Sick of the Sea.—Description of the Boats and Whaling Apparatus.—
Boat-headers.—Boat-steerers.—Mastheads.—The first Whale.—“There
she blows!”—All hands excited.—Lowering the Boats.—“Pull, every
man of you.”—A Fisherman’s Luck.—Whales again.—Cape Verd Islands.—
St. Antonio.—St. Jago.—Fogo, the Island of Fire.—Going ashore.—A
noisy Crowd.—Tom and the Portugee Donkey.—Manuel.—Now for Cape
Horn.
It blew very fresh through the night, and could the old ship have
come to an anchor about this time, we hardly think many of the “green
hands” would have remained on board. But it was of no avail now to
complain; all were in for it, and must take the evil with the good
from this time until the end of the voyage.
Nothing worthy of note transpired, with the exception of occasionally
seeing a sail, until Wednesday, November 31st, being about five weeks
out, when we saw our first sperm whale. But before we lower the boats
and capture this fellow, let us make the reader acquainted as much as
possible with our boats and whaling apparatus.
Our ship carried four boats on the cranes, besides four more spare
ones in case of accident, such as a boat being stove, etc. They are
built in a manner to enable them to stand a very heavy sea, and at
the same time very light and buoyant; about twenty-five feet in
length and four in breadth, and sharp at both ends, for motion in
either direction without turning. Near the stern of the boat is
placed a strong, upright, round piece of wood, a little one side from
the centre, which is termed the “loggerhead.” The whale-line passes
two or three times around this when running out of the boat. At the
head or bow is a groove, exactly in the centre, through which the
line passes when taken out by the whale. In each boat are two tubs,
containing each about one hundred and fifty fathoms, or eighteen
hundred feet altogether in length, of the best Manilla tow-line, very
carefully coiled, that it may run out perfectly clear and free; for
such is the velocity of its egress sometimes that, should any thing
obstruct its free passage, the boat, with all its contents, would
be immediately drawn under the surface. There are also five or six
harpoons, three lances, a keg, called the lantern-keg, containing a
lantern with candles, matches, tinder, bread, pipes, and tobacco,
that the boat’s crew may have something with which to sustain nature
in case of being off in the night-time, or losing the ship in the
day-time; a waif, which is a small flag fastened to a pole, to be
inserted in the dead whale, as a signal to the ship that it is a
“dead fish;” one or two drugs, which are pieces of plank about a foot
or eighteen inches in diameter, with a centre-post, and short line
attached, by which they are fastened to the whale-line, serving to
check the speed of the whale in sounding or running.
[Illustration: DRUG.]
Each boat is commanded by one of the officers of the ship, who is
styled “boat-header;” the captain commanding the starboard boat, the
first mate the larboard boat, the second mate the waist-boat, and
the third mate the bow boat; and they are manned each by a crew
of five, one of whom is the harpooner, or “boat-steerer.” All four
boats are used in the chase, the race often becoming exciting as to
which shall be the “first boat fast.”
[Illustration:
Spade and Sheath.
Blubber Pike.
Lance.
Harpoon and Sheath.
Dipper.
Oil Dipper.
Pike.]
[Illustration: THE MASTHEADMAN.]
From the commencement of the voyage to its close men are stationed
at each masthead, on the look-out for whales, and are relieved every
two hours. When a whale is seen by any one of the men aloft, he
immediately sings out in a peculiar voice, “There she blows!” and
repeats it as often as the whale spouts. The officer of the deck
immediately cries out, “Where away?” and the look-out replies, giving
the direction of the whale from the ship. The officer again asks,
“How far off?” The distance is given, and, in a shorter space of time
than is occupied in relating it, the captain is at masthead with his
spy-glass. As soon as he ascertains the fact that they are sperm
whales, he sings out, “Call all hands; get the boats ready, and stand
by to lower;” at the same time giving directions to the man at the
wheel to keep the ship in the proper direction.
It is impossible to describe the excitement that now prevails. All are
anxious to obtain a glimpse, many for the first time, of the monster.
The lethargy produced by the hitherto monotonous voyage is now shaken
off, and one and all partake of the excitement. All is bustle and
animation; some are at masthead, some are in the rigging, and others
flying around, getting the boats in perfect order, and ready to be
lowered at a moment’s notice. If the whale is to the leeward of the
ship, she is kept in that direction; if to windward, the boats are sent
in chase, which often proves to be an arduous task. In this instance
the whale was to the leeward. When we were within proper distance, the
captain coming down, called out, “Haul aback the mainyards; lower away
the boats,” and the respective crews follow them down. In a moment
more they are pulling for the whale. From hour to hour, and often
from sunrise to sunset, do these hardy men toil at the oar, enduring
suffering and fatigue, almost unnoticed under the eager excitement of
the chase, to be the head boat, or the “first boat fast;” and this
under a scorching tropical sun. The waist boat draws near the whale,
and all is excitement; the officer crying out, “Pull, men, _do_ pull;
now, my hearties, give way; oh! men, _do_ pull; I’ll give you any thing
I’ve got, only put me alongside that whale; there he blows; only three
seas off,” etc. The boat is close to him; it draws nearer and nearer;
the officer orders the boat-steerer to “stand up;” he rises in his
place and lifts the fatal weapon; and, when the boat is close enough,
the order is given, “Give it to him; give it to him, I tell you!” The
boat-steerer darts and misses him, and the whale is “gallied,” or
frightened, and takes French leave. Thus ended our first chase after
a whale, as did many more during the voyage, and, after having pulled
nearly all day, they returned to the ship, all hands disappointed,
but the captain cheering us with “better luck next time.” Having
thus disposed of our “first whale,” we kept on our course, steering
southeast, for the Cape Verd Islands.
On Tuesday, November 27th, we again saw sperm whales, lowered all the
boats in chase, but they were going too fast for us, and, pulling a
long time with no success, gave up and came on board.
The next day we saw the island of St. Antonio, and ran in toward
the land. The inhabitants of this island, like all others of the
Cape Verd group, are Portuguese. They subsist principally on the
yam, sweet potato, cocoanut, banana, orange, etc., and fish; live in
nearly a nude state; are, as a general thing, treacherous, thieving,
ignorant, and superstitious. The Roman Catholic religion is the only
one tolerated.
On Thursday, the 29th, we passed the island of St. Jago, another
of the same group. We were now steering for Fogo, which, on the
following morning at daybreak, we saw distant about nine miles. On
this island is a volcano, whose summit is one and a quarter miles
above the level of the sea. From this volcano the island derives
its name, “Fogo, the Island of Fire.” Some years since an eruption
took place, which destroyed most of the vegetation, and many of
the inhabitants lost their lives. Those that escaped took boats
and proceeded to the island of Bravo, a few miles distant. Our
captain sent two of our boats in to the shore, for the purpose of
trading with the natives, exchanging calico, beads, looking-glasses,
trinkets, etc., for various fruits. The opportunity now being
given us of visiting dry land once more, we accepted it joyfully.
As we drew in near to the shore, the island presented a beautiful
appearance; the mountains and hills were covered with green verdure;
the natives were seen flocking down their sides, some loaded with
baskets of fruit of various kinds, some driving a miserable-looking
donkey before them, with a basket of fruit on one side and a pig on
the other; here, too, might be seen a great strapping Portuguese
woman, with a pig over her shoulder, shouting as loud as her burden
squealed, and all hallooing to the boats; the waves breaking over the
reef in thunder tones, and all together creating one of the wildest
scenes of confusion we have ever witnessed. We finally found, after
pulling along the shore for some distance, an opening in the reef,
where we might land without danger of getting our boats stove to
pieces, and pulled in. As soon as we landed we were surrounded by
nearly two hundred Portuguese, and a scene now ensued that beggars
description. Imagine a flock of two hundred birds, all chattering,
about fifty hogs squealing, goats bleating, donkeys braying, and
sailors shouting and laughing, and you have some faint idea of the
real scene. Some of our men, too, went in for a little fun. One of
them, Tom W., a regular wag, managed to steal a Portuguese’s donkey
for a short ride up the mountain and back. When he returned, the
donkey’s master wanted the moderate sum of seven dollars for the use
of the animal. Tom told him he would give him his note for ten years;
but the Gee would not be satisfied, until, a crowd gathering around,
the matter was finally compromised by Tom’s buying his basket of
oranges, containing, perhaps, a hundred, for which he gave him about
one eighth of a pound of tobacco.
In the afternoon we returned to the ship, our boats loaded with
fruit. We also brought off with us a wild Portugee, who was
determined, in spite of the remonstrances of our officers, to “see
the elephant.” He could not speak a word of English, and seemed
to look on all the proceedings on board ship with a great deal of
comical dignity and interest. He made the captain understand by
signs that he wished to go the voyage. Accordingly they soon struck
a bargain, and Manuel became a member of the ship’s company. He was
furnished with a couple of suits of clothes, Tom W. gravely remarking
that “it was the first suit of clothes that was ever in the family,”
and sent forward. He was of noble build, being six feet three inches
high, and well proportioned. He soon, however, was obliged to “cast
up his accounts,” and we never saw a more pitiable-looking object
than sea-sick Portugee Manuel; and, while many of the crew were
passing jokes upon him, he looked as if he fully believed he had
fallen into the hands of barbarians.
From this island we shaped our course for Cape Horn.