WHALING IN THE SOUTH PACIFIC
I was in the habit of walking around the docks of the East and North
Rivers in New York and looking at the shipping. Fronting the river were
a number of shipping offices for sailors, and some of them had a placard
offering eighty dollars advance for men for the whaling service. So, one
day, I went into one of the offices and stated my desires. I was very
cordially received. That evening, with several others, I was sent to New
Bedford, Mass. On our arrival there we were assigned to a sailors'
boarding-house. In about two weeks afterward I was shipped on board the
Courier, for a three years' cruise in the South Pacific Ocean, for the
capture of sperm whales. I was to get one barrel of oil for myself out
of every one hundred and ninety that we should capture. Sperm oil was
worth about two dollars a gallon. No petroleum had been discovered at
that time.
I was furnished with a seaman's outfit, which, with my board bill and
expenses, amounted exactly to eighty dollars; that was the advance. I
signed an agreement that the captain should pay that amount out of the
first money due me. Captain Coffin, four mates, and four boat-steerers
were the officers of the ship, with twenty-eight men before the mast, a
cooper, blacksmith, carpenter, cook, and steward--forty-two men on the
vessel, and the captain's wife and little boy.
The night before we sailed I wrote to my father and mother and let them
know what I had done. I thought at the time that I knew more than they
did. Well, the older I grow, the more I realize what a fool I have been
all my life, and never a greater one than I am now at the age of
sixty-two.
One morning early we weighed anchor, and were soon out of sight of land;
then the voyage began in earnest. Much to my surprise, we had to take
turns perched up aloft for two hours at a time on the top-gallant
cross-trees, looking out for whales. Why, I never thought there was a
whale within five thousand miles of New Bedford at that time, but I was
mistaken. They are sometimes captured in sight of the harbour. The
boat-steerers were kept busy fixing up their harpoons and lances,
getting the boats ready, coiling the lines in the tubs etc. In the
meantime the mates were watching the crew very closely to see which men
were the most active.
After we were at sea about ten days all hands were called aft to the
mizzen-mast. Then the mates, each in turn, picked out one man for his
own boat's crew. Being light and active, I was made stroke-oarsman of
the first mate's boat, and a lively job it proved to be, too. Soon we
got in the warm latitudes and calm days, and then the boats would be
lowered in order to give the crews exercise and practice in rowing. It
was hard work, but we soon became expert oarsmen.
One day we sighted the Cape Verde Islands, and sailed among them for a
few days. Boats were sent ashore; rotten tobacco--outfit quality--was
traded to the natives for fruit; then I got in my work, so far as the
fruit went. The ship then steered for the Island of Martinbas-Trinidado,
21 deg. south latitude, for the purpose of ascertaining whether our
chronometers were still correct, by comparing our observations with the
longitude of the island, as that is known to a certainty.
Trinity Rock, as it is called also, is uninhabited, quite barren, and
only a few miles in circumference. That is the place where we had our
first adventure. The first mate's boat was to take the crew, with the
captain, his wife and child, also three old muskets and ammunition, and
land them in a seaman-like manner on the island. The boat's party with
the old army muskets were to kill a number of mythical goats on land.
We pulled close to the shore, just outside of the heavy surf, trying to
find a safe place to land. Finally we came to an opening in the reef.
Inside, the water looked smooth and inviting, and there was also a nice
sandy beach. To the left of the reef was the wreck of a French ship,
the bowsprit pointing straight up into the air. While looking at the
wreck, we saw a large green turtle just ahead of the boat. Then visions
of turtle soup with our goat's meat dawned upon us. It chanced, though,
that in trying to capture that turtle we made a great mistake, for just
at that time a very-heavy surf came over the reef and capsized our boat.
Things were badly mixed for a time. Boat, oars, men, and the captain's
wife and child were going in every direction. Finally things quieted
down a little, and we landed on the beach. We got the boat and what oars
we could, and then took a rest on the burning hot sand. The weather
being very warm, the boat's crew all wore leather slippers and no
stockings. We had to run up and down on the sand with our bare feet, as
the aforesaid slippers were lost when the boat went over. I picked hard
little short thorns out of my feet for days afterward. They came from
dried-up vines that grew in the sand.
The beach was honeycombed with large holes, and each hole contained a
big yellow land-crab. Every step we took, snap would go a big pair of
claws for our feet. We had also lost our straw hats, so we had the full
benefit of the sun on our bare heads. A number of wild land birds of a
good, healthy size would swoop down upon us. It was anything but a
pleasure at that time, and the muskets being lost also, the captain and
mate changed their minds about the goat business.
The cause of our disaster was made clear to us in a short time. The surf
for about ten minutes would run low, and then would be followed by three
tremendous rollers in succession. It was the latter that wrecked us on a
barren island. We soon got tired of life on shore. The question was how
to get away.
In the meantime, while we were on the goat expedition, the second mate's
boat had left the ship on a fishing excursion. They anchored the boat
near shore, outside the surf, and were hauling the fish in at a lively
rate. We needed their assistance. As the mate still had his shoes on his
feet, he went quite a distance down the beach and made signals for the
boat to follow him back. When they got opposite to us we explained the
situation. By watching for a good chance, they pulled in quickly and
threw us the end of a harpoon-line, and got outside of the reef. We
fastened the line to the bow of our boat, and when a low surf came in
launched it, were towed out by the other boat, and arrived on board the
ship very much disgusted with the whole business.
The old Courier's yards were braced around and we were off for Cape
Horn, 56 deg. south latitude. One day, it being quite calm, the lookouts at
the mast-head noticed a lot of sea-gulls flying around in a circle, and
under them something floating in the water. We thought it might be a
dead whale, so the mate's boat was lowered. We found it to be an old
cask, which must have been in the water for years, as it was thickly
covered with barnacles.
We towed the cask to the ship and hoisted it on board. As it came out of
the sea we noticed that the staves were completely honeycombed by the
sea-worms. The water was spurting out as if it were a sprinkling-pot. We
had just got it over the ship's rail when it burst, and the contents
fell on the deck. It proved to be palm-oil, probably from some vessel in
the African trade that had been wrecked. It had, no doubt, drifted many
thousands of miles. We saved two barrels of oil out of our catch.
The weather soon began to get much cooler, and storms were frequent;
then we began to see the albatross and Cape Horn pigeons. The latter is
about the size of a domestic pigeon, but has webbed feet and a hooked
bill, and is the only wild bird having variegated plumage, no two being
marked alike. We caught quite a number of the albatross, some measuring
seventeen feet from tip to tip of wing. We caught them with large
fishhooks baited with a big piece of salt pork. The bait would float on
the surface of the water. We had them walking all over the decks, as
they cannot fly unless they run on water to give them a good start. The
large webbed feet make excellent money pouches when dried and properly
dressed.
In the month of January, midsummer in the southern hemisphere, we
sighted Staten Land, the extreme southern point of South America, and
ordinarily designated as Cape Horn. For the first time we then saw the
Pacific Ocean, "so near and yet so far," for just at this time we were
struck by a heavy northwest gale. A close-reefed main top-sail and storm
stay-sail was all we could carry with the ship headed as close to the
wind as possible, so as to ride over the mountain-like waves. The helm
was lashed hard down, as there was no steerage way.
There we were, drifting to the south for about three weeks before the
gale broke, and we were able to make sail on the ship. It was daylight
for twenty-two hours, and the other two hours of the twenty-four could
not be called dark. Such days would be delightful for farmers in this
part of the world. Soon after the storm we got fair winds, and were on
our cruising grounds off the southern coast of Chile and northern part
of Patagonia (the new boundary gives the whole coast to Chile now).
The ship's crew was then divided into four watches, with a boat-steerer
in charge and only one watch on duty at a time, so we had plenty of
leisure. Every night, all sail but two would be close reefed, top-sails
would be furled, then the ship would be headed offshore until midnight,
and would then go about and stand inshore until daylight, when all sail
would be set again. At certain seasons whales come down the coast going
south, and we were keeping a bright lookout for them.
Each whaleboat's outfit consists of three harpoons, two lances, one
cutting-in spade, one tub with three hundred fathoms of
five-eighths'-inch whale-line, one extra tub with one hundred fathoms,
one tight keg containing boat compass, lantern, steel and flint, and
some sea biscuit. The latter articles are used only in case the boat is
lost from the ship, which frequently happens.
There is a number of different species among the whales. They are all
mammals, bringing forth and suckling their calves. On attacking a cow
and calf together, it is the custom to kill the latter first, as the cow
will never desert her calf. The sulphur-bottom whale is the largest, but
it is never harpooned, as it is too dangerous, and will always run all
the line out of the tubs before it stops sounding. The sperm whale
furnishes the most valuable oil. The sperm whale throws its flukes, or
tail, up and down when attacked, so it is possible for a boat to
approach one head, or fluke, on. The right whale furnishes the common
oil, and in larger quantities; sometimes one fish will yield two hundred
and fifty barrels of oil, as well as many pounds of whalebone, now very
scarce and valuable. It hangs in large thin sheets from the jaws, wide
at the top, and tapering to a narrow point with hair-like fringe on the
edges. The right whale can be attacked only "head on," as they throw
their flukes from side to side. They are captured in the cold northern
seas, the sperm in southern waters. One hundred barrels is a large yield
from one fish of the latter species.
We saw several whales, but could not get near them. Finally, one big
fellow was sighted, and all boats were lowered, the first mate's being
in the water first. Having a good fair wind, we set the boat's sail. In
a short time we were close to the whale. Being stroke-oarsman, it was my
duty to keep the sheet of the sail in my hand, having one turn around a
cleat. The boat-steerer stands up with a harpoon ready. Soon we were
right on top of the fish, the sheet was "let go," a harpoon was thrown
just as we were going over the whale's back, and then the fun began. The
line leads from the tub to a post in the stern of the boat--two turns
around it--and thence through a cleat in the boat's bows. The tub was
alongside me. I was kept busy throwing water on the line, so that the
friction would not set fire to the post, or "loggerhead." The mate was
holding that rope in his hand all the time, just keeping all the strain
on it possible without sinking the boat. If he had let a kink get into
that line as it came from the tub, the boat and crew would have gone
under water in quick order. If he had let the line slip off the
"loggerhead" it would probably have killed every man in the boat. The
noise and sawing of that rope, with the smoke and steam from the
"loggerhead," I can remember to this day. The whale stopped sounding at
last. We were watching which way the line would point as the whale was
coming up, and discovering that the line was directly under us, we got
away from that spot in a very lively manner, as that was a sure sign
that his whaleship intended to have a fight with the boat. They
frequently play that trick, and the crew have to jump into the water,
provided they have a chance to do so. In a few minutes our friend came
to the surface, spouted water, and then started off "dead to
windward"--they invariably do so--at a terrific speed. The boat-steerer
and mate now changed places, and all the men except myself reversed
positions, so as to face the boat's bow. They hauled in the line, and I
coiled it carefully back in the tub. When alongside of the whale, the
mate threw a lance as often as possible, aiming at a point just behind
the fin, at what is called the "life." It is a mass of very large veins
just under the backbone, that is used by the whale as a reservoir for
the extra blood which it requires while under water. When that is once
cut, a whale spouts blood instead of water. Down he went again. We had
to keep up that sort of work for about two hours, until finally the
blood was thrown from the spout, and we were completely covered with it.
In a little while our capture began to swim in a circle and on one side
with one fin out of water, and soon he was dead. Sharks made their
appearance in the water so close to the boat that we could strike them
with our oars, and hundreds of large sea-birds were wildly flying around
us, all attracted by the blood. In the meantime the other boats had been
rowing hard to overtake us if possible and assist, or pick us up, in
case of accident. As we were dead to windward, and several miles from
the ship, all the boats had to fasten on and tow the whale back, and a
big contract it was.
On the ship everything had been made ready for "cutting-in." The fish
was fastened alongside by heavy iron chains and, with heavy tackles from
the main masthead and loading to the windlass, the blubber was slowly
hoisted on deck. The captain and the mate did the cutting with
long-handled blubber spades. They kept cutting one continuous strip two
feet wide, and at every eight feet would cut a hole and hook in the next
tackle; and so they kept on hoisting and lowering until the blubber was
all on board. It was a process similar to peeling an orange. The strain
from the windlass kept the whale's body revolving in the water as the
blubber was cut. The head was cut off and hoisted on deck entire. The
chains being removed, the carcass, weighing many tons, sank to the
bottom, the sharks voraciously following it.
Then a fire was built under the try-pots, with wood. As the oil was
boiled from the blubber it would be put in a cooling-pot and thence into
casks, the scraps being used for fuel. That work lasted for about a
week, everybody working hard. It was nothing but oil all over the
ship--clothing, food, and water--all had a liberal allowance. Eighty
barrels was the total of that catch. A few weeks later we sighted a
school of young whales. Several other ships being close at the time, it
was boats, whales, sharks, and everything mixed up.
Our boatswain got knocked overboard while we were fast to a whale;
another boat picked him up. We got only two whales out of the lot,
fifteen barrels of oil out of one and twenty out of the other. Some of
the other ships got five and six. About that time the season on that
coast ended. The captain concluded to make for port and get fresh
provisions and water, and then make a trip north of the equator. The
water in our casks was getting rather stale; it tasted and smelled like
a strong decoction of dead rats. San Carlos, Chiloe Island, was the port
we anchored in. I took a look at the shore and made up my mind that if I
ever got my feet on dry land they would stay there.