we saw
not a few, and we gammed with several of them. During the months we
were there we took three hundred and fifty barrels of sperm oil and
were about to start for the Caroline Islands, as Kreelman had
predicted, when I had the most eventful experience of my life. As I
recall it after all these years, I shudder and renew my gratitude
for deliverance.
The day before we were to sail for the Carolines, whales were
announced in the afternoon, and Silva’s and Lakeum’s boats were
lowered. The wind was right; so the masts were stepped and the sails
set. For heavy whaleboats, built for service and not for speed, we
made very good time. Every one was happy, and I fancy that the men
in both boats contemplated a good day’s work with a couple of
whales, at least, fast to the ship.
Silva’s boat had the advantage, and within an hour from the time of
leaving the ship was fast to a whale. The other whales vanished, so
we took in sail and awaited developments. In the meantime the wind
had shifted, but we could see the ship in the distance, and she was
of course beating towards us. It is difficult to tell what a whale
will do under water, and he doesn’t propose to let anybody know.
When he disappears you may think that he will reappear at some point
in the distance and then, of a sudden, he will emerge not far from
the place where he sounded. Not a whale was now to be seen; but we
were sure that one at least would soon be in evidence, and that was
the one that had been struck by the harpooner of Silva’s boat. But
we lost interest in that leviathan, for suddenly a great sperm whale
rose not more than a hundred feet from our craft. We were ordered to
take the paddles, and in less than a minute the bow just touched the
big fellow’s body. With his left leg in the clumsy cleat and his
stalwart figure strongly outlined against the western sky, where the
sun was now hardly visible, our boat-steerer threw both harpoons
with splendid effect. We were quick to respond to Lakeum’s order,
but the flukes were very inactive and there were hardly any suds to
get out of; and the whale showed no inclination to sound.
“I’ve been in a boat for thirty years,” said one of our men, “and I
never see a whale like that before. I believe he’s sick, and I
shouldn’t be surprised if he had five hundred pounds of ambergris in
him worth a good deal more than a hundred thousand dollars.”
We had pretty quick proof of the fact that the whale was not sick,
and we never had the opportunity to learn whether or not he was rich
in ambergris. The monster deliberately turned belly up and came for
us.
Lakeum yelled, “Up with your oar, Bleechly.” That meant, of course,
a signal to the other boat for help. The whale took our boat in his
teeth, and all of us, with one exception, jumped into the water. The
exception was a quiet, inoffensive man, and an excellent sailor whom
we all liked, and who had been friends with every one during the
voyage. The whale seized him so that the head and arms alone were to
be seen. The poor man uttered a fearful shriek, and there came to
his face an expression of anguish and despair. Then he disappeared
and the whale proceeded to chew our boat into bits. Five men
struggling in the water, and an angry whale likely to devour them at
any moment!
The whale was indifferent to the others. He directed his attention
to me. I was a good swimmer and my salvation depended on my
successfully eluding him, and on my keeping afloat until help
arrived. The monster turned over, closed his jaws and came feeling
around slowly and carefully. He passed close to me, and, afraid of
his flukes, I grasped the warp attached to the harpoons in his body
and was towed a short distance. The moment he slacked speed, I dove
under, so as to clear the flukes and come up astern of them. Now I
felt rather secure; but strange to say he turned and half breached
as he came for me. If he had struck me a full blow, I should have
been crushed to pieces. I think the end of his jaw may have just
touched my body. At any rate, down I went, and, when I came up, he
had turned so that I was able to get hold of the warp again. Now he
seemed to be puzzled.
My four companions, all of whom appeared to be good swimmers, were
struggling in the water, but he paid no attention to them. He
pounded the sea with his flukes and then turned over again. I had to
release my grasp and as his great body rolled against me, I was half
stunned and half drowned, and consciousness left me. When I came to,
it was dark. I felt very sore on the side where the whale had rolled
against me, and I was extremely weak.
I muttered, “Where am I? Where am I? Am I dead or alive?”
Assurance came with the voice of Lakeum. “You are all right,
Bleechly. Let me tell you the whole story. When the whale turned
over, as you were clinging to the warp, he proceeded to bite up what
little pieces of the boat there were left. When you put the oar on
end as a signal, Silva ordered his warp cut and gave up his whale in
order to save us, and he arrived just in the knick of time. You were
taken aboard first, of course, and made as comfortable as possible;
then the rest of us were rescued.”
“What became of the whale?” I broke in.
“Oh, he made off. It was then growing dark and the ship was not to
be seen, but she’ll pick us up in the morning.”
I was in considerable pain, and the wet clothes increased my
discomfort. It was pretty difficult to do much for a sick man in a
whaleboat with eleven men in it, but they did for me all they could,
and it is remarkable how kind and tender, at such times, rough and
unskilled men can be. The long, dreary night at last ended and the
sun rose beautifully, but in my condition it made no impression upon
me. Not far away was a curious-looking vessel which Lakeum said was
a junk, and it seemed to be bearing down on us. I heard them say
that our vessel’s top-hamper could just be seen. The wind was now
favorable, water was thrown on the sail, and the men took to the
oars as well. With this double method of propelling the boat it made
pretty good time. I was propped up in a little space at the stern,
just where I was clear of the oarsmen, and where I was afforded
unrestricted vision.
The junk seemed to be gaining on us. Then it suddenly occurred to me
why the men were at the oars and why water was thrown on the sail.
Strange to say this apprehended peril didn’t disturb me. The
interest inspired largely relieved me of suffering. The stranger
kept gaining on us and soon I could see men on her deck. Now
I turned a little, although the effort was somewhat painful,
and noticed that the _Seabird_ was not so very far off, as her
upper rigging was visible. Lakeum encouraged the men in a low
tone, and the situation had the aspect of a race. The junk was a
strange-looking object with its lugsails, the first I had ever seen,
and its low prow. But while she was gaining on us we were making
good time, and, of course, our own ship was approaching, though she
was beating to windward. There is much mystery at sea about
currents, but there is more mystery about wind. Sometimes three
vessels may be seen, each sailing with a different wind. Suddenly
the junk changed her course; the wind was no longer friendly. In
less than a quarter of an hour we were alongside the _Seabird_, and,
while I was able to walk, I was not fit for duty; so I was allowed
to go to my bunk in the dismal forecastle.
For three days I could not respond to duty and, while I did not
receive the modern treatment which one receives from a trained
nurse, the carpenter drew supplies from the medicine chest, applied
lotions and wound bandages, if not always with a trained hand, yet
with good intent, fortified by words of sympathy and cheer. My
associates, rough seafaring men, were kind and moved quietly about
in our little enclosure, as if to relieve my suffering and
contribute to my comfort. Ohoo was particularly thoughtful, asking,
in his broken English, “What me do you? Me willin’ help all time.”
And the cook, my old friend, provided from his meager material
little dishes that were out of the usual. But constantly there was
presented the picture of our old companion in the whale’s jaw—he of
whom we all had thought so well, and with whom we had never had a
difference—and my heart was filled with gratitude for my
preservation and deliverance.
It was a pleasure to get back to work and to feel that we were on
our way to the Carolines. It was now March, 1861, and we were due at
our destination in May. Nothing eventful occurred during the
passage; a few whales were seen and boats were lowered, but in each
case the chase was abandoned. We were very happy when we caught the
first glimpse of land, for we knew that the stay was to be a pretty
long one. While there was much work to be done in overhauling the
ship and taking aboard supplies, we were told that there would be a
good deal of liberty, as the spot we were to visit was remote from
any settlement, and the people with whom we were to deal were
natives.
We dropped anchor in a small bay and there, right before us, was the
ship _Sunrise_ of New Bedford, stripped of boats, sails and so
forth, and hove down upon her side, so that the keel was exposed. We
soon learned that the ship had sprung a leak, and, as the nearest
civilized port was many miles away, the ship had been beached and,
under the direction of the carpenter, the necessary repairs had been
made.
I remember what Kreelman said, “Fancy Chest, there’s nothin’ like
whalemen. Merchantmen couldn’t do that. Whalemen are jacks at all
trades. A whaleship’s a little world, and there’s nothin’ that
whalemen can’t do.” And now, after many long years of rather varied
experience, I recall Kreelman’s words, and give them my hearty
approval.
The first thing to do was to get temporary supplies. So a boat was
sent ashore with a little trade, and when it returned it brought
vegetables, fruit, fowl and pigs enough to last us for a fortnight
or more.
The next day the ship was hauled in near shore and secured with
chain cables. By orders of the captain, Lakeum began the overhauling
and putting in order. The yards were sent down and the entire
rigging was examined and necessary renewals were made. All the
blocks were put in order. The masts were stayed, standing rigging
was set up, yards were crossed, running rigging was rove, sails were
bent and furled snug, and all the yards squared. All this took, of
course, a number of days. After that, general shore leave was
announced. The _Sunrise_ was now repaired, and about to be hauled
out to an anchorage, where she could be refitted with spars,
rigging, sails and so forth and refurnished with casks, provisions,
movables and the like. Here was work done in these two cases which
would have cost the owners a great deal of money had the vessels put
into port.
All of us went ashore, and all hands of the _Sunrise_ were given
liberty at the same time. If the expression may be used, it was a
case of gamming on shore. The captains and officers got together,
and the crews went off by themselves. The island was one of the
smallest of the group. The natives were hospitable and invited us
into their little huts, where they set before us fruit, of which
there was a great variety and abundance, and their curiously cooked
food. The day was faultless and the whole experience most
delightful. The men of the two vessels affiliated beautifully. There
was no friction. In the late afternoon we all went in swimming, and
a luxury it was to men whose brief opportunity of obtaining a bath
on shipboard was afforded by a rainfall, and generally a very poor
opportunity, too. Just before separating, all gathered together, and
then for the first time the conversation turned to our respective
catches. The amount of our oil compared very favorably with that of
the _Sunrise_, but our new-made friends were inclined to be boastful
and assertive. One of our men said very quietly:
“Oil is a good thing, but, when you have something on board worth
more than a thousand barrels of sperm, that’s a little better
thing.”
“You ain’t discovered no diamond mine in the ocean, have ye?” asked
a _Sunrise_ man. His companions roared.
“No,” replied our spokesman; “we didn’t discover no diamond mine. We
opened up a gold mine.”
“What d’ye open it up with—a pickaxe?” Another loud laugh.
“No, with a cutting spade; and the man on our ship who has the
largest lay is goin’ to see more money than he ever see before, when
his voyage is settled. A one-hundred-and-eightieth lay in seventy
thousand dollars worth of ambergris ain’t to be sneezed at.”
As I recall the experience of that day I now regret that any
allusion was made to the ambergris. Its introduction into the
conversation seemed to disturb the pleasant relations, and the
leave-takings were cold and formal.
Trade negotiations were renewed, and abundant supplies were taken on
board. We now learned that we were to proceed to the Okhotsk Sea.
Some bowheads remained in these waters during the summer, while many
passed out to seek the Arctic Ocean. It was rumored that the captain
had had such good luck the first season in the Arctic that he
believed it policy to change to another whaling ground. There may
have been a bit of superstition in this, but the change proved a
good one. Word was passed round that we were going to stand well to
the westward and go to the right of the Hawaiian Islands, and this
because the captain hoped to sight some whaler bound home, and
intrust a letter to her. Day followed day and only one small whale
was taken. Finally a speck was seen at the horizon in line of the
course we were taking. As we drew nearer the boats could be seen at
the davits, so we knew she was a whaler. Both vessels hove to, one
of our boats was lowered, and the captain went in her to visit the
stranger. On his return I was near the gangway and heard him say,
“The _Hepworth_ of New Bedford, bound home.”
“Did you tell them about the ambergris?” asked Lakeum.
“No, that’s such a tender subject that I thought I’d spare them. But
I learned something that was a great surprise. The captain said that
they told him, not long ago, in Honolulu, that last November a man
named Abraham Lincoln was elected President of the United States.”
“Did you ask the captain who Lincoln was?”
“Yes, but he said he didn’t know.”