“Whales has feelin’s as well as anybody. They don’t like to be
stuck in the gizzards an’ hauled alongside, an’ cut in, an’ tried
out in those here boilers no more’n I do!”
_Barzy Macks’s Biology._
When the lookout at the masthead shouts out “Thar she blows,” or
“There she whitewaters,” the whaleboats are gotten out and rowed
towards the whale, while signals from the ship show from time to time
the whereabouts of the whales and directions for their pursuit. The
first man to “raise oil”—an expression which means the first to see a
whale—usually received a plug of tobacco or some other prize, and this
made the lookouts more keen.
In “Moby Dick” Melville says that the crew pulls to the refrain “A Dead
Whale or a Stove Boat,” which became such well-known by-words among
whalemen that when Mr. W. W. Crapo last year presented to New Bedford
“The Whaleman” statue, they were inscribed upon it. When rowing in a
rough sea the captain cautioned the men to trim the boat and not to
“shift their tobacco.”
As they approach the whale the bow oarsman, who is the harpooner,
stands up at a signal from the captain of the boat, who is steering,
and yells out to “give it to him.” The next order is probably to “stern
all” in order to avoid the whale. The boat is probably now fast,
and either the whale will sound and run out the line at a terrific
rate or else he may race away dragging the boat after him, which
whalemen call “A Nantucket Sleigh-Ride.” This kind of sleigh-ride was
often at railroad speed and was perhaps one of the most exhilarating
and exciting experiences in the line of sport. An empty boat would
certainly capsize, but a whaleboat had six trained, strong, athletic
men sitting on her thwarts, whose skill enabled them to sway their
bodies to the motions of the boat so that she would keep an even keel,
even though her speed might plough small valleys over the huge swells
and across the broad troughs of an angry Pacific, and great billows of
foam piled up at her bow while the water rushed past the stern like a
mad whirlpool. The greatest care must be taken not to allow the line
to get snarled up or to let a turn catch an arm or leg, for it would
result in almost immediate death to the person thus entangled. Conan
Doyle, who once took a trip on a whaler, tells of a man who was caught
by the line and hauled overboard so suddenly that he was hardly seen to
disappear. One of the men in the boat grabbed a knife to cut the line,
whereupon another seaman shouted out, “Hold your hand, the whale’ll be
a good present for the widow!”
[Illustration: No. 1. “The Chase.” A rare New Bedford print.]
[Illustration: No. 2. “The Conflict,” showing ratchet in bow through
which the line is run, and post in stern around which line is placed.]
[Illustration: No. 3. “The Capture.” A whale will usually turn on its
back when dying.]
There is one case known where a man who had been hauled down by the
line had the presence of mind to get out his knife and cut the rope,
which allowed him to come to the surface more dead than alive; also
occasionally the entangled arm or ankle would be torn off, thus freeing
the man and allowing him to rise.
Two harpoons were thrown if possible, and then it was customary for the
harpooner to exchange places with the boat-steerer, who got ready his
lance, which he plunged in and hauled out again until the whale went
into his “flurry” and rolled over dead, or “fin out” as it was called.
Often the whale would get frightened or “gallied,” or would jump in
the air or “breach,” and therefore great care was taken to avoid his
attacks. When the whale “breaches” the tail becomes very conspicuous,
and one old salt used to say that an additional tail appeared after
every glass of grog.
Scoresby speaks of a whale which drew out from the different boats ten
thousand four hundred and forty yards, or nearly six miles, of rope. It
was necessary when the line of one boat was nearly exhausted to bend on
the end to a new rope in another boat and so on, and of course often
miles of rope and many harpoons would be lost if the whale escaped.
When the line was drawn out rapidly it was necessary to pour water over
the snub post to keep the rope from burning.
There have been races almost as exciting as a Harvard-Yale race when
the boats of different nations have been dashing for a whale, which is
prized at between three thousand and four thousand dollars. Many years
ago an English, a French, a Dutch, and an American ship lay becalmed
in the Pacific, when suddenly a whale was “raised.” All four ships
lowered and raced across the waters, with the American in the rear. In
a few minutes the Yankee passed the Dutchman, who yelled “donner und
blitzen!” The American captain encouraged his men by shouting “Thar
she blows, she’s an eighty-barreler, break the oars, lads!” and soon
the French were left astern with curses of “Le diable.” The Englishmen
were still ahead; the American boat-steerer now began to help the
stroke oarsman by pushing his oar, and their boat crept up slowly upon
their only rivals. The English boat-steerer also grabbed his stroke’s
oar, but it snapped off at the rowlock, and the Americans overtook
them and captured the whale. Another international race took place
in Delagoa Bay, which has become a classic among American whalemen.
Again an English and a Yankee whaleboat were chasing a whale, and, in
some manner, the former was able to cut in between the whale and the
Americans, and as the English harpooner was reaching for his iron, the
American harpooner “pitch-poled” his harpoon over the English boat, and
his iron made fast.
[Illustration: A “cutting” stage, showing blubber being stripped from
the whale.]
[Illustration: Hauling the “case,” or head, on board. The case weighs
sometimes as much as 30 tons.]
[Illustration: Cutting off the lower jaw of a sperm whale, showing the
teeth.]
After a capture came the long, hard row back to the ship, then the
tedious process of “cutting in” and “trying out.” First of all the
head, or “case,” was cut off and tied astern while the strips of
blubber were cut from the body and hauled on board, as next shown, by
means of huge tackles from the mast. Blubber averages in thickness
from twelve to eighteen inches, and if cut four and one-half inches
thick would carpet a room sixty-six feet long by twenty-seven wide.
Then the head was either bailed out, if it were a sperm whale, or
else the whalebone was taken in, if it were a right whale. The strips
or “blanket pieces” were then minced, and after boiling, the oil was
cooled and stored away in barrels below deck. The “try-works” consisted
of iron pots set in brick furnaces, and there were pans of water
underneath to prevent the decks from burning. This process of boiling
the oil was most irksome and disagreeable as the men were soaked in oil
from head to foot, and the smell of the burning fluid was so frightful
that it has often been alluded to as Hell on a large scale, and was
usually called a “squantum,” which is the Nantucket word for a picnic;
nevertheless, old whalers delighted in it.
It is a superstition among some whalemen that a ship which for once has
a sperm whale’s head on her starboard quarter, and a right whale’s on
her port side, will never afterwards capsize.