The vessel on board which we so happily found ourselves was called _The
Shetland Maid_,--her master, Captain John Rendall. She measured three
hundred and fifty tons, was barque-rigged, and perfectly fitted as a
whaler, being also strengthened by every means which science could
devise, to enable her to resist the pressure of the ice to which such
vessels must inevitably be exposed in their progress through the arctic
seas. She had forty-two souls on board, including officers, being some
few short of her complement, as two fell sick in Orkney before leaving,
and two were unhappily lost overboard in a furious gale she encountered
soon after sailing.
Andrew, Terence, and I remained two days below under the doctor's care,
and by the third had completely recovered our usual strength. Tom
Stokes, who had suffered most, and was not naturally so strong, took a
week before he came round.
As soon as we appeared on deck, the captain called us aft, and desired
to know our adventures. Andrew was the spokesman, and the captain
expressed himself much pleased with our messmate's mode of narrating
them.
"Well, my men," he said, "I have lost some of my crew, and I suppose
you'll have no objection to entering regularly for the voyage in their
place. You'll share with the other able seamen eighteenpence for each
tun of oil, you know, besides monthly wages."
We told him that we should be glad to enter, and would sign articles
when he pleased; and that we would answer for Tom Stokes, that he would
do the same.
Behold me at last, then, as I have styled myself, PETER THE WHALER. We
were now standing to the northward, and rapidly approaching the ice.
Before, however, I proceed with an account of my adventures, I will
describe the ship, her officers and crew, and the peculiar arrangements
made to fit her for the service in which she was employed.
Captain Rendall was a well-educated, intelligent, brave, and, I feel
sure, a truly religious man. I may say, without more than justice, that
he was the father of his crew. His father had been in the same service
before him for many years; and he had the advantage of his experience,
to which he added the knowledge he himself had gained. I do not give
him as a specimen of the masters of all whalers, for I fear there are
few like him, though they must of necessity be intelligent and superior
men. There were three mates. The chief mate, Mr Todd, was also chief
harpooner or specksioneer. Then there were the other harpooners,
boat-steerers, line-managers, and coopers, beside foremast-men,
landsmen, and apprentices.
It is not the custom to pay simply monthly wages; but, as an inducement
to all hands to exert themselves in their several capacities in
capturing fish, they receive a gratuity for every size fish caught
during the voyage, or a certain sum for every tun of oil which the cargo
produces. The master gets scarcely any pay if he has no success in his
voyage; but for every whale killed he gets three guineas, from ten to
twenty shillings for each tun of oil, and a thirtieth to a twentieth on
the value of the cargo; so that he may make as much as five hundred
pounds by a single voyage. The chief mate may get nearly a hundred, and
the seamen twenty-five pounds each. Many of the ships belong to Hull
and other northern ports of England and Scotland; but it is usual to
touch at the Orkneys or Shetland, to complete the complement of the crew
with the hardy islanders who inhabit them.
A whaler, in order to withstand the shock of the ice, is strengthened
inside, both at the stem and stern, by stout timbers placed in various
directions, and fastened securely together; while on the outside she is
in parts covered with a double, and even a treble planking, besides
other thick pieces, which serve to ward off the blows from the parts
most likely to receive them. How little all the strengthening which the
art and ingenuity of man can devise is of avail against the mighty power
of the ice, I shall have hereafter to describe. The masts of a whaler
are lower than in a common merchantman, and her sails are smaller, and
cut in a different shape, the courses or lower sails decreasing towards
the foot, so as to be worked with slight strength. Sometimes this is of
importance, as, when all the boats are away together in chase of whales,
three or four men alone remain on board to take care of the ship.
A whale-ship, therefore, though she has great care and expense bestowed
on her, has not, in port, the graceful and elegant appearance possessed
by some other ships, bound to more genial climes. The crew do not sleep
in hammocks, as on board men-of-war, but in berths or standing
bed-places, erected on the half-deck forward. It is a dark retreat, and
not scented with sweet odours, especially after a ship has begun to take
in her cargo; but the weary seaman cares little where he lays his head,
provided it is in a dry and warm place.
We next come to the boats--a very important part of the outfit. The bow
and stern of a whale-boat are both sharp, rise considerably, and are
nearly alike. It has great beam, or breadth, to prevent its being
dragged, when towed by a whale, completely under the water. The keel is
convex in the centre, to enable it to be turned more easily; and for the
same reason it is steered by an oar instead of a rudder. The oar can
also turn a boat when she is at rest, and can scull her in calm weather
up to a whale without noise. A large-size boat is pulled by five oars,
and one to steer, and a small one by four oars; the first being from
twenty-six to twenty-eight feet long, and the last from twenty-three to
twenty-four. A large one is five feet five inches in breadth; and a
small one five feet three inches.
The rowers include the harpooner and the line-manager. They are
carvel-built--that is, the planks are placed as in a ship. Boats in
general are clinker-built--that is, the planks overlap each other; but
as they are difficult to repair, the other simpler method is employed.
A ship generally carries seven boats--two or more large, and the rest
small. They are suspended by cranes, or davits, in a row outside the
rigging, on either side of the ship, and another astern, so that they
can be directly lowered into the water. A smart crew will man and lower
a boat in the space of a minute, and be away in chase of a whale.
When we got on board, the boats' crews were busily employed in getting
their respective boats and gear ready for action. Each boat had a
harpooner, who pulled the bow oar, a steersman, next to him in rank, who
steered, and a line-manager, who pulled the after or stroke oar; and
besides them were two or three seamen who pulled the other oars.
The first operation, after cleansing the boats, was to get the lines
spliced and coiled away; and when it is remembered that each whale may
be worth from five hundred to eight hundred pounds, and that, if the
lines are in any way damaged, the fish may be lost, it will be
acknowledged that they have good reason to be careful. Each line is
about one hundred and twenty fathoms long; so that when the six lines,
with which each boat is supplied, are spliced together, the united
length is seven hundred and twenty fathoms, or four thousand three
hundred and twenty feet.
A few fathoms of the line is left uncovered, with an eye at the end, in
order to connect the lines of another boat to it; for sometimes, when a
whale swims far, or dives deep, the lines of several boats are joined
together. The rest of the line is neatly and carefully coiled away in
the stern of the boat.
To the upper end of the line is spliced the "fore-ganger" of a "spanned
harpoon," thus connecting the harpoon with all the lines in the boat. A
"fore-ganger" is a piece of rope a few fathoms long, made of white or
untanned hemp, so as to be more flexible and easily extended when the
harpoon is projected from the hand.
As the crew of each boat accomplished the work of coiling away their
lines, they gave three hearty cheers, to which we all responded; so we
had as much cheering as at a sailing match.
I must try to describe a harpoon, for the benefit of those who have
never seen one. It is the whaler's especial weapon--the important
instrument of his success. It consists of a "socket," "shank," and
"mouth." The shank, which is made of the most pliable iron, is about
two feet long; the socket is about six inches long, and swells from the
shank to nearly two inches in diameter; and the mouth is of a barbed
shape, each barb or wither being eight inches long and six broad, with a
smaller barb reversed in the inside. The object of the barb, of course,
is to prevent the harpoon being drawn out of the whale after it has been
fixed.
The hand harpoon is projected by aid of a stock or handle of wood, seven
feet in length, fixed in the socket. After the whale is struck, this
handle falls out; but it is not lost, as it is secured to the line by a
loop. The line, it must be remembered, is fastened to the iron part of
the harpoon.
Harpoon-guns are now frequently used for projecting harpoons. The
harpoon for this purpose is made with two shanks, side by side, one of
which goes into the bore of the gun; to the other on the outside the
line is attached.
On every harpoon is stamped the name of the ship, so that it is at once
easy to ascertain, from the weapon in the whale, by whom it was struck.
Lances are also used, with long handles and sharp heads, to assist in
killing the whale.
Each boat is furnished with two harpoons, eight lances, and some spare
oars; a flag, with its staff, to serve as a signal; a "mik," as a rest
for the harpoon, when ready for instant service; an axe, ready for
cutting the line when necessary; a "pigging," a small bucket for baling
out the boat; two boat-hooks, and many other things which I need
scarcely name.
A most important contrivance belonging to a whaler is the crow's-nest,
which I may describe as a sentry-box at the mast-head. It is, perhaps,
more like a deep tub, formed of laths and canvas, with a seat in it, and
a movable screen, which traverses on an iron rod, so that it can
instantly be brought round on the weather side. In the bottom is a
trap-door, by which it is entered. Here the master takes up his post,
to pilot his ship among the ice; and here, also, a look-out is kept,
when whales are expected to appear in the distance.
Just consider how necessary it is to have a good shelter, when
frequently the temperature of the air is from 10 degrees to 20 degrees
below the freezing-point.
I must not forget to mention the means taken for preserving the cargo of
blubber. This is done in casks, in which the blubber is placed after it
has been cut up into very small portions. The casks are stowed in the
hold, and some are placed between decks; and when there has been unusual
success, so that there are not casks enough, the blubber is stowed away
in bulk among them.
The mode of fishing, and the remainder of the operations, will be
described in the course of my narrative.
In three more days we were all ready. The harpoon-guns were cleaned,
oiled, and fastened, with their swivels, on the "billet-heads," in the
bows of the boats. Each harpooner got a supply of gunpowder and
percussion-caps; and all other requisites were put into the boats.
The crow's-nest had been got up to the main-topgallant mast-head; and in
the afternoon we were ready, and eager to attack the first whale which
should appear. In the evening the harpooners were invited down into the
cabin, to receive their instructions for the season; and afterwards the
steward served out a glass of grog to all hands, to drink "a good voyage
and a full ship."
I had fully expected to see whales in such numbers, that we should have
nothing to do but to chase and capture them; but in this I was
disappointed, for not a whale did we meet; indeed, with the heavy sea
then running, had we got hold of one, we could not have secured it. It
was, I ought to say, towards the end of April, and we were in hourly
expectation of being among the ice, through which, at that time of the
year, it was expected a passage would easily be found to the northward.
We had seen several icebergs, which like their companion on which the
corvette was wrecked, had early broken away from the main body, as also
washing pieces and several large floes; but we had yet to learn what a
field of ice was like.
It was night, and blowing very hard from the south-west. It was my
watch on deck, and Mr Todd, the first mate, was officer of the watch.
We were standing on a bowline under our topsails, a sharp look-out being
kept ahead for danger. O'Connor and I were together, leaning against
the bulwarks and talking. "Well, Terence," I said, "I would rather find
myself homeward bound, after all that has occurred, than be obliged to
be running into a sea in which we shall all the time be obliged to be
cruising among ice."
"Oh, I don't consider much of that," he answered. "It's only a summer
cruise, you know; and when we get back, we shall have our pockets
stuffed with gold, and be able to talk of all the wonders we have seen."
"I hope we may get back. I have no fancy to spend a winter on the ice,"
I said.
"There are pleasanter places to live in, no doubt, Peter; but people
have lived not only one year, but several years running in those
regions, and have not been the worse for it," replied Terence.
Just then we were startled by the loud cry of "Breakers ahead!" Mr
Todd in a moment saw what was to be done. "Wear ship!" he exclaimed.
"Up with the helm. Gaff-topsail-sheets let fly. Drop the peak. Square
away the after-yards."
While these and other orders were given and executed, in order to take
the pressure of the wind off the after part of the ship, and to make her
head turn from it, I glanced in the direction towards which we were
running. A pale light seemed to be playing over it; and I could
distinguish, amid the foaming breakers, huge masses of ice dashing about
and heaving one upon another, any one of which, I thought, would be
sufficient to stave in the sides of the ship, if not to overwhelm her
completely.
At the same time a loud, crashing, grinding noise was heard, sufficient
to strike terror into the stoutest hearts. But it must be remembered
that we were all so busily engaged in flying here and there in the
performance of our duty, that we had no time for fear. This is a great
secret to enable men to go through dangers unappalled. Had we been
compelled to stand inactive, our feelings might have been very
different.
The ship wore slowly round; but still she seemed approaching the
threatening mass. She plunged more violently than before amid the
raging sea, and in another moment I felt certain we must be among the
upheaving masses. Just then her head seemed to turn from them; but a
sea struck her on the quarter and came rolling on board; a tremendous
blow was felt forward, another followed. Cries arose from some of the
men that all was lost, and I expected to find the ship instantly dashed
to pieces.
Our good captain rushed on deck. He cast one glance aloft, and another
at the ice. "She's clear, my lads," he shouted. The ship came round,
and in another instant we were on the eastern or lee side of the floe,
and gliding smoothly on in calm water through a broad passage, leading
amid the main body of the polar ice.