keen-looking man with a goatlike beard, and mouth stained with dry
tobacco juice, hailed me one afternoon at the street corner, I
answered very promptly, scenting a berth. "Lookin' fer a ship,
stranger?" said he. "Yes; do you want a hand?" said I anxiously. He
made a funny little sound something like a pony's whinny, then
answered: "Wall, I should surmise that I want between fifty and sixty
hands, ef yew kin lay me onto 'em; but, kem along, every dreep's a
drop, an' yew seem likely enough." With that he turned and led the way
until we reached a building, around which was gathered one of the most
nondescript crowds I had ever seen. There certainly did not appear to
be a sailor among them--not so much by their rig, though that is not a
great deal to go by, but by their actions and speech. However, I
signed and passed on, engaged to go I knew not where, in some ship I
did not know even the name of, in which I was to receive I did not
know how much or how little for my labor, nor how long I was going to
be away.
From the time we signed the articles, we were never left to ourselves.
Truculent-looking men accompanied us to our several boarding houses,
paid our debts for us, finally bringing us by boat to a ship lying out
in the bay. As we passed under her stern, I read the name Cachalot, of
New Bedford; but as soon as we ranged alongside, I realized that I was
booked for the sailor's horror--a cruise in a whaler. Badly as I
wanted to get to sea, I had not bargained for this, and would have run
some risks to get ashore again; but they took no chances, so we were
all soon aboard. Before going forward, I took a comprehensive glance
around, and saw that I was on board of a vessel belonging to a type
which has almost disappeared off the face of the waters. A more
perfect contrast to the trim-built English clipper ships that I had
been accustomed to I could hardly imagine. She was one of a class
characterized by sailors as "built by the mile, and cut off in lengths
as you want 'em," bow and stern almost alike, masts standing straight
as broomsticks, and bowsprit soaring upward at an angle of about
forty-five degrees. She was as old-fashioned in her rig as in her
hull. Right in the center of the deck, occupying a space of about ten
feet by eight, was a square erection of brickwork, upon which my
wondering gaze rested longest, for I had not the slightest idea what
it could be. But I was rudely roused from my meditations by the harsh
voice of one of the officers, who shouted, "Naow then, git below an'
stow yer dunnage, 'n look lively up agin!" Tumbling down the steep
ladder, I entered the gloomy den which was to be for so long my home,
finding it fairly packed with my shipmates. The whole space was
undivided by partition, but I saw at once that black men and white had
separated themselves, the blacks taking the port side and the whites
the starboard. Finding a vacant bunk by the dim glimmer of the ancient
teapot lamp that hung amidships, giving out as much smoke as light, I
hurriedly shifted my coat for a "jumper" or blouse, put on an old cap,
and climbed into the fresh air again. Even _my_ seasoned head was
feeling bad with the villainous reek of the place. I had hardly
reached the deck when I was confronted by a negro, the biggest I ever
saw in my life. He looked me up and down for a moment, then opening
his ebony features in a wide smile, he said: "Great snakes! why,
here's a sailor man for sure! Guess thet's so, ain't it, Johnny?" I
said "yes" very curtly, for I hardly liked his patronizing air; but he
snapped me up short with "yes, _sir_, when yew speak to me, yew blank
limejuicer. I'se de fourf mate of dis yar ship, en my name's Mistah
Jones, 'n yew jest freeze on to dat ar, ef yew want ter lib long 'n
die happy. See, sonny?" I _saw_, and answered promptly, "I beg your
pardon, sir, I didn't know." "Ob cawse yew didn't know, dat's all
right, little Britisher; naow jest skip aloft 'n loose dat
fore-taupsle." "Ay, ay, sir," I answered cheerily, springing at once
into the fore-rigging and up the ratlines like a monkey, but not too
fast to hear him chuckle, "Dat's a smart kiddy, I bet." On deck I
could see a crowd at the windlass heaving up anchor. I said to myself,
"They don't waste any time getting this packet away." Evidently they
were not anxious to test any of the crew's swimming powers. They were
wise, for had she remained at anchor that night I verily believe some
of the poor wretches would have tried to escape.
The anchor came aweigh, the sails were sheeted home, and I returned on
deck to find the ship gathering way for the heads, fairly started on
her long voyage.
Before nightfall we were fairly out to sea, and the ceremony of
dividing the crew into watches was gone through. I found myself in the
chief mate's or "port" watch (they called it "larboard," a term I had
never heard used before, it having long been obsolete in merchant
ships), though the huge negro fourth mate seemed none too well pleased
that I was not under his command, his being the starboard watch under
the second mate.
I was pounced upon next morning by "Mistah" Jones, the fourth mate,
whom I heard addressed familiarly as "Goliath" and "Anak" by his
brother officers, and ordered to assist him in rigging the
"crow's-nest" at the main royal-mast head. It was a simple affair.
There were a pair of cross-trees fitted to the mast, upon which was
secured a tiny platform about a foot wide on each side of the mast,
while above this foothold a couple of padded hoops like a pair of
giant spectacles were secured at a little higher than a man's waist.
When all was fast one could creep up on the platform, through the
hoop, and, resting his arms upon the latter, stand comfortably and
gaze around, no matter how vigorously the old barky plunged and kicked
beneath him. From that lofty eerie I had a comprehensive view of the
vessel. She was about three hundred and fifty tons and full
ship-rigged--that is to say, she carried square sails on all three
masts. Her deck was flush fore and aft, the only obstructions being
the brick-built "try-works" in the waist, the galley, and cabin
skylight right aft by the taffrail. Her bulwarks were set thickly
round with clumsy-looking wooden cranes, from which depended five
boats. Two more boats were secured bottom up upon a gallows aft, so
she seemed to be well supplied in that direction.
The weather being fine, with a steady northeast wind blowing, so that
the sails required no attention, work proceeded steadily all the
morning. The oars were sorted, examined for flaws, and placed in the
boats; the whale line, Manilla rope like yellow silk, an inch and a
half round, was brought on deck, stretched, and coiled down with the
greatest care into tubs holding, some two hundred fathoms, and others
one hundred fathoms each. New harpoons were fitted to poles of rough
but heavy wood, without any attempt at neatness but every attention to
strength. The shape of these weapons was not, as is generally thought,
that of an arrow, but rather like an arrow with one huge barb, the
upper part of which curved out from the shaft. The whole of the barb
turned on a stout pivot of steel, but was kept in line with the shaft
by a tiny wooden peg which passed through barb and shaft, being then
cut off smoothly on both sides. The point of the harpoon had at one
side a wedge-shaped edge, ground to razor keenness; the other side was
flat. The shaft, about thirty inches long, was of the best malleable
iron, so soft that it would tie into a knot and straighten out again
without fracture. Three harpoons, or "irons" as they were always
called, were placed in each boat, fitted one above the other in the
starboard bow, the first for use being always one unused before.
Opposite to them in the boat were fitted three lances for the purpose
of _killing_ whales, the harpoons being only the means by which the
boat was attached to a fish, and quite useless to inflict a fatal
wound. These lances were slender spears of malleable iron about four
feet long, with oval or heart-shaped points of fine steel about two
inches broad, their edges kept keen as a surgeon's lancet. By means of
a socket at the other end they were attached to neat handles, or
"lance poles," about as long again, the whole weapon being thus about
eight feet in length, and furnished with a light line, or "lance
warp," for the purpose of drawing it back again when it had been
darted at a whale. The other furniture of a boat comprised five oars
of varying lengths from sixteen to nine feet, one great steering oar
of nineteen feet, a mast and two sails of great area for so small a
craft, spritsail shape; two tubs of whale line containing together
eighteen hundred feet, a keg of drinking water, and another long,
narrow one with a few biscuits, a lantern, candles and matches
therein; a bucket and "piggin" for baling, a small spade, a flag or
"wheft," a shoulder bomb gun and ammunition, two knives, and two small
axes. A rudder hung outside by the stern.
With all this gear, although snugly stowed, a boat looked so loaded
that I could not help wondering how six men would be able to work in
her; but, like most "deep-water" sailors, I knew very little about
boating. I was going to learn.
The reports I had always heard of the laziness prevailing on board
whale ships were now abundantly falsified. From dawn to dark work went
on without cessation. Everything was rubbed and scrubbed and scoured
until no speck or soil could be found; indeed, no gentleman's yacht or
man-of-war is kept more spotlessly clean than was the Cachalot.
On the fourth day after leaving port we were all busy as usual except
the four men in the "crow's-nests," when a sudden cry of "Porps!
porps!" brought everything to a standstill. A large school of
porpoises had just joined us, in their usual clownish fashion, rolling
and tumbling around the bows as the old barky wallowed along,
surrounded by a wide ellipse of snowy foam. All work was instantly
suspended, and active preparations made for securing a few of these
frolicsome fellows. A "block," or pulley, was bung out at the bowsprit
end, a whale line passed through it and "bent" (fastened) on to a
harpoon. Another line with a running "bowline," or slip noose, was
also passed out to the bowsprit end, being held there by one man in
readiness. Then one of the harpooners ran out along the back ropes,
which keep the jib boom down, taking his stand beneath the bowsprit
with the harpoon ready. Presently he raised his iron and followed the
track of a rising porpoise with its point until the creature broke
water. At the same instant the weapon left his grasp, apparently
without any force behind it; but we on deck, holding the line, soon
found that our excited hauling lifted a big vibrating body clean out
of the smother beneath. "'Vast hauling!" shouted the mate, while, as
the porpoise hung dangling, the harpooner slipped the ready bowline
over his body, gently closing its grip round the "small" by the broad
tail. Then we hauled on the noose line, slacking away the harpoon, and
in a minute had our prize on deck. He was dragged away at once and the
operation repeated. Again and again we hauled them in, until the fore
part of the deck was alive with the kicking, writhing sea pigs, at
least twenty of them. All hands were soon busy skinning the blubber
from the bodies. Porpoises have no skin--that is, hide--the blubber or
coating of lard which incases them being covered by a black substance
as thin as tissue paper. The porpoise hide of the bootmaker is really
leather, made from the skin of the _Beluga_, or "white whale," which
is found only in the far north. The cover was removed from the
"try-works" amidships, revealing two gigantic pots set in a frame of
brickwork side by side, capable of holding two hundred gallons
each--such a cooking apparatus as might have graced a Brobdingnagian
kitchen. Beneath the pots was the very simplest of furnaces, hardly as
elaborate as the familiar copper hole sacred to washing day. Square
funnels of sheet iron were loosely fitted to the flues, more as a
protection against the oil boiling over into the fire than to carry
away the smoke, of which from the peculiar nature of the fuel there
was very little. At one side of the try-works was a large wooden
vessel, or "hopper," to contain the raw blubber; at the other, a
copper cistern or cooler of about three hundred gallons capacity, into
which the prepared oil was baled to cool off, preliminary to its being
poured into the casks. Beneath the furnaces was a space as large as
the whole area of the try-works, about a foot deep, which, when the
fires were lighted, was filled with water to prevent the deck from
burning.
It may be imagined that the blubber from our twenty porpoises made but
a poor show in one of the pots; nevertheless, we got a barrel of very
excellent oil from them. The fires were fed with "scrap," or pieces of
blubber from which the oil had been boiled, some of which had been
reserved from the previous voyage. They burned with a fierce and
steady blaze, leaving but a trace of ash. I was then informed by one
of the harpooners that no other fuel was ever used for boiling blubber
at any time, there being always amply sufficient for the purpose.
We were now in the haunts of the sperm whale, or "cachalot," a
brilliant lookout being continually kept for any signs of their
appearing. One officer and a foremast hand were continually on watch
during the day in the main crow's-nest, one harpooner and a seaman in
the fore one. A bounty of ten pounds of tobacco was offered to whoever
should first report a whale, should it be secured; consequently there
were no sleepy eyes up there.
At last, one beautiful day, the boats were lowered and manned, and
away went the greenies on their first practical lesson in the business
of the voyage. There were two greenies in each boat, they being so
arranged that whenever one of them "caught a crab," which of course
was about every other stroke, his failure made little difference to
the boat's progress. They learned very fast under the terrible
imprecations and storm of blows from the iron-fisted and iron-hearted
officers, so that before the day was out the skipper was satisfied of
our ability to deal with a "fish" should he be lucky enough to "raise"
one. I was, in virtue of my experience, placed at the after oar in the
mate's boat, where it was my duty to attend to the "main sheet" when
the sail was set, where also I had the benefit of the lightest oar
except the small one used by the harpooner in the bow.
The very next day after our first exhaustive boat drill, a school of
"blackfish" was reported from aloft, and with great glee the officers
prepared for what they considered a rattling day's fun.
The blackfish (_Phocæna sp._) is a small toothed whale, not at all
unlike a miniature cachalot, except that its head is rounded at the
front, while its jaw is not long and straight, but bowed. It is as
frolicsome as the porpoise, gamboling about in schools of from twenty
to fifty or more, as if really delighted to be alive. Its average size
is from ten to twenty feet long and seven or eight feet in girth;
weight, from one to three tons. Blubber about three inches thick,
while the head is almost all oil, so that a good rich specimen will
make between one and two barrels of oil of medium quality.
We lowered and left the ship, pulling right toward the school, the
noise they were making in their fun effectually preventing them from
hearing our approach. It is etiquette to allow the mate's boat first
place, unless his crew is so weak as to be unable to hold their own;
but as the mate always has first pick of the men this seldom happens.
So, as usual, we were first, and soon I heard the order given, "Stand
up, Louey, and let 'em have it!" Sure enough, here we were right
among them. Louis let drive, "fastening" a whopper about twenty feet
long. The injured animal plunged madly forward, accompanied by his
fellows, while Louis calmly bent another iron to a "short warp," or
piece of whale line, the loose end of which he made a bowline with
round the main line which was fast to the "fish." Then he fastened
another "fish," and the queer sight was seen of these two monsters
each trying to flee in opposite directions, while the second one
ranged about alarmingly as his "bridle" ran along the main line.
Another one was secured in the same way, then the game was indeed
great. The school had by this time taken the alarm and cleared out,
but the other boats were all fast to fish, so that didn't matter. Now,
at the rate our "game" were going, it would evidently be a long while
before they died, although, being so much smaller than a whale proper,
a harpoon will often kill them at a stroke. Yet they were now so
tangled or "snarled erp," as the mate said, that it was no easy matter
to lance them without great danger of cutting the line. However, we
hauled up as close to them as we dared, and the harpooner got a good
blow in, which gave the biggest of the three "Jesse," as he said,
though why "Jesse" was a stumper. Anyhow, it killed him promptly,
while almost directly after another one saved further trouble by
passing in his own checks. But he sank at the same time, drawing the
first one down with him, so that we were in considerable danger of
having to cut them adrift or be swamped. The "wheft" was waved thrice
as an urgent signal to the ship to come to our assistance with all
speed, but in the meantime our interest lay in the surviving blackfish
keeping alive. Should _he_ die and, as was most probable, sink, we
should certainly have to cut and loose the lot, tools included.
We waited in grim silence while the ship came up, so slowly,
apparently, that she hardly seemed to move, but really at a good pace
of about four knots an hour, which for her was not at all bad. She got
alongside of us at last, and we passed up the bight of our line, our
fish all safe, very much pleased with ourselves, especially when we
found that the other boats had only five between the three of them.
Chain slings were passed around the carcasses, the end of the "fall,"
or tackle rope, was taken to the windlass, and we hove away cheerily,
lifting the monsters right on deck. A mountainous pile they made.
After dinner all hands turned to again to "flench" the blubber and
prepare for trying out. This was a heavy job, keeping us busy until it
was quite dark, the latter part of the work being carried on by the
light of a "cresset," the flames of which were fed with "scrap," which
blazed brilliantly, throwing a big glare over all the ship. The last
of the carcasses was launched overboard by about eight o'clock that
evening, but not before some vast junks of beef had been cut off and
hung up in the rigging for our food supply.
"Trying out" went on busily all night, and by nightfall of the next
day the ship had resumed her normal appearance, and we were a tun and
a quarter of oil to the good. Blackfish oil is of medium quality, but
I learned that, according to the rule of "roguery in all trades," it
was the custom to mix quantities such as we had just obtained with
better class whale oil, and thus get a much higher price than it was
really worth.
We had now been eight days out, having had nothing, so far, but steady
breezes and fine weather. As it was late autumn--the first week in
October--I rather wondered at this, for even in my brief experience I
had learned to dread a "fall" voyage across the "Western Ocean."
Gradually the face of the sky changed, and the feel of the air, from
balmy and genial, became raw and cheerless. The little wave tops broke
short off and blew backward, apparently against the wind, while the
old vessel had an uneasy, unnatural motion, caused by a long, new
swell rolling athwart the existing set of the sea.
We were evidently in for a fair specimen of Western Ocean weather, but
the clumsy-looking, old-fashioned Cachalot made no more fuss over it
than one of the long-winged sea birds that floated around, intent only
upon snapping up any stray scraps that might escape from us. Higher
rose the wind, heavier rolled the sea, yet never a drop of water did
we ship, nor did anything about the deck betoken what a heavy gale was
blowing. During the worst of the weather, and just after the wind had
shifted back into the northeast, making an uglier cross sea than ever
get up, along comes an immense four-masted iron ship homeward bound.
She was staggering under a veritable mountain of canvas, fairly
burying her bows in the foam at every forward drive, and actually
wetting the clews of the upper topsails in the smothering masses of
spray, that every few minutes almost hid her hull from sight.
It was a splendid picture; but--for the time--I felt glad I was not on
board of her. In a very few minutes she was out of our ken, followed
by the admiration of all. Then came, from the other direction, a huge
steamship, taking no more notice of the gale than as if it were calm.
Straight through the sea she rushed, dividing the mighty rollers to
the heart, and often bestriding three seas at once, the center one
spreading its many tons of foaming water fore and aft, so that from
every orifice spouted the seething brine. Compared with these
greyhounds of the wave, we resembled nothing so much as some old
lightship bobbing serenely around, as if part and parcel of the
mid-Atlantic.
The gale gradually blew itself out, leaving behind only a long and
very heavy swell to denote the deep-reaching disturbance that the
ocean had endured. And now we were within the range of the sargasso
weed, that mysterious _fucus_ that makes the ocean look like some vast
hayfield, and keeps the sea from rising, no matter how high the wind.
It fell a dead calm, and the harpooners amused themselves by dredging
up great masses of the weed, and turning out the many strange
creatures abiding therein.
We were all gathered about the fo'lk'sle scuttle one evening, a few
days after the gale referred to above, and the question of
whale-fishing came up for discussion. Until that time, strange as it
may seem, no word of this, the central idea of all our minds, had been
mooted. Every man seemed to shun the subject, although we were in
daily expectation of being called upon to take an active part in
whale-fighting. Once the ice was broken, nearly all had something to
say about it, and very nearly as many addle-headed opinions were
ventilated as at a Colney Hatch debating society. For we none of us
_knew_ anything about it. It was Saturday evening, and while at home
people were looking forward to a day's respite from work and care, I
felt that the coming day, though never taken much notice of on board,
was big with the probabilities of strife such as I at least had at
present no idea of--so firmly was I possessed by the prevailing
feeling.
The night was very quiet. A gentle breeze was blowing, and the sky was
of the usual "trade" character--that is, a dome of dark blue fringed
at the horizon with peaceful cumulus clouds, almost motionless. I
turned in at 4 A. M. from the middle watch and, as usual, slept like a
babe. Suddenly I started wide awake, a long, mournful sound sending a
thrill to my very heart. As I listened breathlessly, other sounds of
the same character but in different tones joined in, human voices
monotonously intoning in long-drawn-out expirations the single word
"bl-o-o-o-ow." Then came a hurricane of noise overhead, and
adjurations in no gentle language to the sleepers to "tumble up lively
there, no skulking, sperm whales." At last, then, fulfilling all the
presentiments of yesterday, the long-dreaded moment had arrived.
Happily, there was no time for hesitation; in less than two minutes we
were all on deck, and hurrying to our respective boats. The skipper
was in the main crow's-nest with his binoculars. Presently he shouted:
"Naow then, Mr. Count, lower away soon's y'like. Small pod o' cows,
an' one 'r two bulls layin' off to west'ard of 'em." Down went the
boats into the water quietly enough; we all scrambled in and shoved
off. A stroke or two of the oars were given to get clear of the ship
and one another, then oars were shipped and up went the sails. As I
took my allotted place at the main-sheet, and the beautiful craft
started off like some big bird, Mr. Count leaned forward, saying
impressively to me: "Y'r a smart youngster, an' I've kinder took
t'yer; but don't ye look ahead an' get gallied, 'r I'll knock ye
stiff wi' th' tiller; y'hear me? N' don't ye dare to make thet sheet
fast, 'r ye'll die so sudden y' won't know whar y'r hurted." I said as
cheerfully as I could, "All right, sir," trying to look unconcerned,
telling myself not to be a coward, and all sorts of things; but the
cold truth is that I was scared almost to death, because I didn't know
what was coming. However, I did the best thing under the
circumstances, obeyed orders and looked steadily astern, or up into
the bronzed impassive face of my chief, who towered above me, scanning
with eagle eyes the sea ahead. The other boats were coming flying
along behind us, spreading wider apart as they came, while in the bows
of each stood the harpooner with his right hand on his first iron,
which lay ready, pointing over the bow in a raised fork of wood called
the "crutch."