A WHALE IN SIGHT
Melville Bay, though easily navigable, was not free from ice;
ice-fields lay as far as the utmost limits of the horizon; a few
icebergs appeared here and there, but they were immovable, as if
anchored in the midst of the frozen fields. The _Forward_, with all
steam on, followed the wide passes where it was easy to work her.
The wind changed frequently from one point of the compass to another.
The variability of the wind in the Arctic Seas is a remarkable fact;
sometimes a dead calm is followed in a few minutes by a violent tempest,
as the _Forward_ found to her cost on the 23rd of June in the midst
of the immense bay. The more constant winds blow from off the ice-bank
on to the open sea, and are intensely cold. On that day the thermometer
fell several degrees; the wind veered round to the south, and violent
gusts, sweeping over the ice-fields, brought a thick snow along with
them. Hatteras immediately caused the sails that helped the screw
to be furled, but not quickly enough to prevent his little foresail
being carried away in the twinkling of an eye. Hatteras worked his
ship with the greatest composure, and did not leave the deck during
the tempest; he was obliged to fly before the weather and to turn
westward. The wind raised up enormous waves, in the midst of which
blocks of ice balanced themselves; these blocks were of all sizes
and shapes, and had been struck off the surrounding ice-fields; the
brig was tossed about like a child's plaything, and morsels of the
packs were thrown over her hull; at one instant she was lying
perpendicularly along the side of a liquid mountain; her steel prow
concentrated the light, and shone like a melting metal bar; at another
she was down an abyss, plunging her head into whirlwinds of snow,
whilst her screws, out of the water, turned in space with a sinister
noise, striking the air with their paddles. Rain mixed with the snow
and fell in torrents.
The doctor could not miss such an occasion of getting wet to the skin;
he remained on deck, a prey to that emotional admiration which a
scientific man must necessarily feel during such a spectacle. His
nearest neighbour could not have heard him speak, so he said nothing
and watched; but whilst watching he was witness to an odd phenomenon,
peculiar to hyperborean regions. The tempest was confined to a
restricted area, and only extended for about three or four miles;
the wind that passes over ice-fields loses much of its strength and
cannot carry its violence far out; the doctor perceived from time
to time, through an opening in the tempest, a calm sky and a quiet
sea beyond some ice-fields. The _Forward_ would therefore only have
to take advantage of some channels left by the ice to find a peaceful
navigation again, but she ran the risk of being thrown on to one of
the moving banks which followed the movement of the swell. However,
in a few hours Hatteras succeeded in getting his ship into a calm
sea, whilst the violence of the hurricane spent itself at a few cables'
length from the _Forward_. Melville Bay no longer presented the same
aspect; under the influence of the winds and the waves a great number
of icebergs, detached from the coast, floated northward, running
against one another in every direction. There were several hundreds
of them, but the bay is very wide, and the brig easily avoided them.
The spectacle of these floating masses was magnificent; they seemed
to be having a grand race for it on the open sea. The doctor was getting
quite excited with watching them, when the harpooner, Simpson, came
up and made him look at the changing tints in the sea; they varied
from a deep blue to olive green; long stripes stretched north and
south in such decided lines that the eye could follow each shade out
of sight. Sometimes a transparent sheet of water would follow a
perfectly opaque sheet.
"Well, Mr. Clawbonny, what do you think of that?" said Simpson.
"I am of the same opinion as the whaler Scoresby on the nature of
the different coloured waters; blue water has no animalculae, and
green water is full of them. Scoresby has made several experiments
on this subject, and I think he is right."
"Well, sir, I know something else about the colours in the sea, and
if I were a whaler I should be precious glad to see them."
"But I don't see any whales," answered the doctor.
"You won't be long before you do, though, I can tell you. A whaler
is lucky when he meets with those green stripes under this latitude."
"Why?" asked the doctor, who always liked to get information from
anybody who understood what they were talking about.
"Because whales are always found in great quantities in green water."
"What's the reason of that?"
"Because they find plenty of food in them."
"Are you sure of that?"
"I've seen it a hundred times, at least, in Baffin Sea; why shouldn't
it be the same in Melville Bay? Besides, look there, Mr. Clawbonny,"
added Simpson, leaning over the barricading.
"Why any one would think it was the wake of a ship!"
"It is an oily substance that the whale leaves behind. The animal
can't be far off!"
The atmosphere was impregnated with a strong oily odour, and the
doctor attentively watched the surface of the water. The prediction
of the harpooner was soon accomplished. Foker called out from the
masthead--
"A whale alee!"
All looks turned to the direction indicated. A small spout was
perceived coming up out of the sea about a mile from the brig.
"There she spouts!" cried Simpson, who knew what that meant.
"She has disappeared!" answered the doctor.
"Oh, we could find her again easily enough if necessary!" said Simpson,
with an accent of regret. To his great astonishment, and although
no one dared ask for it, Hatteras gave orders to man the whaler.
Johnson went aft to the stern, while Simpson, harpoon in hand, stood
in the bow. They could not prevent the doctor joining the expedition.
The sea was pretty calm. The whaler soon got off, and in ten minutes
was a mile from the brig. The whale had taken in another provision
of air, and had plunged again; but she soon returned to the surface
and spouted out that mixture of gas and mucus that escapes from her
air-holes.
"There! There!" said Simpson, pointing to a spot about eight hundred
yards from the boat. It was soon alongside the animal, and as they
had seen her from the brig too, she came nearer, keeping little steam
on. The enormous cetacean disappeared and reappeared as the waves
rose and fell, showing its black back like a rock in open sea. Whales
do not swim quickly unless they are pursued, and this one only rocked
itself in the waves. The boat silently approached along the green
water; its opacity prevented the animal seeing the enemy. It is always
an agitating spectacle when a fragile boat attacks one of these
monsters; this one was about 130 feet long, and it is not rare, between
the 72nd and the 80th degree, to meet with whales more than 180 feet
long. Ancient writers have described animals more than 700 feet long,
but they drew upon their imagination for their facts. The boat soon
neared the whale; on a sign from Simpson the men rested on their oars,
and brandishing his harpoon, the experienced sailor threw it with
all his strength; it went deep into the thick covering of fat. The
wounded whale struck the sea with its tail and plunged. The four oars
were immediately raised perpendicularly; the cord fastened to the
harpoon, and attached to the bow, rolled rapidly out and dragged the
boat along, steered cleverly by Johnson.
The whale got away from the brig and made for the moving icebergs;
she kept on for more than half-an-hour; they were obliged to wet the
cord fastened to the harpoon to prevent it catching fire by rubbing
against the boat. When the whale seemed to be going along a little
more slowly, the cord was pulled in little by little and rolled up;
the whale soon reappeared on the surface of the sea, which she beat
with her formidable tail: veritable waterspouts fell in a violent
rain on to the boat. It was getting nearer. Simpson had seized a long
lance, and was preparing to give close battle to the animal, when
all at once the whale glided into a pass between two mountainous
icebergs. The pursuit then became really dangerous.
"The devil!" said Johnson.
"Go ahead," cried Simpson; "we've got her!"
"But we can't follow her into the icebergs!" said Johnson, steering
steadily.
"Yes we can!" cried Simpson.
"No, no!" cried some of the sailors.
"Yes, yes!" said others.
During the discussion the whale had got between two floating mountains
which the swell was bringing close together. The boat was being
dragged into this dangerous part when Johnson rushed to the fore,
an axe in his hand, and cut the cord. He was just in time; the two
mountains came together with a tremendous crash, crushing the
unfortunate animal.
"The whale's lost!" cried Simpson.
"But we are saved!" answered Johnson.
"Well," said the doctor, who had not moved, "that was worth seeing!"
The crushing force of these ice-mountains is enormous. The whale was
victim to an accident that often happens in these seas. Scoresby
relates that in the course of a single summer thirty whales perished
in the same way in Baffin's Sea; he saw a three-master flattened in
a minute between two immense walls of ice. Other vessels were split
through, as if with a lance, by pointed icicles a hundred feet long,
meeting through the planks. A few minutes afterwards the boat hailed
the brig, and was soon in its accustomed place on deck.
"It is a lesson for those who are imprudent enough to adventure into
the channels amongst the ice!" said Shandon in a loud voice.