A Momentous Passage
Thenceforward the speed with which the wounded man got better was
marvellous except to those who knew how the body of man under primitive
conditions and perfectly healthy can recover from what in civilization
must be fatal injuries. I have alluded to this in one of the earliest
chapters in dealing with the accident to Philip, C. B.’s father,
although his injuries were far less dangerous than those that his son
had just sustained. But in four days after the ship had left Honolulu,
C. B. was able to come on deck without assistance, and to take short
walks up and down the deck until pain within, along the track of the
newly-healed wound, warned him to rest.
As the captain had hoped, the ship was now the abode of peace, as far
as could be seen, and there was perfect harmony between all hands,
even Mr. Winsloe having regained his original placidity of temper. All
that now seemed in doubt was the capacity of the new harponeers, who,
however, as far as their ship work went, shaped thoroughly well. So day
after day slipped away and the vessel drew gradually near the turbulent
Japan grounds without as yet a single spout having been seen.
The captain was just beginning to get fretty, for his average was
falling faster than he liked, when without intimating that such was his
intention C. B. turned up one morning in the gravy-eye watch and told
Merritt that he had come to stay. He was a bit trembly and weak still,
but felt no pain whatever from his wounds, which had perfectly healed,
and he therefore argued that he would be much better at work than
lolling about. Merritt fully agreed and at first break of dawn C. B.
climbed aloft into the main crow’s-nest, Merritt, whose lookout it was
with him, staying behind to finish a new lance-cap he had been making.
C. B. was somewhat surprised to find how the climb made him pant,
forgetting the recent strain upon his bodily resources, but got into
the rings and, leaning over, began to feast his eyes upon the glory and
majesty of the sunrise, nowhere more impressive than when seen from
such a vantage point as this.
He fell into a reverie while gazing, thinking of the splendours of the
New Jerusalem, when he was rudely aroused by the mellow call of Merritt
far below him “Blo-o-o-o-w.” He gazed wildly around endeavouring to see
where the sighted whale could be, but it was not until looking down to
see if possible in which direction Merritt was looking that he saw to
his intense chagrin that there were four whales almost alongside the
ship. Then in accordance with custom he added his call to Merritt’s,
and the two at the fore joined in the long minor cry.
Of course the captain was immediately on deck, and at his sharp
incisive orders the whole of the ship’s company flew into a state of
violent activity. Then suddenly his voice was heard pealing upward,
“Way down from aloft all but Christmas! You stop there and look after
the signallin’; I’m goin’ t’ take the boat.” It was a bitter pill for
C. B. to swallow in spite of his certainty that the skipper was acting
in the kindest and most thoughtful way. But he was so keen upon his
work and so anxious to show how completely fit he was that for a little
while he felt quite unhappy. Then as the boats pushed off and set sail
he recovered himself and remembered how important were the duties he
had to perform.
For he was now in sole charge of the ship, being entrusted with the
task of keeping her to windward of the school with the aid of the
shipkeepers, that is the carpenter and cooper, cook and steward and
four hands. There are also many well understood signals to be made by
manipulating the upper sails, signals which are eagerly watched by
those in charge of boats whose sphere of vision is very limited as
compared with that of a man elevated so far above the sea as a ship’s
topgallant mast-head. These signals tell of the whale’s sounding or
reappearance, of the direction in which he heads, in fact, all his
or their movements, and of course the watcher is enabled to follow
the progress of the work and regulate movements of his ship thereby.
Consequently it was no sinecure post that C. B. had been appointed
to, but rather one that would test to the full his newly gained
acquaintance with the art of ship handling.
As he stood there watching the departure of the four boats, which
from his lofty position looked like tiny specks of white dotting the
glittering surface of the sea, he could not help passing mentally in
review the events of the past few months. He had recently had many
opportunities for introspection and reverie, but somehow all his
musings had been mixed up, unmethodical and leading nowhere. Now,
however, realizing as he did the novelty of his position, he was led
to trace backward step by step the way by which he had been brought
thither, and the recollections affected him deeply. A strange sense of
exultation seized him, delight in that he had been so signally favoured
of God in all his undertakings, gratitude that he had been kept from
falling, but never once did he feel puffed up with the false idea that
it was his strength of character, his goodness that had kept him.
That of course was owing to the simple, sensible, Christian training
which he had received, drawn direct from the fount of Infinite wisdom.
That teaching had always been valued by him, but never more than now
when he could see whither its results had led him. And then he thought
of the miserable men that had assailed him, had hated him without a
cause, and remembering how barren their lives must have been of the
advantages he had enjoyed, his heart swelled with a great pity for them.
All this time he watched the boats receding, spreading out as they
went, and deeming it time to get a little nearer to them gave the order
to keep her away for a little as with the stiff breeze blowing the ship
could sail faster than the boats. He watched the whales settle, gave
the signal that caused the boats to heave to--hove his own ship to, and
waited intently watching until they rose again to his great joy quite
close to the boats. It was truly wonderful to watch from that height
the stern conflict going on, where the combatants were apparently
reduced in size to pigmies and specks. So I should imagine would a
battle between two armies look from a balloon or a great hunting scene
with lions and tigers as the quarry, except that here there was
nothing to obstruct the view. Presently he saw all four boats starting
off in different directions without sails or the use of oars, and he
knew that each one had gotten fast to a whale. Now he began to pray for
guidance as to what he should do in the event of the whales running
like that for long, since the simple rule of keeping to windward would
hardly suffice. Then he noticed that one of the boats was being towed
by its whale directly towards the ship at such a speed that the monster
was raising a great bow wave almost like that ahead of one of our bluff
bowed tramps going full speed.
But also to his amazement and almost consternation he noticed that the
fast whale was accompanied by two loose whales, one on either side, who
were evidently determined to keep up with him, but whether with the
notion of helping him or not it was impossible to tell. C. B. had heard
of such things, and had put them aside as we often do the matters we do
not know whether to believe or not, but which certainly appear to us
incredible. It does not do, however, to be too sceptical with regard to
what is done or attempted by whales, because we may thereby lose some
hints which may be most useful to us in an emergency.
Now he saw that the swiftly coming craft was his boat, and that the
skipper was in the bow. Nearer, nearer, nearer she came, and C. B.’s
pulses quickened as he noted they were heading straight for his
broadside. “Hard a starboard,” he cried, “let her come right up. Let go
starboard main and cro’jack braces, haul all after yards round.” And as
the ship swung up into the wind, bringing the advancing boat head on to
her, C. B. saw Merritt fling the turns off the loggerhead, letting the
boat fly by only a foot or two clear of the stem. And the ship slowly
filled round to the starboard tack, C. B. filling the fore yards as
she did so. If any sailor objects that he never heard of tacking ship
this way, let me tell him that many acts of seamanship are performed or
were performed in whalers that not only were never heard of, but would
have been impossible anywhere else, just as it would be impossible for
many of our long lean four-posters to back and fill up a river like a
Geordie brig on a good flood.
Keeping his eager eyes upon the scene below him, C. B. noted that rapid
as the whale’s progress had been on the surface he was now moving
very sluggishly downwards and so he turned his attention to the other
boats which he found were scattered widely, but all three evidently
having some trouble with their whales. He became very anxious as to his
position and was about to keep away again when he saw that the whale
his skipper was fast to was coming up at a great rate. And when he
reached the surface he was still accompanied by the other two whales,
who seemed determined to put every obstacle in the way of his being
killed that they could. Both Captain Taber and Mr. Merritt were fully
alive to the danger of injuring a “loose” whale while fast to another
one, but something had to be done, so Captain Taber fired a bomb lance
at one of the loose whales which was between him and the whale he
was fast to. C. B. heard the crack of the shot and the boom of the
exploding bomb, and then saw, just as if a submarine mine had gone
off, a tremendous upheaval in the water where it was evident that the
intruder had got his mortal wound, and had gone immediately into his
death flurry.
There was no question as to the danger of the situation, danger, too,
which no amount of energy or skill could avert. The three huge beasts,
apparently maddened by pain and fright, and mixed up with the line,
which was a mass of entanglement, fairly surrounded the boat. Even if
she had not been threatened with being smashed every moment by the
writhings and plungings of the mighty creatures, it was obvious that
she was only kept afloat by incessant baling, owing to the immense
amount of water which was hurled over her in the struggle.
The apparently inevitable end came soon after C. B. had shouted from
his perch an order to man the spare boat and keep her in instant
readiness for lowering. One of the whales rose by the side of the
hemmed-in boat with widely extended jaws, fell over upon it sideways,
at the same time clashing those awful jaws together. Boatmen and whales
disappeared for a moment in a wallow of crimson flecked foam. C. B.
waited no longer. Snatching at a backstay, he glided to the deck,
shouted as soon as his feet touched the rail--
“Take hold, Chips, an’ keep as near me as you can.”
Into the boat and with a whirr of the falls they were off, not a moment
too soon. Two whales were dead and a third was still moving about as if
unable to leave the spot; but clinging to fragments of the destroyed
boat were the crew, all hurt and hurt badly, and the skipper, sustained
by Merritt, looked almost as if he had fought his last fight.
Disregarding entirely the urgency of securing the whales, all the
men were saved and brought on board with utmost speed. Then it was
found that three of them were absolutely helpless as far as work was
concerned, while the skipper needed instant attention if his life was
to be saved. Merritt, though sorely bruised and fatigued, took upon
himself this duty, and with C. B. to help him they made an examination
of the captain’s body. They found that his left arm was broken in four
places, most of the flesh was torn and lacerated on that side of his
body, his left thigh was out and his left foot crushed. Yet so great
was the man’s vitality, and also because there had been but little loss
of blood, that the good fellow was really not so nearly gone as might
have been expected.
“Now, boy,” said Merritt, “you got your hands fuller’n ever you had
’em. Git on deck an’ sen’ me the cook and steward, an’ tell ’em t’
bring a handy billy with ’em. I must get that thigh in fust off.
Then you gotter get hold o’ the’ whales. Get ’em alongside; they’s
two hundred barrel on ’em, I do believe, and then dig out fer the
other fellows. They’ll be all right, I guess, fer I’ve noticed that
things like these scarcely ever gets too bad for a _man_ to handle.
Now _git_.” And C. B. got, climbed to his lofty perch again, finding
however that when he reached there he had a strange giddiness come over
him for a few moments. He sent up a swift prayer for strength under his
heavy burden, remembering how recent had been his great weakness.
Then he sprang up like a giant, and shouted the necessary orders to
bring the ship down on the whales, which were lying almost side by
side. He did not want to lower a boat, so conned the ship with utmost
care, and when he headed straight for them he had the yards backed to
deaden her way a little. Then taking an iron prepared with an ordinary
towline attached, he darted it as she came near enough, and hauled one
whale alongside at the same time as one of the shipkeepers performed a
similar feat on the whale which lay at the opposite side of the ship.
Technicalities about any business are bound to become tiresome, no
matter how interesting the business may be in itself, or I would
explain the enormous amount of labour and skill expended upon getting
these two whales properly secured by a length of chain round the small
of their bodies and a hawser attached to that. A small cut would
explain it better than a page of letterpress. All hands worked nobly
(ah, how nobly do the rank and file often work for honourable reasons,
knowing that no recognition ever comes their way), and at last the two
vast bodies were well secured astern, and C. B. had now to solve the
problem of getting his ship to where the other boats were waiting for
him, with those two enormous masses hanging to his stern.
Somewhat wearily he mounted to the crow’s-nest again, only remembering
as he did so that in the excitement of his manifold duties he had
forgotten to eat, and it was now nearly noon. So he hailed the deck and
ordered all hands to snatch what bites they could, but be ready to trim
sails as needed. He received the usual answer, and went on with his
scrutiny of the vast blazing expanse spread out before him. At last to
his great relief he located the three boats, each certainly fast to a
whale, and as far as he could judge with the whales dead. Fortunately,
I had almost said providentially, but remembered C. B.’s persistent
efforts to keep his ship to windward, the boats were all well to
loo’ard, which simplified his task considerably.
But oh! the weary, weary wait of it all. A whaleship’s best gait is
slow, with two whales towing it is hardly perceptible, and presently
with a delightful start, as if he had made an original discovery, C. B.
decided that he might relieve himself of his duty without any harm or
hindrance, having set the course. So he came down and was astonished to
find how the food set before him revived him and made him take quite a
roseate view of difficulties which a few minutes before seemed almost
unsurmountable.
When he had been thus refreshed he gave orders for all cutting gear to
be got ready, knowing that there would be plenty of time and that the
hands were all rested. Then he went below, where he found his skipper
bandaged and swathed until he looked like a mummy sleeping soundly with
only a light flush on his face, and Merritt, a half emptied plate of
food by his side, sitting almost bolt upright, fast asleep, but looking
as ghastly as a dead man. But then with people of that complexion you
never can tell. They are not to be judged by ordinary rules at all.
Feeling that in both cases the men were better without interference on
his part he went on deck again, and seeing the carpenter and cooper
standing by, he went up to them and said--
“The captain and Mr. Merritt are both doing well, they’re fast asleep.
Have you had your dinner?” They both nodded and he then went on, “I’ll
look after the ship now if you’d both like a little rest, for I reckon
it’ll be another hour before we are up to the first boat, and it will
be hard enough for us all then.”
The two old tradesmen looked at him and then at each other, finally
muttering--
“I guess we’ll keep you company. What you can do we can, and anyhow you
ain’t half a bad chap.” That was all, but it meant a good deal.
Now of the subsequent proceedings in picking up the three whales I
need not write, except to say that as soon as Mr. Winsloe got on board
C. B. handed the control of the ship over to him with a full report of
what had happened since he had left the skipper’s company. The story
of the next week is just one of savage unremitting toil, only to be
compared to the way in which men work for the saving of their lives.
Mr. Winsloe developed in a direction that C. B. had never suspected
him of, he became a bowelless taskmaster, apparently needing no rest
himself nor imagining that anybody else could want any.
Merritt took his place in the fighting line the next day, apparently
none the worse for his awful experiences, although a keen observer
might have seen in his sunken cheeks and hollow eyes indelible signs
of the great struggle. But the poor skipper was in evil case. Only the
natural vigour of his constitution and the tremendous force of his will
pulled him through. For four days he lay alternating between stupor and
delirium, never left by night or day, of course, entirely unconscious
of how the great business of the voyage was being carried on without
him.
When at last he emerged into the land of sense Winsloe was with him,
having snatched a few minutes from the work to come down and have a
look at his suffering chief. And when he found that the captain was
sane again he felt a great lump in his throat, a weight lifted from his
chest, for with all his undoubted faults he loved the skipper and would
have felt his loss, in spite of the immediate benefit to himself, as a
blow for which there could be no adequate compensation. Captain Taber
raised his sadly attenuated hand and groped for that of Mr. Winsloe,
saying feebly--
“Well, Winsloe, how goes it? Are all the other boats back?”
“Yes, sir,” replied Winsloe, “and nobody hurt to speak of but yourself.
But you’ve had a pretty bad time, sir, an’ I guess you don’t know that
it’s the thick end of a week since you was brought aboard. You’ll be
glad to know, an’ I think it’ll do you more good than all the doctors’
stuff in the world, that we’ve cut in five whale, an’ I’m figurin’ that
there’s between four an’ five hundred bar’l of oil very nearly ready to
run down. So we ain’t done so mighty bad after all.”
The effect upon the wounded man was magical. His eyes sparkled, and
he even made one effort to rise, but Winsloe put out a restraining
hand. “Well,” the captain cried in quite a strong voice, “I feel like
shoutin’ ‘Glory Hallelujah!’ If that ain’t great! But say, you ain’t
told me how long this job took ye?”
“It’s just seven days to an hour since we started, an’ pretty late in
the day it was, for Christmas was mighty slow in getting down to us,
bein’ handicapped by your two whale----”
“Two whale,” almost yelled the skipper. “D’ye mean t’ say that we saved
two?”
“Yes, sir, that’s a true bill. I ain’t heard all about it, but Merritt
can tell ye, or Christmas. They was on in that piece, I was about six
mile to looard, an’ wonderin’ pretty bad what all the waitin’ meant.
An’ before I go, sir, as I don’t think you orter be tried too much, I
wanter say that these yer new harponeers of ours is the whole thing. I
don’t want no better men, an’ I ain’t goin’ t’ wear mournin’ fer Pepe
and Louis any longer. Both at strikin’ whale and steerin’ boat they’re
the limit, an’ as fer work, well, they suit me, an’ I ain’t the
easiest man to please in the matter o’ cuttin’ in an’ tryin’ out. Now
do try and get a sleep agen, sir, an’ don’t put in any time worryin’,
because everythin’s goin’ jist as it orter.” And he slipped on deck.
But in spite of the mate’s cheery words he was far from satisfied with
the condition of things. Both Merritt and C. B., though neither of them
made any complaint, showed unmistakable signs of the enormous strain
that had been put upon them lately, C. B. especially, who was, as we
know, hardly convalescent when the pressure began. Besides that, the
other members of the captain’s boat’s crew were hardly fit to go on
much longer, although with rare fortitude they had stuck to their task
until work was almost done, and then were given lighter jobs--in fact,
the general routine of the ship was relaxed in view of the recent great
effort. So when Mr. Winsloe took his usual rough sights for position
and found that they were only about a couple of days’ sail with the
present wind from the Bonin Islands, he determined to steer for them,
and in the absence of any positive command on the part of the captain,
to go in and take a few days’ rest.
And as, in any case, he was not going out of his way, he shaped his
course for Peel Island and carried sail to the fair wind then blowing,
with the object of making as much headway as possible, although under
ordinary circumstances, being now really in the great northern haunt
of the cachalot, he would have been in the usual cruising trim which
I have described as being pursued on the offshore ground. But much to
his relief the captain, though still remaining very weak, kept his
faculties and a clear head, so that when Winsloe broached the subject
to him of making for Port Lloyd in order to give the crew and himself
a chance to recover, he gave the plan an emphatic sanction. “For,” he
said, “I ain’t as young as I uster be, an’ a smash up such as I’ve had
ain’t calculated to make me feel any spryer. And although I’ve got no
shadow of doubt as to your ability t’ carry on, Winsloe, t’ the end of
the chapter, I really should feel happier with the kellick down in the
ten fathom hole. Moreover, tain’t as if we ain’t earned a rest. That
last catch of ours hez pulled our average up bully.”
It was therefore with a light heart that Winsloe saw the bold outlines
of Peel Island standing out against the clear blue of the sky on the
third morning after the above conversation, and he noted with much
satisfaction how cheerful all hands seemed to be at the prospect of
a few days in harbour anywhere, whether it was possible to get any
of the so-called luxuries usually craved by sailors or not. Only two
of the crew had been there before, one of them being Merritt, and he
showed interest almost amounting to enthusiasm as he described the
wonders of the unique harbour to C. B. It was also, he said, almost
like his native place to him, for there he would certainly find some
people of the same strange mixture of races as he was himself, Chinese,
Japanese, Spaniards, Italians, Kanakas, and Americans having settled in
the strange place at different times, and their descendants being now
fairly numerous.
Captain Taber being still too weak to be moved with safety, and Mr.
Winsloe never having been into the place before, Mr. Merritt became
pilot, and C. B., who was well able to criticize, was charmed at the
consummate ease with which his chum took the vessel in under all sail
in spite of the baffling winds, which necessitated constant attention
to the braces and halyards. Port Lloyd is nothing but the crater of
a mighty volcano, extinct ages ago, and by some awful convulsion of
nature sunk down low enough for one breach in it to form the entrance
with a general depth of over twenty fathoms, while the remaining sides
of the crater tower up to a height of seven or eight hundred feet. As
might be expected there are many reefs and ledges within the harbour,
but they are easily seen from aloft when coming in, and the central
anchorage, into which a vessel must needs be warped by kedges, is a
natural dock with an almost level bottom of ten fathoms depth, secure
from every wind that blows and with splendid holding ground.
Into this beautiful nook the _Eliza Adams_ was taken and secured
to the immense satisfaction of all on board, and especially to Mr.
Winsloe, who now felt able to take that rest which he badly needed,
and, as there were several whaleships there, to get advice from other
commanders about the state of his captain’s health. Besides, it was an
ideal place for all those things that a ship like a whaler needs, good
water, plenty of fruit and vegetables, and swarms of excellent fish.
The sails were hardly furled before the captains of three of the
whaleships, the _Phoenix_, the _James Arnold_, and the _Coral_ were
alongside and coming on board were received by Mr. Winsloe with great
delight. They heard of the adventure which had laid Captain Taber low
with grave faces, and after Mr. Winsloe had first ascertained that
Captain Taber was fit to receive them they descended to his cabin and
greeted him with that deep cordiality which used to be so marked a
feature among these men, brothers in arms, knowing and respecting one
another from a thorough knowledge of the high qualities that went to
make up the complete whaleman.
But when they saw the wreck of their old friend, and had made a careful
examination of his injuries, they decided that although it was nothing
short of a miracle that he had made so good a recovery, it was hopeless
his attempting to finish the voyage. It was evident, they said, that he
must for at least a year to come have complete rest and immunity from
worry, and they gave it as their decided opinion that he should give
up the ship to Winsloe and go home. And although they did not say so
to him, they were also of opinion that George Taber would never again
be fit to command a ship in the great and strenuous business of sperm
whaling.