SETTLING THE VOYAGE
On the following morning, my attention was called to an article in
the local newspaper declaring the voyage of the _Seabird_ to be the
most remarkable, if not the most profitable, in the history of
whaling. The find of ambergris was pronounced to be without a
parallel, and the announcement was made that gold watches were
offered as prizes—one to the man who first sighted the largest
bowhead that was captured, and the other to the man who first saw
the largest sperm whale which was also taken. The article proceeded:
The keenness of sight of the Gay Head Indians is
proverbial, and to a foremast hand of that colony was
awarded the prize for the largest bowhead captured. It
is with great pleasure that we announce that one of our
New Bedford boys was a successful competitor. Homer
Bleechly, who shipped on the Seabird as a foremast hand,
when hardly more than a boy, displayed the most
remarkable powers of vision, actually raising more
whales than any other man on the ship. One day when in
the crow’s nest with the Gay Header beside him, he
surpassed that vigilant individual in discovering the
low bushy spout of a sperm whale at a point on the
horizon where his companion could detect nothing but the
mere movement of the waves. The whale thus sighted
proved to be a monster, and as fierce as he was
physically great. He smashed two boats and severely
injured two seamen. The oil he yielded stowed down just
one hundred and forty-one barrels.
This statement, so far from the truth, astounded me. I learned that
the information was furnished the newspaper by one of my
over-zealous friends. It had the effect of advertising my success,
which it will be remembered was due to a mere accident, and hence
deepened the interest in the watches.
My father told me that, in settling the voyage, he did not advise
the employment of a lawyer. He remarked, “You will have to pay a
lawyer at least twenty-five dollars, and it’s money thrown away.
Sailors now are too smart for the lawyers. This is the way they do.
Where two men have the same lay and the same outfit and have had the
same amount out of the slop chest, during the voyage, they agree
that one of them shall have a lawyer. So this man goes in with his
lawyer and his voyage is settled and he is paid off; and he pays his
lawyer twenty-five dollars. Then the second man goes in all alone,
and his voyage is settled and he is paid off. Then these two men get
together and compare notes, and, if they find that the settlement is
fair, one of them being twenty-five dollars out of pocket, in go the
rest of the crew in a bunch, to settle, and the twenty-five dollars
is borne by the whole crew. You don’t want a lawyer. However, the
only thing you want to look out for is the ambergris. It’s rarely
they find it, but some druggist may know what the last lot brought.”
I followed the suggestion, and the druggist I visited said, “The
last lot came in about fifteen years ago. There were thirty pounds,
all in good condition, and it was sold in Boston for seven thousand
dollars. I believe the substance is worth just as much now as it was
then.”
It was about eleven o’clock when I went with my father to the
owner’s office. Most of the crew were gathered outside on the wharf.
When we entered, the only people present were the Quaker, the
bookkeeper, one of the foremast hands and a lawyer.
“The only matter left,” said the lawyer, “is the ambergris. I
understand that it is more valuable than diamonds.”
The Quaker rejoined, “I prefer to have thee talk dollars and cents.
I belong to the Society of Friends, and know nothing of the value of
precious stones, jewels and so forth. Friends have no use for such
things.”
“Well, the lump is over three hundred pounds, and I’ll settle at the
rate of a thousand dollars a pound—Three Hundred Thousand Dollars
for the whole thing.”
“Not in this office,” said the Quaker quietly.
“Well, on what basis will you settle?”
“I will settle on the basis of a fair valuation and no other.”
Then the lawyer launched out with a great flow of words, accompanied
by violent gestures, to show what he considered was a just
valuation, concluding, “What do you think of that?”
“I think, my friend, that thee indulges in too much unprofitable
language,” was the reply.
“Well, then let’s hear your views,” said the lawyer.
The Quaker expressed himself as follows, and to this day I remember
how clearly he presented his views and how free he was from
excitement.
“We have had no trouble in agreeing on the value of the oil and bone
as a basis of settlement and now the only difference relates to this
lump of ambergris weighing three hundred pounds. It has been
examined and found to be in very fair condition. The highest price
it is likely to bring is not three hundred thousand but seventy
thousand dollars. I naturally assume some risk as to quality and
price. I will settle on the basis of sixty-five thousand dollars,
and, if that isn’t satisfactory, thee may bring suit or do anything
else thee pleases.”
The lawyer grumbled a little, muttered something to his client,
backed down entirely, watched with keen eyes the payment of the
amount due his companion and accompanied him to the door as if he
were a brother.
The Quaker smiled and observed to my father, “I will settle with
this young man after the second sailor has been dealt with.”
Hardly were the words uttered, when that individual appeared. And it
was no other than Ohoo. Negotiations were soon concluded and Ohoo
made his mark, took his money and then looked beseechingly at my
father, who notified the merchant that he was to see to it that
Ohoo’s money was safely guarded.
“I approve of thy purpose,” the Quaker responded.
Ohoo departed, and almost immediately returned, accompanied by the
rest of the crew. After they had been dealt with, the settlement
with my father was soon over. The ruling prices as to oil and bone
were accepted, and sixty-five thousand dollars for the ambergris was
agreed to.
“This is a remarkable case,” said the Quaker, as he handed my father
a little over eight hundred dollars. “Thy son has had nothing from
the slop chest, and he receives the largest amount I have ever paid
a sailor for a single voyage since I have been in the business.”
The Quaker took from a drawer a couple of watches, and held them up
before his silent and interested audience. He observed, “I have now
a very pleasant duty to perform. It is to bestow a gold watch upon
our friend from Gay Head, who sighted the largest bowhead captured,
and another upon this young man, who was the first to announce the
largest sperm whale taken.”
The Gay Header showed a row of beautiful teeth as he took the watch;
and he caused much laughter when he put it up to his ear, evidently
to find out whether it was going.
As I stepped forward, I did not extend my hand, but said, “I don’t
know as I ought to take the watch, sir. My discovery of the whale
wasn’t due to sharp eyes, but to luck. The big fellow had sounded at
a place far off from us and happened to come up pretty near the
ship. I happened to be the first one to see him.”
“Nevertheless, the watch belongs to thee.”
Then addressing the crew, he inquired, “Isn’t that so, my friends?”
There was a loud “Yes.”
My gratitude was twofold—to the Quaker merchant for his generosity,
and to my companions, most of whom I was never to see again, for
their kind approval.
My money was later disposed of to the entire satisfaction of my
parents, and now for the closing incident—the watch. My father went
to his work, and I went home. The watch came out of my pocket every
time I passed any one, and, as I passed a good many people, it came
out a good many times. When I reached home, my mother handled it as
tenderly as if it had been a baby, and loudly praised my Quaker
benefactor. When evening came the visitors exceeded those of the
night before. Every one wanted to handle the watch, and I was afraid
that they might wear it out before they got through with it. Again I
was asked all kinds of questions about the voyage, and particularly
about the whale which brought me such good fortune. This was rather
a delicate subject. But I was fair enough to say that the case was
not a very meritorious one. That night I slept with the watch under
my pillow.
The next morning I walked up Union Street just as the merchants and
other business men were going to their offices and places of
business. In a jeweler’s window was a standard clock, and I noticed
more than one passer-by stop and take out his watch and compare the
time. This gave me an opportunity to display my timepiece. So I took
it out with a great deal of pride, and to my surprise and grief it
was fifteen minutes slower than the clock. My head was hot, my eyes
were misty and my heart beat violently. I put the watch to my ear,
and lo! it had stopped. I walked up the street in a dazed condition,
turned into a side street and sat down on a doorstep. I was at a
loss what to do, but at last, having pulled myself together, I
returned to the jeweler’s and, entering, handed him the watch and
asked what the matter with it was. He opened it with an important
air and examined it carefully and oh! so slowly.
His face was lighted by a faint smile as he said, “It will take ten
days to repair it, and it will cost you fifteen dollars.”
An outlay of fifteen dollars on a watch that was not fit for an
ashheap! I stammered some excuse and took my departure. All my
faculties were now awake, and the course of procedure was plain. I
made haste to the Quaker’s office. I stood out on the wharf and,
looking through the window, saw him, apparently as placid as ever,
at work at his desk. I had determined to give him a perfect blast,
and, while I was trying to summon the language I proposed to use,
some one spoke to me. It was my old friend, the shipkeeper. He saw
that I was disturbed and asked the cause. I told him my story and
finished by declaring that I was going into the office and upbraid
the Quaker for his treatment of me.
“I wouldn’t do that,” said my companion, “until I had been to
another jeweler. There are two things a man can buy and never know
what he’s buying—one’s a horse and the other is a watch. Another
jeweler may tell you a different story. Suppose you go to one.”
This advice had an excellent effect, and I followed it. I sought an
old watchmaker and silversmith who had a long established record for
skill and honesty. There was something fatherly about him, and his
face always wore a pleasant expression. His examination was slow and
thorough. When completed, a smile spread over his countenance, as he
said:
“That’s a fine watch, and there is nothing the matter with it. The
trouble is you forgot to wind it last night.”