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Gift of 

Richard H. Backus 

March, 1988 

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Woods Hc!e C 

qr..phic Institution 


Whale Hunters 

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Whale Hunters 

Written and Illustrated 

Geoffrey Whittam 



The World Publishing Company 

Li8 K/' r. •( 

ViOODS HO'.:. tf.ASS. 

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Library of Congress Catalog Card Number: 55-7575 


Copyright © 1955 by The World Publishing Company. All 
rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in 
any form without written permission from the publisher, ex- 
cept for brief passages included in a review appearing in a 
newspaper or magazine. Manufactured in the United States 
of America. 




I CANNOT REMEMBER whcn the idea for this book first 
started. Perhaps the seed was sown when, as a boy, I 
listened to the salty tales of my now long-departed sea- 
faring uncles, or browsed in wonder over their old prints 
of sailors, ships and seaports in far-off lands, or in my day- 
dreams saw the bone ship model in the glass case on my 
grandfather's bureau come to life and fly with full- 
bosomed sail over a rolling blue ocean. 

It was years later, when I was a student at an art school, 
that the seed of the idea germinated. It first peeped 
through the sparse soil of my imagination in the form of a 
classroom exercise when each of us was asked to produce a 
specimen picture book on a subject of our own choice. I 
chose whaling, a subject which had always seemed to me 
the most fascinating of sea-lore ; and it was then that I 
realised that, colourful though they might be, my boyish 
mental pictures were very blurred in their outlines and 
would have to be clarified and sharpened with the aid of 

From then on, the book, like Topsy, just growed. The 
captions to the pictures developed into tales and the 
whalemen, the whaleships and even the whales began to 
take on character. The pictures themselves began to 
flow in black ink and crystallise on white paper. 

Eventually the book resolved itself into three parts, each 
set in a different period during the past three-hundred- 
odd years. It tells of some of the adventures of widely 
separated generations of a family of whalemen. It tells 
too something of an even greater adventure story — the 
story of whaling. 

The massive whale factory ship of modern times, fed 
with whales by her fleet of fast catchers equipped with 
lethal harpoon guns, is a far cry from those early times 


when men went forth in frail craft to kill the Leviathans 
by hand with spears and harpoons. 

I cannot pretend to tell the whole story that links modern 
whaling with its humble but adventurous beginnings : but 
if I have succeeded in helping the reader to visualise it in 
broad outUne as well as entertaining him at the same time, 
then I shall know that the writing and illustrating of this 
book has been worthwhile. 

Geoffrey Whittam 





Arrival at Nantucket 



The Innkeeper and his Wife 



The Whales along the Shore 



The Diary 



Jonathan finds a Berth 



On Passage 



^She Blows 1' 



The Elusive Bowhead 



The Ship Imprisoned 



The Rescue 



The Dutch Whalers 



The English Whalers 




The Yankee Whaler 



Across the Indian Ocean 



Sperm Whale 



1 6 * Cutting in' and *Trying out' 133 

17 Into the Pacific 138 

18 Stove Boats and Dead Whales 144 

19 Homeward Bound 154 


20 The Old Oaken Chest 159 

21 Steel Ships and Helicopters 169 

Part One : Jonathan 


Arrival at Nantucket 

IN THE LATE aftemoon of an early spring day in the year 
1 73 1 a trading sloop of some thirty tons entered the 
harbour of Nantucket in Nantucket Island, New England. 
Somewhere to the eastward of Cape Cod a few hours 
before, she had emerged from a bank of fog and had 
found a ship's boat, full of starved and half-frozen sur- 
vivors from the wreck of the English brig Jane Seymour, 
The brig, which had sailed from Bideford, Devon, with 
a cargo of immigrants, had been bound full of hope for 
Plymouth, New England. Now she lay along with two 
thirds of her passengers and crew fathoms deep under the 
grey Atlantic. 

Among the wretched little crowd huddled together 
on the deck of the sloop was a boy of twelve years. He 
clutched a blanket to his thin, shivering body and his 
fair hair hung in salt-matted strands. 

As the sloop approached the harbour bar he rose to his 
feet and moved unsteadily to the lee bulwarks, where he 
stood bracing himself with one hand on the rigging. He 
was tall for his years, and even his present bedraggled 
state could not hide that he was a lad of good breeding. 

His sad blue eyes surveyed the long flat shorehne of the 
island, and the scene did nothing to revive his numbed 
spirit. The endless beaches of sand were backed by low. 


undulating land that could boast of nothing approaching 
a hill like those of his native Somerset, and the stunted, 
weather-bent trees seemed to cling tenaciously to the soil, 
where they grew in the few wooded areas. Tall tripods 
of spars stood along the shore at wide but regular intervals. 
These and the masts of the vessels in the harbour were the 
only rehef to the low, horizontal lines of the scene. Other 
details revealed themselves as the sloop crossed the bar. 
At the head of the lagoon-like harbour a wooden wharf on 
spindly piles reached out over the shallow water and, 
clustered behind it, was a collection of odd-looking 
wooden buildings with thatched roofs, which were the 
humble dwellings of the inhabitants. On either side of 
the wharf were rough slipways with small, squat vessels 
propped on shore-legs, and several other vessels of this type 
lay at the moorings in the harbour. 

'Down jib!' cried the captain. Then, 'Down mains'l!' 
as the sloop came up into the wind, and in a few moments 
she was secure alongside the wharf. 

The island folk, many of whom were of pure Indian 
stock, flocked around the gangplank curious to see what 
cargo the trading packet had brought them. Above the 
hubbub of many voices the boy could hear that of the first 
mate addressing the bewildered little group of survivors. 

'The ship will be away on this same tide,' he was 
shouting, 'and I advise those among you who wish to 
sail with us to the mainland ports to be on this vessel's 
deck within two hours from now. Those of you who are 
absent I shall deem to have discovered some hospitality 
here and to be content to stay.' 

Only those who were standing very near him heard 
him add in lower tones, 'There are better places than this 
to seek your fortune, but please yourselves.' 

The boy looked again at the flat landscape and was 
inclined at first to agree with the mate. 

The island of Nantucket, which at this period in history 

Z)he inland folk flocked 
around ike gangplank 


was known as Sherburne, is really a huge sandbank 
reaching out like a beckoning arm from the east coast of 
the North American continent. Its area is about fifty 
square miles. Among the low, sandy hillocks of its 
central parts are pools and marshes of both fresh and salt 
water and, as in the Romney marshes of England, you 
feel that the sea is always with you. The salt winds sweep 
across the flat pastures of beach grass, the cry of seabirds 
and the distant roar of the surf are always in your ear 
and you know that this island belongs in its nature, not to 
the great continent to the westward, but to the Atlantic 
Ocean; and you wonder as you look upon the frailty of its 
structure how, in the course of its precarious existence, it 
has withstood the fury of the mighty ocean that embraces 
it. You wonder, too, how the Nantucketers have wrought 
a livelihood from such a barren island until you learn that 
it is the sea itself which has been the green pastures of 

Long before the first white settlers arrived Indians 
lived there and caught mackerel and cod from their frail 
bark canoes. When whales came close to the shore they 
went forth in full force and by means of long drawn 
harassing tactics they wore these Leviathans down until 
they were able to kill them with spears. They ate the 
flesh and boiled the oil from the blubber. The sea 
provided them with the greater part of their livelihood 
but the land was also a source of food, for at that time the 
island was wooded and the soil fertile. Then the white 
men came. They needed timber for houses, for boats 
and fuel, and in the areas where trees were felled the soil 
was no longer fertilised by their fallen leaves nor protected 
by them from the fierce sea winds, so that its productivity 
waned and the Nantucketers, white and red alike, became 
more and more dependent upon the harvests from the 
sea. The settlers built boats that were much more 
seaworthy than the Indian canoes and made an industry 


out of the catching of fish. Then they found a whale in 
one of the harbours and kept it imprisoned there until 
their blacksmith had fashioned a crude harpoon. Promp- 
ted by the Indians they harassed and killed it, and sold the 
oil which they extracted from its overcoat of blubber. 
Other whales were killed and the oil extracted. With all 
their Quaker instincts for grasping new opportunities they 
were quick to realise that here was a commodity that 
could win them their daily bread. True, neighbouring 
islands such as Martha's Vineyard and Long Island and 
places such as Cape Cod and New Bedford were a step 
ahead now and then; but whaling was to be their staple 
industry, of that they were sure, and they pursued it with 
all the vigour of their pioneering natures. 

At first they were content to catch whales from boats 
launched from their island beaches. Then, as the world 
demand for whale oil increased and they found that the 
seas beyond their shores appeared to possess a limitless 
stock of whales, they built small sloops and took them 
into the deeper waters of the Atlantic. These sloops 
were only of thirty or forty tons burden at first and they 
carried only two whale boats, one of which was a spare. 

Such was the island upon which the boy gazed as he 
wondered whether to entrust himself to its hospitality, if 
indeed there was any to be found there. Perhaps the 
mate was right, perhaps the mainland would offer some 
place better than this. Yet somehow the very bleakness 
of the scene seemed in harmony with his present mood. 

T will see what it is like,' he told himself and descended 
the gangplank. 


The Innkeeper and 
His Wife 

THE BOY WALKED along the wharf to where a rough track 
led to the waterfront. He noticed that the walls of the 
houses were mostly constructed of logs and that in 
practically every case there was at the summit of the 
thatched roof a sort of balcony, the reason for which he 
was to discover later. 

Coming to a house bearing a small sign on which was a 
picture of a spouting whale and the inscription, Black 
Whale Inne, he stopped and looked around towards the 
wharf He seemed to be the only one of the survivors 


who had ventured this far from the ship and this appeared 
to be the only inn along the single row of buildings. He 
wondered how he would be received if he entered and 
asked for shelter. 

As he stood there shivering and trying to choose 
between pushing open the door or retracing his steps 
and rejoining the ship, a man's head appeared at one of 
the open windows above the inn sign. 

'Bless me, but look what the sea has washed up!' the 
man exclaimed and turning his head inwards towards the 
room he called, 'Come and see, Mrs. Mather,' whereupon 
two pairs of curious eyes stared down at the boy. 

'Why the poor mite is shivering with the cold,' exclaimed 
the woman. 'Come in,' she called to the boy, 'come in 
and we will give you a bowl of hot soup.' 

The boy pushed open the door and met the woman 
hurrying down the stairs, followed by her husband. She 
was a short round motherly type with a rosy shining face 
and a great mass of grey hair drawn tightly to the top of 
her head on which rested a small white lace cap. 

'Without doubt, you must be one of those rescued by 
the packet that has just come in,' she said. 

The boy nodded. 'Yes, Ma'am.' 

'And what is your name?' 

'Jonathan. Jonathan Oakley,' he replied. 

'Come to the fire in the parlour,' she said, putting an 
arm round his slim shoulders and then, feeling the damp- 
ness of the blanket that he still wore, she thrust her other 
hand beneath its folds. 

'Bless me, your clothes are still wet,' she cried. 'That 
good-for-nothing trading master ought to be flogged 
letting you come ashore in such a state. Off with them 
at once and I'll rummage out some of our Joseph's for 

Jonathan assumed that Joseph must be the son of these 
kindly people and if the measurements of his clothes are 


any guide, thought Jonathan, as he donned homespun 
breeches and doublet several sizes too large for his boyish 
frame, he must be quite a big fellow; but he was grateful 
for the warmth they brought to his body. 

As he crouched over the fire warming his hands, Mrs. 
Mather entered with a bowl of steaming soup which she 
set on a wooden stool by his side. 

'There, Jonathan boy, drink that and you'll feel better,' 
she said, *and when you've finished that you might like a 
slice of baked cod. If you want me you'll find me in the 
kitchen at the end of the passage. But here is Mr. 
Mather with a jug of ale.' 

As she left the room she added, 'You'll have to grow a 
bit yet to fill out those clothes of Joseph's.' 

Mr. Mather put the jug of ale on the flagstones of the 
fireplace and seated himself opposite the boy in a large 
rocking chair. He was a large robust man with a face 
even more pink than his wife's. A small periwig sat 
precariously on his bald head. 

'Is the soup to your liking?' he asked. 

'It is indeed welcome, sir,' replied Jonathan. 'But, but 
I am unable to pay you, sir,' he stammered. 'I have no 
money. I had forgotten that I lost everything when the 
ship went down.' 

He put the soup bowl on the table and stood there 
confused and embarrassed. 

'Sit down, my son, and do not trouble your mind with 
such thoughts,' said the landlord and there was a kindness 
in his tone that was intended to reassure the boy. 'It is 
but a small thing, a meal and a board for a shipwrecked 

'But I am no true mariner,' said Jonathan, 'I am, or 
was a passenger from England. I was travelling with 

my father and mother when the ' His gaze wandered 

to the fire and he swallowed hard to stifle the clutching 
sensation in his throat. A tear trickled down his cheek 


and he wiped it away with the surplus end of Joseph's 

Blinking his moist eyes he turned again to the landlord. 
*If, if I am to accept your hospitality I promise you, sir, 
that I will seek to repay it at the first opportunity. I shall 
find work of some kind and shall not always be without a 
silver piece in my purse.' 

The landlord looked into the boy's face and his eyes 
narrowed so that the crowsfoot wrinkles reached nearly to 
his large ears. He said, 'I can see that you come from a 
God-fearing home, my son, and I like your honest ways of 
thinking. You can stay here as long as you wish and if 
your conscience worries you you can relieve it by helping 
Mrs. Mather and me. There are the pigs and the fowls 
and the cow as well as the running of the inn, unless, of 
course, you feel like seeking a berth in one of the ships.' 

Further discussion of Jonathan's future was interrupted 
by the entry of Mrs. Mather carrying a plate of baked 

'Don't let the boy sit there starving, Mr. Mather,' she 
scolded. 'See that he fills that empty stomach of his, 
poor boy.' 

After this warning Mr. Mather called out to his wife 
each time the boy's plate became empty. Another helping 
of cod was followed by a plate of cold salt pork, then some 
bread and cheese and finally the jug of ale to wash it all 
down. For the first time in several days Jonathan was no 
longer hungry; only very, very tired. Through half- 
closed eyes he saw Mr. Mather clearing away the dishes 
and then, lying back in the wooden armchair, he was fast 

When he awoke daylight had gone and the parlour was 
in candlelight. Opposite him Mr. Mather was seated by 
the fire smoking a long churchwarden pipe. Jonathan 
blinked his sleepy eyes and looked towards the darkened 


*Yes, son, she has sailed,' said Mr. Mather, reading his 

Somehow Jonathan was not sorry ; he had had his fill of 
sea voyaging for the time being. Refreshed by his sleep, 
short though it had been, and no longer burdened by 
indecision, he felt in much better spirits. 

'Mr. Mather,' he said, rather solemnly, 'I would like to 
accept your offer of employment, if it is still open. I am 
quite ignorant of the business of innkeeping but I promise 
you I will try to learn it and be of service to you.' 

The man smiled at the boy's serious face and formality 
of manner. 

'I shall be pleased to have you help me, my son,' said 
Mr. Mather, 'but to-night you are my guest, so be at your 
ease. To-night you'll sleep in a warm bed and to- 
morrow will be time enough to talk of toil.' 

The next day Mrs. Mather insisted that Jonathan did 
no work because in her own words 'his poor skinny body 
needed nourishing first.' So he spent the day exploring 
the inn and the small farm that the Mathers ran. At 
suppertime he sat at the table in the parlour with two 
sailors. One of them was a ruffianly looking man with a 
great mass of whiskers. All three ate their meal in silence 
but when it was finished the boy's tongue was the first to 

'What sort of ships do you sail in, sir?' he asked of the 
sailor with the black whiskers. 

'Whalers mostly,' replied the man. 

'And what do the people of this island do?' 

The man looked surprised. 'What do they do, he asks. 
What do they do? Why, in a place such as Sherburne 
there ain't nothing else a man can do but catch fish and 
sell it if he can. There's a bit of Indian trading to be had 
but that ain't much.' 

'Are there plenty of fish on these shores?' asked 


Tlenty, and big ones too; biggest there is in the sea/ 
rephed the man. 

The other sailor, a young fellow in his twenties, spoke 
for the first time. 

*If you speak of whales — and I believe you do — would 
it not be better to acquaint the boy with the differences 
between them and the ordinary fishes Hke cod and 
mackerel ?' he said with civility. 

* 'Old your tongue, young whippersnapper,' growled 
Blackwhiskers. *I was 'untin' whales on these shores 
before you were born and I tell you sure as the Devil, the 
whale's a fish like all others and there ain't another man 
in Sherburne 'Id say different.' 

*And that, Nathan Sykes, is where you are as far adrift 
as a pig in mid- Atlantic,' boomed the voice of Mr. Mather 
as he entered the parlour. T would for one. Take no heed 
of his talk, lads, except when he says that there are many 
as ignorant of God's works as himself 

Nathaniel Sykes rose to his feet and his face, where it 
was not covered by his whiskers, went red with anger. He 
tried to speak but words failed him and he stalked to the 
door and disappeared into the passage muttering. 

Mr. Mather turned to the young sailor. 'Be cautious 
of that man, sailor. He makes a bad enemy to those 
that cross him.' 

*He seems to have much influence with the Indians,' 
said the sailor. 

'Yes,' replied Mr. Mather, 'but only by reason of the 
fire-water that he takes to their villages. The red man is 
strong enough in the bow of a boat with a harping iron 
in his hand, but give him a sniff of Nathan's nectar and 
he's no more will than a babe in arms.' He lifted his 
wig and scratched his bald pate. 'And there is precious 
little that Godfearing folk can do to stop it.' 

The sailor rose to take his leave. 'It is good,' he said, 
*to meet an older man who shares my beliefs about the 


nature of the whale. My ship sails on the tide but when 
she returns I hope we shall be able to discuss the matter 
more fully.' 

*Good hunting, sailor/ said Mr. Mather as the young 
man went on his way. 

'That's what I like about keeping an inn,' he said 
turning to Jonathan, 'you meet all types of men, good 
and bad.' 

'But how is it, sir?' asked Jonathan, 'that you, an 
innkeeper and farmer, know about these strange creatures 
of the sea?' 

'On this island, Jonathan, whales are as much part of 
our livelihood as innkeeping, tilling the poor soil or raising 
hogs, sheep and cattle. I am too old to chase whales now 
but I still watch them being brought to the shores and 
stripped of their blubber. In my youth before I came to 
the new country I sailed with the big English whalers to 
Spitzbergen and Jan Mayen.' 

'And what is it that distinguishes whales from other 
fishes?' asked Jonathan. 

Mr. Mather reached for one of the churchwarden pipes 
over the fireplace and tucked the bowl in his doublet 
whilst he carved some flakes from a plug of dark tobacco. 
He was not sure, as we are to-day, that whales are 
mammals but he had observed many things about them 
that seemed in strange discord with their fish-like shape. 

'There are several differences, my son,' he said, puffing 
up clouds of smoke. 'I think the first thing you would 
notice would be the tail. A whale's is flat like the top of 
the sea but the tail of an ordinary fish is up and down like 
the rudder of a ship. A whale breathes the atmosphere 
through a hole in the top of his head and must refresh his 
lungs by coming to the surface frequently but an ordinary 
fish has no lungs and seems to be quite content to pass 
water through its gills. In short you'll never find a whale 
with gills. There's another thing too; a whale bears its 


babes the same as do any of the sows in my yard, save 
that it only has one or two at a time; and the mother 
suckles its young as they float together just below the 
surface; other fishes, with the one exception of sharks 
which also bear their young, spawn their eggs all over the 
sea and take no interest in the fate of their offspring. And 
when you feel the flesh of a fresh killed whale it is warm 
like that of an ox, but other fish are cold through and 
through when you take them from the sea. It is the 
whale's blubber that keeps out the cold of the sea and it 
covers him all over like a thick blanket. It is the reason 
why men kill the whale for from it comes the oil which 
is so precious.' 

Mr. Mather puffed at his pipe in silence for a while. 
Then he said, 'There are many different kinds of whales 
you know, son. Those within my experience I have 
always been able to separate into two families; the first 
with teeth which includes the big spermaceti and smaller 
ones like the killer, the bottlenose, the white whale and the 
narwhal and all the small dolphins; and the second 
without teeth but having curtains of bone which we call 
fins hanging from their upper jaws; of this family there is 
the black right whale which you may see off our own 
shores, and there is the Greenland right whale that the 
Dutch and the English seek in the northern seas; there is 
the humpback that loves to frolic close to the shore and 
many others of this family. But the biggest of all whales 
is still stranger to me for he was always too fast for any 
boat that I was in, though I've heard tales of him being 
found stranded and measuring over a hundred feet in 
length. The oceans are wide and there are many I have 
not sailed and only the Lord knows what wonders are to 
be found there.' 

*In truth, Mr. Mather,' said Jonathan, 'this business of 
whaHng is a big subject and you make me wish I knew 
more of it. Until now my knowledge of whales had 

jkcre are ■many species oftke Cetaceco order of mammals, knoum 
as Whales. Ikese are the ones mentioned in ih's bookJkeu <^ 


include all the hnpcriani cms hicnied for commercial pur- 
poses, both past (xn^ present & axe divided mio two ^ah- orders. 

^^4^^^^ ^^<:^l:^ 


not reached beyond the story in the Holy Bible. What 
kind of whale would you say it was that swallowed 

*Might have been a spermaceti, son. He feeds on big 
cuttlefish and has a bigger gullet than any other. It 
could not have been a killer because, though he might 
make a meal off any man that might be so foolish as to 
offer himself, he is too small in the gullet. And it most 
certainly was not one of the whales with fins in their 
mouths for they feed only on very small creatures like 
shrimps. It is a terrible thing to see one of them coming 
towards you with his cavernous jaws wide agape, scooping 
up his victuals off the sea's surface, and though you'd 
think at the time that he could swallow you and your boat 
at one gulp his gullet is made very small. All these 
whalebone whales can take into their mouths tons of 
water at a time and the whalebone curtains hanging 
from their jaws act like big shrimp nets. The water is 
forced out at the sides of their mouths and the small 
creatures are left inside for them to swallow. That is 
why their gullets are so small.' 

Mr. Mather's pipe had gone out and he lit it with a 
spill from the fire. 

*If it was not a spermaceti that swallowed Jonah,' he 
said, 'then it must have been some whale of which I am 

Jonathan was trying hard to digest all this information. 
He had not expected Mr. Mather to give his simple 
question such deep consideration. 

*I think,' he said, 'that I shall have to see all these 
things for myself before I can fully understand them.' 

'You'll see much,' said the innkeeper, 'just by taking a 
walk around the shores of this island. But now it is time 
you were in bed.' 


The Whales 
Along the Shore 

so JONATHAN worked at the inn and learned his various 
tasks with a rapidity that both amazed and pleased Mr. 
Mather and his good wife. They were more than ever 
amazed to find that Jonathan could read and write, a thing 
so rare among the boys in the colonies. His father had 
been a notary and had educated his only son as well as 
his means had permitted. It had been in the capacity of 


a lesser envoy of George II that Mr. Oakley had left 
England for the colony of New England. He had not 
been a wealthy man but what little he had possessed had 
gone down with the ill-fated Jane Seymour, for the Oakleys 
had anticipated a long stay in New England, his appoint- 
ment having been of a permanent nature, and they had 
taken with them all their worldly belongings. Jonathan's 
sole inheritance from his father was the education he had 
received; but that, in a lad of mettle, is more than the 
value of silver and gold, as Jonathan found when later he 
grew to manhood. 

In addition to feeding the livestock and helping in the 
inn he was able to relieve Mr. Mather of the task of keep- 
ing the accounts and was kept so occupied with one 
thing and another that he had little time to grieve about 
the past or to worry about the future. As the weeks 
passed he quickly regained the weight he had lost and Mrs. 
Mather was as proud of him as if he had been her own 
son. Joseph, her youngest son, she told him, was away 
on the other side of the island hunting the whale, and the 
three older boys were in whaleships somewhere in the 

One fine spring morning as the sun peeped through the 
sea mist Jonathan slung a satchel of food over his shoulder 
and waving farewell to Mr. and Mrs. Mather at the door 
of the inn he set out across the island for the south-east 
coast to find the whaling camp where he knew that 
Joseph Mather was employed and to see for himself the way 
in which whales were hunted from the shore. Stepping 
out at good speed he followed the low ridges of sparse 
pasture that encircled the marshes and after a few hours 
came in sight of the tall lookout spars that stretched 
at intervals of several miles along the coast ahead of 

It was still not yet noon when he sighted the cluster of 
huts and trying-out ovens. He quickened his pace to 


shorten the distance but he was still a quarter of a mile 
away when he stopped suddenly and Hstened. 

From the man on the lookout spar came an oft repeated 

'Town ho! Town ho! They blow, they blow!' 

It was the call that was to echo again and again through 
the coming years of Jonathan's life, the whaleman's call to 
action that in other versions Ottar the voyager had heard 
in King Alfred's time, that the Basques had heard along 
the Biscay shores in the twelfth century and the Dutch, 
German and English whalemen had heard in the bays of 
Spitzbergen for several hundred years. 

It was the cry that the islanders used on first sighting 
the whale to call out the whalemen from their towns, 
villages and camps and which in later decades of American 
deep-sea whalers was to change to the well-known cry of 
There She Blows!' 

Jonathan's gaze followed the direction of the lookout's 
pointing arm. From his position on the summit of the 
dune he had a clear view of the sea but for a moment he 
saw nothing but the white specks of a flock of seabirds 
wheeling over the Atlantic rollers. Then his sharp eyes 
caught sight of a crystal white fountain that lingered over 
the sea and then dissolved itself into the sunlit atmos- 
phere; again within several seconds the white fountain 
shot upwards. It came from the head of a whale which 
now emerged from the water to reveal its black shining 
back. He saw more spouts of white vapour as other 
whales came to the surface to replenish their lungs with 
fresh air and he knew from the things that Mr. Mather 
had told him that this was a pod of black right whales. 

In response to the cry of the lookout the camp came 
suddenly to life. White men and Indians came hurrying 
from the huts carrying lances, harpoons and other equip- 
ment which they tossed into the four slender, canoe-like 
boats that lay on the beach. Each boat was launched 


through the surf by six men. Jonathan thrilled at the 
manner in which their bows lifted to the crashing seas as 
the oarsmen fought to make the blades of their oars bite 
the white water. With men baling out the water that 
had washed into them the boats reached the smoother 
water clear of the surf and then with their sails filling to 
the south breeze they steered towards the spouting whales. 

Jonathan ran to the foot of the lookout spar which stood 
on a high dune overlooking the camp. 

'You will see the sport more easily from up here,' 
called the lookout from his tiny platform, as he hoisted 
a signal flag on a short mast. 'Come up here and we'll 
watch the fun together.' 

Jonathan climbed up and seated himself next to a 
skinny youth in his teens who wore a broad straw hat to 
shade his eyes from the sun. 

'You are not by chance one called Joseph Mather?' 
asked Jonathan. 

'No, stranger, I am Ebenezer Small. Joseph is in one 
of the boats out there where I would be if they had not 
sent me up this spar. That is Joseph's boat coming up 
to the whale now with our Master Jackson at the steering 
oar. And that is Chimoo pulling the bow oar. He's the 
finest harpinger in all New England.' 

He put a large telescope to his eye. 'Stand up! 
Stand up, you red devil. Not too near those flukes or 
they'll stove your boat, Master Jackson,' he howled in 
anguished tones. 'Stand up, stand up, Chimoo, or she'll 
sound before you can strike.' 

He gasped with impatience. 'Here, you take a spy 
through this glass, lad, for I cannot bear to watch longer.' 

Jonathan looked through the long telescope and as if in 
response to Ebenezer's imploring words the tall figure 
with feathered head-dress shipped his oar and stood like a 
bronze statue with harpoon lifted high. The long brown 
arm flashed and the harpoon flew through the air, its 


line uncoiling from the bows and taking with it a cumber- 
some wooden drogue that the Indian threw over the side. 

'The spyglass, quick,' said Ebenezer and clasped it to 
his eye. 'See, he sinks another iron and the other boats 
close in; but there go flukes; the whale sounds and they'll 
have to wait a while now before they can sink others.' 

'More boats are coming from the north,' observed 

'You are right, lad. They have seen my signal and 
are joining the hunt.' 

The principle adopted by these shore whalemen was 
based on the long drawn harassing tactics that the 
Indians used against whales long before the first white 
settlers came to the New England shores. The lightly 
built cedar-planked boats manned by mixed crews of red 
and white men almost invariably carried an Indian 
harpooner and were owned and usually commanded by 
white men. Their method was to launch all available 
craft into the chase and to sink into the whale as many 
harpoons as possible during the periods that it was 
refreshing its lungs on the surface. The sharp harpoons 
weakened the whale and the drogues that were attached 
to them retarded his progress when trying to escape, 
whether along the surface or in a deep dive. As his 
strength waned more and more harpoons and drogues 
were fastened to him until, often after many hours, he was 
despatched by thrusting a long sharp lance into his lungs. 
Never at any stage in this method of hunting were the 
boats actually attached to the whale as were the boats of 
the deep-sea whaleships. 

Jonathan and Ebenezer took turns to visit the kitchen of 
the camp. The cook who was an old Indian with a face 
set in a thousand wrinkles presented them each with a 
platter offish which, together with some of Mrs. Mather's 
pastries from Jonathan's satchel, was enough to satisfy 
their midday appetites. 


Fourteen boats had by now entered the fray and a 
second whale was fighting for its Hfe further along the 
shore, the rest having taken fright and disappeared; but 
for Jonathan it was Master Jackson's whale which now 
became the central figure in the drama that was being 
enacted within the narrow circle of the telescope's vision. 
And into the circle now came Master Jackson's boat, and 
the hunter and the prey were two long dark shapes against 
a patch of water lashed to white foam by the tail of the 
stricken Leviathan. 

The boy saw that the Indian harpooner was now at the 
steering oar and that Master Jackson had taken Chimoo's 
place in the bows. Boat and whale fused to a single dark 
shape and he knew that this was the moment when the 
white hunter was thrusting his long lance deep into that 
part of the whale which was known as his 'life.' 

Goaded to fury the whale lifted its tail twenty feet into 
the air and brought it down with such force that the boat 
was momentarily lost from view in a cloud of spray. 

With a gasp of surprise Jonathan saw that the next 
spout was not white but blood red and he knew that the 
whale was vanquished. He lowered the telescope from 
his eye and for a few moments the thrill of the hunt and 
his admiration for the skill and bravery of the whalemen 
gave way to a feeling of pity for the doomed creature. 

Ebenezer took the telescope from him. *They have 
killed him!' he cried. 'He lies fin out. Well done 
Master Jackson, well done!' and, taking Jonathan by the 
hands he made the rickety lookout post fairly shake as 
he bounced with joy. 

Pity vanished and jubilation flowed into the boy's 
breast. Few sights stir the heart of man or boy so deeply 
as that of his brothers responding victoriously to the 
challenges of nature. 

The low westering sun sent its beams over the sea and 
touched the sides of the six boats with gold as they 


formed a tandem and towed the whale slowly and 
laboriously to the shore. Thirty-six men pulled as a 
single crew. The sun went down and the sea wind lost 
its warmth. Jonathan shivered. 

'Let us go down now/ said Ebenezer. 

Darkness had covered the sea when the whale was 
finally brought to the shore and made secure. 

In the flickering candlelight of one of the huts where 
the crews were enjoying a well earned meal Jonathan 
found Joseph Mather. He was, as Jonathan guessed 
from the size of the clothes he had borrowed, a tall, well- 
built fellow and looked about seventeen years old. Under 
a mop of dark curly hair his bronzed eager face lit with a 
friendly smile when he learned that Jonathan was the boy 
who was employed at his father's inn and over the meal of 
fish and whale steaks there was much for them to talk 
about, for Joseph had not visited his home for several 

That night Jonathan slept in a rough wooden bunk 
against the log wall of the hut. The bunk was hard with- 
out a mattress and in another bunk over his head the sound 
of Ebenezer's breathing was like a saw cutting through a 
whale's backbone. From around the hut came a 
chorus of other various unmusical sounds and from 
outside came the deep bass roar of the surf. But none of 
these affected Jonathan for he slept the sleep of deep 

After a hurried breakfast in the cold light before dawn 
Jonathan went to where two black carcasses each nearly 
sixty feet long lay in the white surf. Already the two 
rows of baleen (or whale fins as they were then called) had 
been cut from the twenty-foot long upper jaws of one of 
them. They lay in bundles on the beach to await clean- 
ing. From this came the strong flexible substance known 
as whalebone which, although even in those times could 
command a good price, reached its highest value in the 



nineteenth century when it was eagerly sought by the 
manufacturers of such articles as whips, umbrellas and 
ladies' corsets. 

The huge tongue which was as long as an elephant's 
body had also been removed and would be boiled down 
to produce as many as fifteen barrels of whale oil. 

The most important task for the whalemen, however, 
was the removal of the blubber that covered the whale on 
whose slippery sea-washed surface men were now making 
deep incisions with specially made cutting spades. They 
severed off long strips and as turf is cut from the soil so this 


foot thick oil-bearing blanket was cut from the whale's 
flesh. Capstans or 'crabs' mounted on the beach supplied 
the power. 

Jonathan jumped in behind one of the capstan bars and 
joined the circle of toiHng men. He sKpped and fell 
and the long brown legs of an Indian stepped over him. 
The men laughed but with bleeding Hp he leapt back to 
his task. 

*Walk it around, my chummies, walk it around!' 

Llcuzk Tb^kk ujka.les killai offtke lYaniicckd beackes 


chanted one. Tut thy hearts into it. Come, come, is 
that the best that thou canst do? Thou, boy, put thy 
chest to the bar and show me something of the man thou 
hopest to be one day.' 

As each blanket piece of blubber came up the beach on 
the end of the capstan rope it was unhooked and loaded 
into a horse-drawn cart which when full took its loads to 
the trying-out ovens nearby. There the blubber was 
chopped into fine pieces before being sent up in baskets to 
the tops of the ovens where it was dropped into the 
boiling coppers. The fires had been started with wood 
but soon the frizzled tissues of the blubber were scooped 
from the bottoms of the coppers, strained and used as fuel 
so that the plumes of smoke from the chimneys changed 
from blue to black and the clean sea air became fouled by 
the stench of burning flesh. 

Then the men standing on the platforms around the 
coppers ladled the boiling liquid into wooden troughs 
each of which led to a complicated system of wicker filters 
and wooden barrels. From this primitive plant whose 
only power was the simple force of gravity the cooled and 
purified oil emerged at ground level and flowed into the 
casks in which it would be stoppered and stored; and in 
which, in due course, it would be shipped to Boston, 
Massachusetts, which was the marketing centre for the 
whale oil of New England. 

In the late afternoon when the last cask had been 
stoppered the great Master Jackson himself came and 
walked between the rows counting off with his forefinger 
the total yield from the two whales. 

'Three hundred and eighteen barrels!' he cried and a 
cheer went up from the tired band of whalemen. 

As the crowd dispersed Jonathan was joined by Joseph 
and Ebenezer, who despite their weariness were showing 
broad grins, evidently in anticipation of their own particu- 
lar share of the profits. 


Jonathan looked towards the late afternoon sun. 'I 
think I must return to the inn now,' he said, addressing 
Joseph, Tor I am employed by your father and not by 
Master Jackson, you know.' 

'Do not worry yourself, Jonathan,' said Joseph reassur- 
ingly. 'Father knows that whaling is the only thing for 
a man to do in this island. Keeping an inn is but a hobby 
for an old man who has had his fill of whaling. You 
know, of course that he is part owner of several of the 

'Yes, I have been employed keeping his accounting 
books and guessed that he had other interests besides the 
inn,' replied Jonathan. 

'And there are some bigger ships being built in the 
yards that he is interested in,' said Ebenezer. 

'That is what this island needs, more ships,' said Joseph. 
'Father says whales are not so plentiful along the shore as 
they were, and if we are to stay in the whale fishery we 
must have more and more ships. There are plenty of 
whales waiting to be taken in the Greenland waters, 
provided the great European whaleships do not kill them 
all before we arrive there. But the sea mist is rising, 
Jonathan, and you must be on your way. Take the path 
yonder that runs by the Indian village. You will find 
it much easier than the one by which you came yester- 

The three lads walked to the huts and after Jonathan 
had collected his satchel he bade his companions farewell. 

As Jonathan strode along the sandy track the mist 
drifted in from the sea and wrapped the land in a cold 
damp blanket of grey. As he walked on he found that the 
track led through one of the few wooded areas of the 
island. Ahead the yellow sandy track receded into the fog 
so that he did not at first notice the tall figure of the Indian 
striding towards him from the opposite direction. Then, 
as the man came nearer he saw him and stopped ; he was 


a little afraid for he was still in awe of the natives and had 
not before encountered them in or near their villages. As 
he stood summoning his courage to come face to face with 
the stranger he saw something move among the dimness of 
the trees and at the same moment there was an explosion. 
The Indian clutched his side and then fell limply to the 
ground where he lay quite still. 

From the trees the grey shape emerged and became the 
dark clad figure of a man. Smoke still drifted from the 
barrel of the pistol in his hand as he gave the body a 
push with his foot. Then out of the corner of his eye he 
saw Jonathan standing speechless and motionless on the 

In the same moment that the boy turned to run he 
recognised the black-bearded features of Nathaniel Sykes, 
the ruffianly man he had seen on his second night at the 

Fleeing through the wood Jonathan heard the man's 
footsteps behind him on the dead leaves and then felt a 
hand grip the tail of his coat. He spun round and the 
large ugly bearded features glowered down at him. 

'Now, young Jonathan/ the man breathed, 'you and me 
'ave got to have a bit of a parley and come to an under- 

He waited till he had got his breath, then he went on, 
T don't want it known to no livin' soul what you've seen 
just 'appen. In fact, as far as you know, it never did 
'appen, did it?' and he crushed the boy's shoulder in his 
large hand. 'Did it?' he repeated and a knife in the 
other hand touched Jonathan's throat till it pricked the 
skin and the blood ran on to his collar. The grip on his 
shoulder tightened like a vice. 'Swear you never saw it 

'I swear, I swear!' gasped Jonathan and felt the grip 

'If you ever let out even a word of what didn't 'appen 


I'll know of it and I'll feed your liver to the gulls if it's 
the last thing I do.' 

With that he turned and walked away through the 
wood and Jonathan ran until he reached the track ahead 

of the spot where the Indian had fallen. Glancing back- 
wards he saw in grey silhouettes Sykes dragging the 
dead Indian from the track. Then the boy made for 
home as fast as his legs could take him. 


The Diary 

AS SOON AS Jonathan entered the parlour the observant 
Mrs. Mather noticed the wild flushed look in the boy's 
normally calm face and thinking that he had a fever sent 
him to bed with a drink of warm goat's milk. Through 
long hours of sleeplessness he lay wondering why Sykes 
had killed the Indian. 

In the days that followed, time slowly healed the shock 
of his experience in the wood and the activities of the 
islanders became of increasing interest to his enquiring 

One evening after he had said goodnight to the inn- 
keeper and his wife he sat on the bed in the flickering 
candlelight of his room and feeling strangely wakeful did 
not undress as usual. Instead he went to the small table 
on which lay an old and tattered accounting book which 


Mr. Mather had given him *to scribble in if he felt so 

He ripped out the used pages and sat on the wooden 
chair. The whalehunt that he had seen a week ago on 
the southern shores returned now in crystal clear images 
to his restless mind. 

He dipped the point of the goose-quill in the ink and 
then with the thoroughness that was always so typical of 
him he wrote: 

The Diary of Jonathan Oakley, commenced the last 

day of May in the year ly^i at Sherburne, 

Mew England, 

On the next page he began to write in his own quaint 
fashion a description of the wonderful things he had seen 
at the whaling camp. 

As the days passed there were many things to record but 
it was not until a year later, when time and events had 
lifted the burden of fear from Jonathan's mind that he 
made the entry telling of the murder of the Indian. 

Let us take a few entries at random and form our own 
picture of the everyday life among these people who were 
destined to find their green pastures not in their island 
home but upon the broad waters of the Atlantic. 

Sixth of June. On hearing the people called out I went 
to the wharf and watched the gambolling of a pod of 
humpback whales. All during the flood tide they 
frolicked in the water outside the bar. It is evident that 
they obtain their name from the arched shape of their 
backs. As they rolled their bodies with a forward 
motion I saw that each had a tall fin upon his back which 
is not found in the black right whale although both are of 
the family that carry whalebones in their mouths. When 
they rolled sideways I saw that the side fins were very 
large in proportion to the body and later when I was able 
to approach one of the dead whales I found that these 


fins measured more than twice the height of two tall men 
and that the whole body measured as long as eight men if 
they lay head to toe on the sand alongside it. 

So many whale were there that a signal was sent to the 
whale camps and among the men who arrived I found 
Joseph. Every boat along this coast was manned and 
upon being asked if I could pull an oar I replied that I 
could which was not truthful since I have had but little 
practice in the boats. But I sat next to Joseph and we 
joined in the sport. The tide having risen we coaxed 
the whale across the bar and confined them within the 

outer harbour where amid great confusion many were 
slain. These humpback whales showed an inclination to 
sink below the surface when dead, but the water around 
the harbour being very shallow, the whales were soon 
hauled up the shore and their blubber taken off and sent 
to the ovens nearby for boiling. 

Eighth of June, At dawn I was awoken by the voices of 
men who were loading a donkey cart with the cutting 
tools. Hearing them speak of a drifted sperm whale I 
dressed and overtook them. We walked to the southern 
shore and found a sixty foot male sperm whale lying dead 
among the surf. In its side we found two harpoons 
inscribed with names of foreign vessels. With great 
labour the men saved the blubber and carried it to the 
town for trying out. They also took from the head the 
spermaceti oil that is found in a special reservoir. 


Ninth of June, The harbour crews to-day gave chase 
to a pod of right whales that were sighted in the sound 
but they returned without reward. Some complained 
that the right whale has become sensible to the sharpness 
of the harpoons and is in fear of our shores and the fate 
that there awaits them. 

Twelfth of June. This forenoon I heard the cry of 
'Sail ho!' and climbed to the lookout platform on the 
roof of the inn to watch two whaleships entering harbour. 
They are such small vessels that their holds cannot con- 
tain more than the blubber of two or three whales and in 
consequence their voyages last at the most only a month or 
two but if they are fortunate enough to meet with whale 
and kill them early in their voyage they may return to 
harbour after only a few days. Mr. Mather came up to 
the roof and I learned from him that these vessels have 
been seeking the sperm whale in southern waters and that 
after overhauling and recruiting (taking on fresh victuals) 
they will sail to the northern waters in search of the Green- 
land right whale which is similar in many ways to the 
black right whale but prefers the colder seas. 

Fifteenth of June. Many dolphins came over the bar 
to-day and Joseph was permitted to practise throwing the 
harping irons with which he killed three. I pulled an oar 
with great vigour but little skill and several times missed 
my stroke and tumbled to the floor of the boat. Whilst 
we were engaged with the dolphins the steersman of the 
seaward boat called out, 'Town ho!' and we all gave 
chase in earnest to a pod of small whales and several were 
killed and towed ashore. 

Joseph struck his first whale and is now a real whale- 
man, but I fear that I shall have to spend much more time 
at the oar before I am permitted to handle the irons. 
Perhaps I gave too much attention to the details of the 
chase and too little to the task of pulling my oar. I saw 
yellow coloured streaks in the water and during a lull 


when we ceased pulling I was able to gather a little of this 
water in a can. The water was not discoloured but it 
contained many small sea creatures which one of the oars- 
men told me was the food of the right whale. 

Eighteenth of June, Mr. Mather has granted me my 
release from his service in order that I may journey to the 
whaling camps with Joseph and seek employment there 
for I am determined to master the crafts of whaling and 
intend that with the aid of the education that I received 
from my father to stand one day as master upon the poop 
of my own whaleship. 

Twenty-third of June, After several days employed in the 
menial tasks of the whaling camp I was given the midships 
oar of one of the boats and we gave chase to a pod of 
small whales but I fear that I made such a sorry mess of 
the task that Master Jackson will not permit me to enter 
in the boats again. He made known to me his conviction 
that my ambition is greater than my ability and that I 
shall need to grow some more muscle upon my bones 
before I am able to pull a whaleboat's oar. 

Twenty-fourth of June. Joseph and I are firm compan- 
ions now. Upon seeing my disappointment over being 
kept at cleaning whale fins and other dull tasks on the 
beach whilst he is in the boats he made the suggestion that 
we should both return to the harbour and seek berths in 
the whaleships bound for the north. So we drew our lay 
of the profits and made for home. 


Jonathan finds a Berth 

THE boys' unexpected arrival at the inn caused some sur- 
prise to Mr. and Mrs. Mather and put the good woman 
in quite a flurry for the inn was full of whalemen waiting 
for the northern season to commence and every bed, 
including those of the boys, had been let for the night. 

Joseph put his arm around his mother's waist. 

*Do not fret, mother,' he said, 'there is plenty of dry hay 
in the barns and we will be just as comfortable there.' 

They sat at the long table in the main parlour and ate 
supper with the whaling crews who were gathered here in 
Nantucket to man the brand new fleet of whaleships in 
which the islanders had invested and which was expected 
at any hour to arrive in the harbour. 

As the men sat smoking their after-supper pipes the 
door flew open and a youth rushed into the parlour shout- 
ing that the ships had been sighted. The boys followed 
some of the men up to the lookout platform on the roof 
and presently Joseph pointed to the westward and 
shouted, 'There they come.' They were hull down over 
the horizon but with all sail set and travelHng at a good 
speed towards the harbour. 

The next day one of the whaling masters of these ships 
came to the inn and asked for Mr. Mather. Jonathan, 
who happened to be writing a new entry in his diary, rose 


from the parlour table and conducted the captain to the 
private room at the back of the building. 

*Your name, sir?' enquired the boy. 

*Captain Slocum. Captain Jeroboam Slocum.' 

He was a very tall man, gaunt of feature and bony 
limbed. His clothes were in the style of a merchant 
service captain of the time with something of the simplicity 
of the Quaker cut about them, and the severity and 
aloofness of his manner caused Jonathan to feel at once 
very small and very insignificant, so that it was with some 
relief that the boy announced his name to Mr. Mather 
and closed the door upon the two men. 

He found Joseph cutting wood in the yard and told him 
of the visitor. After a while Mr. Mather called the two 
lads into the house. 

* Captain Slocum, this is my son, Joseph, and this boy 
whom you have already met is Jonathan Oakley. They 
are both set on finding berths in one of the whaleships. 
Joseph has already struck his first whale and would no 
doubt serve you well as an oarsman or even a harpooner, 

but Jonathan ' and Mr. Mather placed his hand upon 

the boy's shoulder. *Are you still of the same mind, lad ? 
You are. Well then, Captain Slocum, here is a cabin 
boy for you.' 

The captain's deepset eyes frowned upon the two lads 
for a second. Then he turned to Mr. Mather. 'I will 
take thy sons in my ship, friend. Tell them to report on 
board to-morrow forenoon.' 

When he had gone Mr. Mather said, *His manner may 
seem a Httle abrupt but he is a godly man and one of the 
best whaling masters on these coasts. We both hold a 
share in the vessel and having that in common with me I 
am sure he will serve my sons well.' 

It was obvious to the boys that something was troubling 
Mr. Mather. They waited while he seemed to struggle 
with some indecision. Then he leant forward in his chair 


and said, *I wish in some ways that I could have arranged 
for you to sail in one of the other sloops but this was the 
only one with a berth left for a cabin boy. She is the 
biggest yet to sail out of here and is of sixty tons burden. 
She is bound further north than the others on an exped- 
ition to the Davis Straits. She will hunt whale but the 
main purpose is to discover the possibilities of extending 
the activities of our fleet in those waters. There may be 
dangers and I would not be sorry if you changed your 
minds. Do you still want to go?' 

'I do,' said the two lads with one voice. 

'Very well then, if you are set on it you must give me 
your solemn promises that you keep the ship's destination 
a secret. The vessel is called the Pilgrim.^ 

The boys murmured their promises. 

In the captain's cabin of the whaler Pilgrim the next 
morning the members of the crew were assembled to sign 
their articles. 

'Look, Joseph,' whispered Jonathan as they took their 
places at the end of the line, 'is that not Chimoo, the 
Indian harpooner from Master Jackson's camp?' 

'Indeed it is,' replied Joseph. 'We should be certain of 
killing a few whale with him in the bow of a boat.' 

'I do not see Eb Small,' said Jonathan. 'Perhaps he has 
signed with one of the other ships.' 

When all hands were present the captain, with Mr. 
Mather and the two other men who held shares in the 
vessel standing behind him, broke the news that the ship 
was to visit the Davis Straits. He assured them of the 
soundness of the enterprise and finished his brief address 
with a warning that any man or boy who wished to 
withdraw should do so at once. 

Two of the men left the cabin without a word but the 
rest moved into line and each came singly to the table to 
give his signature or mark as the case might be. 

According to the rank or trade each was allotted a lay or 


share of whatever profits might be made from the voyage. 
Jonathan, as cabin boy, received a mere i /150th lay but 
Joseph, being old enough to sign as able seaman was 
allotted a i/75th lay, whilst Chimoo, as harpooner, or 
boatheader as this rank was sometimes called, received 
the princely lay of i/50th. The carpenter and the 
cooper also received lays of i/50th and the *short lays' 
ranging from i/25th up to i/8th went to the three mates 
and the captain. In this case the captain also drew 
extra share as one of the four owners. 

An advance of money was made to each man for the 
purchasing of personal equipment and then with a last 
word from the captain that every man was to be on board 
to make sail at dawn to-morrow the meeting broke up. 

The boys did not follow the rest of the crew ashore. 
This was their first ship and the purchases could wait 
while they proudly looked over her. 

She was a sixty tonner as Mr. Mather had said and 
straight from the builder's yard. Already they had looked 
at her from the wharf. With her broad beam and bluff 
bows, her low freeboard and raised poop-deck, and her 
single mast and fore-and-aft rig she looked not unhke a 
smaller version of the Dutch ships that had been seen to 
visit those shores, and which the marine painter Van de 
Velde was so fond of portraying. She was typical of the 
many sloops seen along the New England shores of that 
day. Their small drafts enabled them to enter the shallow 
bays and harbours whilst their fore-and-aft rig made them 
fast and easy to handle. 

All this they had observed before boarding the ship and 
now they began an inspection of the main deck. 

The objects which attracted the boys' interest most 
were the two whaleboats that lay in their chocks on the 
midships deck. In contrast to the bluff sturdiness of 
their mother ship these boats were long and narrow and 
lightly constructed of thin cedar planking on finely cut 


oak frames, pointed at both ends. They were in fact 
descended from the Indian canoes in which the natives of 
New England had first hunted the whale and they re- 
tained all the qualities that had made the canoe fast and 
manoeuvrable whilst being stronger and more seaworthy. 
At this stage in their evolution they were about twenty-two 
feet long and similar to the boats the islanders used on the 
beaches, having five thwarts and a small triangular 
platform in the bow and stern ; but in addition they were 
fitted for the task of fastening to the whale and for this 
purpose carried a bollard or loggerhead on the stern 
platform and a narrow channel or fairlead lined with lead 
between the converging gunwales of the bow. A wooden 
pin bridging this fairlead served to prevent the whale fine 
from jumping free. The wooden loggerhead in the stern 
provided a means of checking the speed at which the line 
ran out of the boat and enabled the man manning it to 
strike a balance between the extravagance of allowing the 
line to run free and the fatal folly of securing its inboard 
end and being towed under by the whale; this resulted 
very often in the boat being taken for what was later known 
as a 'Nantucket sleigh ride'. The oars, paddles, mast and 
sail lay ready for use but the tub that contained the whale 
fine would not be put in the boat until lowering for whale. 

The sleek boats were a great advance on others the boys 
had seen and it was no wonder that they captured their 
imagination so readily. 

The boys went forward and climbed through the hatch 
to the cramped forecastle, in which with thirteen other 
mariners they were to eat and sleep during the coming 
weeks. Furnished only with a table and two seating 
forms, all of which were bolted securely to the deck, and 
with a plentiful crop of iron hooks in the beams and bulk- 
heads for the purposes of swinging hammocks and hanging 
clothes, this tiny triangular compartment might have 
been partitioned from the main hold as an afterthought 


by the shipbuilder who, in the final stages of his task, 
was suddenly reminded of the necessity of providing a 
place of shelter for the men who were to man the ship. 
It was only a little bigger than the officers' cabin in which 
they had just signed their articles and Jonathan realised 
that the custom of providing each officer with about four 
times the space allotted to each seaman was in itself 
sufficient incentive to a greenish cabin boy to aim at 
attaining in the vague and distant future a place of 
authority upon the poop-deck. 

The lads made a quick survey of the galley which 
adjoined the forecastle and in which Jonathan was to 
receive from an old Basque cook his initiation into the 
mysterious craft of preparing shipboard meals on the 
rolling seas, a prospect over which Jonathan was unable 
to muster much enthusiasm but which he knew must face 
every boy embarking on his first whaling voyage. 

In the afternoon, having completed the purchasing of 
their outfits the boys loaded their kitbags on to a hand- 
cart and upon the bags Jonathan placed an iron-bound 
wooden box, a present from Mr. Mather. It contained 
a jar of ink, a supply of paper and quills, a copy of John 
Bunyan's Country Rhimes for Boys and Girls and a small 
brass crucifix given by Mrs. Mather. 

The good lady stood at the door of the inn and watched 
with moist eyes the youthful figures disappearing towards 
the wharf. 

As soon as they had stowed their kit they joined the 
others in helping to bring on board the last of the stores 
and equipment and by dusk the Pilgrim was in all respects 
ready to proceed to sea; except for one very important 
item — her crew. 

Four of the fourteen forecastle hands had apparently 
deserted. At the dawn roll call they were still missing 
and two of the mates spent the day in a fruitless search 
of the island. After dark the captain himself went aishore 



with the mates to recruit fresh men and when Jonathan 
and Joseph slung their hammocks there was still no news 
that their efforts had been successful. 

But when they were called to scrub decks at dawn they 
saw that all but one of the hammocks in the forecastle 
had been slept in. 

'Other one, he in boat,' Chimoo explained, nodding 
towards the whaleboats on the deck. 

After breakfast mothers, wives, sisters and sweethearts 
came to wish their menfolk farewell. Mrs. Mather 
gathered up both boys in one big tearful embrace and 
then at a sharp order from the first mate the decks were 
cleared. The warps were taken in, the headsails hoisted 
and the vessel ghosted away from the wharf into the 
morning mist leaving behind her a sad little group of 
people, amongst whom there was one, Mr. Richard 
Mather, whose mind was troubled by having just been 
told the identity of the man who still lay in a drunken 
sleep at the bottom of one of the Pilgrim^ s whaleboats. 

%e Pilgrim 


On Passage 

THE TWENTY-FOUR HOURS delay had soured the captain 
and angered the mates and the general temper of the 
ship's company was not improved by the absence of a 
good sailing breeze. The ship was still in sight of the 
harbour when Jonathan and the steward carried the mid- 
day meal aft to the officers' quarters where the atmosphere 
struck Jonathan as being very tense. 

None of these matters had much effect upon the boy to 
whom everything was so new and exciting; but as he 
emerged from the after hatchway bearing a pile of dirty 
dishes he was confronted with what he could only believe 
at first was a horrible vision. Staring at him from over 
the gunvv^ale of the larboard whaleboat was the black- 
bearded, sleep puffed face of Nathaniel Sykes. 

'So you 'ave chose to ship along with old Nat, 'ave you, 
young Jonah? Well, well, let's 'ope we 'ave a merry time 

The voice of the mate on watch bellowed from aft, 'Get 
your lazy carcass out of that boat and turn to at once,' 
and Sykes climbed slowly out on to the deck. 

The dreaded secret of the murder in the wood lay heavy 
on the boy's spirit but he remembered his vow of silence, 
which even though made to a blackguard like Sykes 
could not be broken without loss of honour. Chimoo he 
knew came from the same village as the murdered brave 


and it was probable that the other two Indians in the crew 
came from there too. He would try to discover by 
watching the behaviour of the three Indians whether 
they knew or suspected the identity of the murderer of 
their fellow tribesman. 

The news of Sykes's presence spread quickly through the 
ship for he was an infamous character, but it was too early 
yet for Jonathan to detect any signs of enmity between 
Sykes and the Indians, although he was able to learn from 
Joseph that the man had signed in the Pilgrim in order to 
escape from the wrath of the tribe whom he had cheated 
in a trading deal. 

As the two lads sat discussing the matter in the fore- 
castle something of Jonathan's uneasiness must have been 
evident in his manner for Joseph said, 'Why do you look 
so troubled, Jonathan ? Surely you have nothing to fear 
from the rascal?' 

Jonathan forced a smile and replied, 'No, of course not,' 
but he wished in his heart that he could share his secret 
with his friend. 

'Captain Slocum and the mates will see that he is kept in 
his place,' said Joseph. 

Indeed, as the wind became favourable and the ship 
headed north, Sykes settled into the routine of the 
voyage as well as the rest for he was an experienced 
whaleman and a good seaman. 

The ship's company was assembled on deck and divided 
into watches and the captain, as was the custom at the 
commencement of a whaling voyage, expounded a few 
of his views on such subjects as discipline, hard work, 
courage, cheerfulness and faith in the Almighty. He used 
the Quaker 'thee' and 'thou' and this, combined with his 
Biblical style of speech, made it seem that the Ten Com- 
mandments with which he rounded off his address were 
not quoted from the Book but inventions of his own mind 
like the rest of his harangue. 

jjosejh Icddncf over ^..^ ..^^„^ 
eye oj^ the proud (Quaker Cajdhitu 



It occurred to Jonathan as he watched the tall gaunt 
figure that the man might even think himself some sort of 
god, so superior was he in his attitude to his men. 

On the third morning the lookout sighted two of the 
sloops that had sailed ahead of the Pilgrim. The vessels 
were hove to in a southerly breeze and their boats were 
away to leeward of them. At first the Pilgrim^ s men 
thought they were after whale but on drawing closer 
they found that the boats were being exercised. 

*Bring her close to leeward of the Red Rose, helmsman,' 
ordered the captain, but the poor man at the wheel was 
not so familiar with Sherburne whalers as was his com- 
mander who, on seeing that the man was steering for the 



wrong sloop, roared, 'To starboard, thou fool ! Dost thou 
not know the Red Rose when thou seest her?' 

As the Pilgrim and the Red Rose came beam to beam 
Captain Slocum cupped his hands to his mouth and 
called to his colleague across the water, 'Why dost thou 
waste such a fair breeze, Master Jason.' 

'We sighted black whale. Master Slocum,' came back 
the reply, 'but these men of ours are greener than spring 
cabbages and made such a sorry affair of the chase 
that we chose to keep them at it in the boats so that 
they may be sure of the difference between an oar and 
a harping iron the next time we meet up with the 


As the Pilgrim drew away the remaining words of the 
Red Rose's captain were lost on the wind. 

During the following day the Pilgrim passed at different 
times two of the Nantucket sloops returning to port and 
on each occasion, upon being hailed and asked what 
success they had had, they reported full cargoes of 
blubber. There were murmurs of envy from the Pilgrim's 
men for although these sloops were of only about thirty 
tons burden and their cargo capacity not much more than 
required for the blubber of one large whale, they had 
been at sea for only eight days. In addition to their 
cargoes of blubber they reported good catches of cod, for 
it was customary in these small ships for men not employed 
on lookout duties to employ their time catching fish. In 
fact, most whaling voyages about this time were not con- 
fined entirely to the hunting of whale but to alternative 
pursuits such as catching fish, seal and walrus and trading 
with natives. 

On the tenth day the ship was beset by a dead calm near 
the southern entrance of the Belle Isle Straits between 
Newfoundland and the mainland. After hours of pacing 
the deck and calling upon his Maker for a capful of wind 
Captain Slocum stopped suddenly in his tracks and 
shouted, *There are whales two miles on your starboard 
bow! Call all hands ! Lower the boats !' 

Even the mate of the watch looked dumbfounded as he 
scanned the sea in vain for the sight of a spout. 

*Mr. Todd!' roared the captain. 'Didst thou hear me 
or art thou deaf? Those whale will escape us before we 
sink a single iron. Stir thyself, man ! Wake up, wake up !' 

After that the sleepy ship came suddenly to life and 
within a few minutes the two boats were in the water and 
the crews pulling as if their very lives depended upon it. 
But they had barely cleared away from the ship's side 
when the Captain's voice boomed at them across the 


*Why, thou art like a lot of snails. Hoist the boats and 
let me see thy bottoms seated in half the time.' 

No matter what operation was attempted, whether 
loading the gear into the boats, pulling, hoisting and 
lowering sail or sterning the oars the captain's desire for 
speed could not be satisfied. But on the fourth lowering 
even he grew tired of his own bellowings and the boats' 
crews pulled away from the ship to find some peace out of 
range of their commander's fiery nature. 

Then to the southward the oily surface of the sea became 
marked with the catspaws of wind and the boats returned 
to the ship, their sails taut and their oars dipping. They 
were hoisted laboriously to the deck, and the Pilgrim 
continued on her voyage. 

When the ship had settled down one of the green hands 
looked up from coiling down a rope. There was a frown 
on his youthful face as he spoke to Todd, the second mate. 
'I saw no sign of a spout, did you, sir?' 

'No, my lad, but the captain has a most wonderful sharp 
pair of eyes,' replied the diminutive Todd with a laugh. 

The Pilgrim passed through the Belle Isle Straits and 
then followed the rocky coast of Labrador until she 
arrived at Esquimo Bay where she anchored and took on 

As the casks were being hoisted over the side Jonathan, 
on his way along the deck to the officers' quarters, over- 
heard Sykes talking with some of the men. 

'Not a single spout 'ave we raised this whole voyage,' he 
was saying. 'Not one. I tell you we should 'ave gone to 
the Grand Banks and cruised there like the others. Their 
casks will be full of blubber by now, but look at us, not 
even a porpoise 'ave we taken and not a stain upon the 

lilywhite decks. I tell you ' and the rest of Sykes's 

words were lost to Jonathan as he descended the after 

That evening the ship was still at anchor in the calm 


waters of the bay and Jonathan availed himself of this 
opportunity to make some observations in his diary. As 
he sat at the forecastle table, the only sounds were the 
scratching of his quill and the muffled creak of slack 
rigging. Yet he sensed something disturbing in the 
quiet of the dimly lit forecastle and he turned and looked 
up at one of the swinging hammocks. Through a haze of 
tobacco smoke and screen of matted black whiskers the 
baleful eyes of Nathaniel Sykes were watching him closely. 

Nothing was said and Jonathan went on with his writing 
but all the time he knew that those eyes, full of suspicion 
and hate, were boring into his very soul. 

The Pilgrim weighed anchor and continued her voyage, 
but no whales were sighted until one morning there came 
into view a fleet of Esquimo oomiaks which it soon 
became obvious were in pursuit of a large right whale. 

The captain ordered sail to be reduced in the hope that 
other whales would be sighted; but it is not the habit of 
right whales as it is with the sperm to remain in the vicinity 
of a stricken comrade and none were sighted. 

As the ship ghosted along at slow speed Jonathan stood 
upon the forecastle head and watched the Esquimos. 

Each narrow craft, constructed with sealskins stretched 
over frail wooden frames, was being propelled at furious 
speed by a crew of fur-clad Esquimos with paddles. They 
were continually dashing in and thrusting their stings 
into their massive prey, like a swarm of angry wasps. 
Each of the oomiaks carried a supply of spears to which 
were attached bladders of inflated sealskin and as one 
after another of these spears was implanted by the intrepid 
Esquimos more and more of the sealskin bladders became 
attached to the whale. They bobbed and bounced in the 
white water beside the whale as he swam but did not 
appear to make any appreciable reduction in his speed. 
But, when he dipped his head and hfted his flukes to 
sound, the bladders clung to the surface until the last 


moment and the cunning method of the Esquimos at once 
became obvious to Jonathan. Those bladders must 
retard his downward motion through the water and the 
greater number that were attached the smaller was the 
whale's chance of escape ; which was of course the reason 
why the hunters had attacked so furiously and in such 
large numbers. Furthermore, although Jonathan was 
unaware of the fact, these hunters employed a cunning 
toggle device which turned the barb of the spearhead and 
caused it to stick fast and prick the flesh of the whale when 
the line became taut. 

When the whale surfaced again the Esquimo oomiaks 
crowded in on him once more approaching from ahead to 
avoid the great tail flukes that thrashed through a wide 
arc which reached even to the creature's side fins. One 
of the craft within that arc was swept away as easily as a 
fly is swept away by a horse's tail. Then the monster 
tried to dive but came up quickly carrying one of the 
oomiaks to the summit of its body and in the brief second 
that the frail craft poised balanced there the Esquimo in 
the bows reached out an arm and thrust a spear deep into 
the whale's side. The next instant the craft slid down 
the whale's side throwing the crew into the welter of white 
water that surrounded the whale. 

The spear of that brave hunter must have found its 
mark for Jonathan saw that the next spout was blood red. 

The oomiaks withdrew after rescuing the Esquimos 
and waited ; the Pilgrim, still under reduced sail, slid past 
the scene; the native hunters and the New England 
whalemen watched the drama of the whale in all the fury 
of its last flurry as it thrashed, rolled and spouted red. 
Then it turned upon one side and the ten foot side fin 
pointed to the sky. 

The ship passed on. 

As Jonathan walked along the deck to resume his duties 
he heard the guttural voice of Nathaniel Sykes saying, 


'Even the Esquimos find whale. I tell you there's a Jonah 
aboard this ship and I've a pretty good notion who it is. 
'Is name fits 'im well and 'e's for ever scratchin' away 
with a quill like some seaborne agent of the Devil.' 

Jonathan's face coloured as he heard these words, so 
obviously intended for his ears. 


She Blows! 

A HIGH SEA was running as the Pilgrim crossed the entrance 
to the Hudson Straits and her company was very relieved 
when the captain sailed her into the lee of Resolution 
Island at the southern tip of Baffin Land. 

As the ship lay hove to waiting for the storm to pass 
Jonathan stood on deck and gazed for a while at the 
distant snow-clad peaks, but the icy north wind cut 
through his clothes and he was soon glad to seek shelter 
below decks where a different kind of coldness awaited 
him in the sidelong glances of some of the white men. 
Jonathan guessed that the superstitious talk of Sykes had 
had some effect upon the simple minds of these rough 
seamen and although they were in the minority it made 
him feel miserable to be regarded as an omen of ill luck 
in the ship. As he lay in his hammock listening to the 
sea slapping against the ship's hull it occurred to him that 
although Sykes himself might be the victim of such super- 
stitions the real reason for infecting the men's minds 
with them might be to gain the backing of as many as 
possible of the crew should it become necessary to rid the 
ship of the one person who could expose his guilt. Once 
the three Indian members of the crew had proof that their 
tribesman had been murdered by Sykes the man's own life 
would be in danger. Chimoo and his two friends probably 


knew that the Indian had died ; they might even suspect 
Sykes but it was evident that they had no real proof. 

When Joseph came below at the changing of the watch 
Jonathan leant over the edge of his hammock and whis- 
pered anxiously, 'Is there any sign of whale yet?' 

Joseph smiled. 'No, Jonathan, and even if there were 
we would not be able to hunt in this weather.' His 
smiling face became suddenly grave. 'I know you are 
still troubled about the superstitions of that fellow Sykes, 
but it often happens that a ship does not sight a whale for 
weeks together and then a malady known as whale sick- 
ness comes over the company and they fall prey to any 
kind of foolish talk. Be of good cheer, Jonathan, for we 
are bound to find whale soon and then these chummies 
will have no time for Sykes and his superstitions. Chimoo 
and his two kinsmen hate the man and I am sure that it is 
not merely because he cheated their tribe.' 

Once again Jonathan pushed aside the impulse to tell 
Joseph the truth. 

Joseph tousled the boy's fair curls and then playfully 
pulled him out of his hammock on to the deck and as they 
rolled over and over in a mock wrestling match Chimoo 
descended the companionway. 

'Jonathan call Chimoo if he want help,' said the 
Indian showing his fine white teeth in a grin. 

Jonathan glanced up from under his opponent's elbow. 

'Perhaps I shall when I really need you, Chimoo,' he 

As soon as the wind abated the Pilgrim felt her way out 
into the open waters of the Davis Straits where a line of 
five icebergs sat sedate and unmoved by the high swell 
that still rolled down from the north. As Jonathan stood 
upon the bows fascinated by their monumental aloofness 
the sun suddenly shone through the clouds and changed 
their colour from a cold flat white to blue and gold. He 
watched the ever present fulmars wheeling around the 

'she blows !' 57 

ship; a lazy seal slid reluctantly from an ice floe as the 
vessel approached. The ship was sailing into a wonder- 
ful new world where days and nights begin to merge into 
one long afternoon, but for Jonathan one thing was 
needed to make it complete — the spout of a whale. 

A haze covered the sun and cut short the brief glory of 
the sub-Arctic summer and one by one the icebergs to the 
eastwards became wrapped in an advancing bank of fog 
until only the summits of the highest were still visible. 

On the poop-deck Macy, the burly first mate, took final 
compass bearings of the bergs and the distant peaks of 
Baffin Land. The fog bank advanced and Jonathan felt 
its cold touch as it covered the ship, whose upperworks 
now became mere grey silhouettes which lost their 
sharpness of definition as they receded from the eye into 
the grey yet oddly luminous murk. 

Jonathan went below to the galley where old Pierre the 
Basque cook reviled him for having stayed so long on deck. 
Normally Jonathan would not have been worried by the 
outburst for Pierre was always scolding him for being on 
deck instead of in the galley but on this occasion he could 
detect real anger in the Frenchman's manner and he 
knew at once that yet another of the ship's company 
had fallen prey to the belief that there was a 'Jonah' on 

The fog grew thicker. On a well-charted coast the 
captain would probably have sought an anchorage as 
soon as he saw the fog approaching but the coast of 
Baffin Land was only vaguely defined upon his charts and 
he decided to sail slowly north-eastwards under a single 
staysail away from the dangers of the rocky shore and into 
the open waters which he realised were only slightly less 
dangerous by reason of the risk of collision with icebergs. 

For two days the ship crept through the murk with 
lookouts stationed aloft and on the bowsprit and nothing 
was sighted. 


Many times Jonathan noticed the brooding eyes of 
Sykes cast in his direction and once when Jonathan and 
Chimoo stood together on the foredeck the boy saw those 
eyes darken with hate and fear. Chimoo saw them too but 
he said nothing. 

On the third day of fog came a call from the forward 
lookout, 'Ice ahead ! Ice ahead ! Starboard your helm ! 

To starboard, to starboard! ' and the rest of the 

words that he continued to shout as he scrambled to 
safety along the bowsprit were swallowed up by the spine- 
chilling crash that followed as the ship hit a towering cliff 
of ice. 

Jonathan had been serving the midday meal to Macy 
the first mate and now he followed the man up the 
companionway and along the main deck to the bows which 
had taken the main brunt of the collision. The smashed 
bowsprit hung in a tangle of sails and rigging and the 
forward bulwarks had been stove in; the single staysail 
was still filled by the faint breeze which kept the ship 
pressed against the face of the ice and with each lift of 
the swell came a sickening grinding of wood against ice. 

'Lower that sail!' shouted Macy and through the fog 
came the reply, 'The halliard is jammed, sir, and will not 
come free!' 

'Then go aloft and free it, you fools!' cried Macy. 

But no man moved for the topmast was scraping an 
overhanging buttress of the ice and the larboard crosstree 
had already been smashed. The masthead lookout had 
already forsaken his dangerous perch and Joseph and 
Chimoo were engaged in trying to clear away the tangled 
forward rigging. 

Jonathan saw Macy move but in the same second that 
it took the mate to reach the starboard shrouds the boy 
leapt ahead of him and scrambled aloft to the crosstrees. 
The ship rolled and the mast moved through an arc away 
from the ice; then, like an inverted pendulum, it stopped 

Jonathon cuin^ on gnTtdy Irifinci tojCmCf 
UTKid the confusion ofrig^iKq, ike halliard 
IfuU keU, the ujayuia^d ^taysaiL 



and swung back through the same arc and crashed against 
the ice. 

Jonathan clung on grimly with beating heart trying to 
find amid the confusion of rigging the halliard that held 
the wayward staysail. At last he found it and drawing 
his knife from its sheath he hacked it clear of the block in 
which it had jammed. The sail tumbled down to the 
foredeck and the men with spars were able to push the 
ship's bows clear of the ice. Jonathan saw the white 
overhanging cliff recede into the fog and disappear. 

Just then he felt a strange warmth touch his face and 
above him the grey fog grew lighter and lighter till it 
dropped like a veil and left him isolated in a new world of 
clear and sparkling sunlight. The deck below was still 
invisible and nearby, the iceberg rose like a white rocky 
island out of the grey sea of fog. Away to the eastward he 
saw the blue line of the horizon which even as he watched 
grew broader and broader as the fog drifted westward. 
On that horizon he saw another iceberg that looked 
curiously like a crouching white rabbit. Then upon the 
blue band of the sea he saw something that caused his 
heart to beat anew. A tall white plume rose up for 
about three seconds and then disappeared. 

Summoning all the strength of his lungs he called out to 
those below the words that they had waited so long to hear. 

*Town ho! Town ho! She blo-o-ows!' 

And from below, out of the fog, came the response. 
*Where away?' in the deep bass tones of the captain's 

*Two points on the larboard bow!' called Jonathan. 

'How far off?' 

'About two miles!' 

Up through the fast disappearing fog came the wide- 
eyed faces of men eager for the sight of the whale. 

*Come down from the rigging, all of you,' called Macy. 
'None of you had the spunk to climb it when I ordered. 

*SHE BLOWS !' 6l 

You left it to the child to show you the way. Come 
down, I say, or I'll have you all flogged.' 

Jonathan followed them down the ratlines, but the 
captain called out to Macy, *Keep the lad in the rigging 
and tell him to keep the whale in sight. Hoist the main- 
sail if thou art able.' 

The boy remained on the ratlines until the sail was 
hoisted and then he climbed once more to the damaged 
crosstrees. As he did so the last of the fog cleared away so 
that everyone on the deck was now able to see the whale. 

'It is a lone Greenland whale, Mr. Macy,' called the 
captain as he inspected it through a telescope. *Steer 
Nor'-nor'-east,' he ordered and the helmsman leaned on 
the tiller and Todd, the second mate, trimmed the main- 

*Mr. Todd, prepare to lower the starboard boat!' 
boomed the captain and at once the deck became the scene 
of rapid activity as the whaling gear was fetched and 
loaded into one of the boats; harpoons, lances, linetubs 
and drogues, all were stowed into their allotted places in 
the long frail-looking craft. 

'The rest of the company under Mr. Macy will start 
repairing ship,' and the captain looked up at Jonathan. 
'And thou, boy,' he shouted, 'keep thine eyes open for the 
sight of other whales.' 

The Pilgrim limped slowly towards the whale which 
continued to spout until the ship was about a mile distant. 
Then it sounded and when after fifteen minutes it broke 
surface it was about a quarter of a mile on the larboard 
beam and to leeward of the vessel. 

At once the captain ordered the mainsail to be lowered 
and the boat to be swung out. The davits or cranes that 
were such a prominent feature along the sides of whalers 
later in the eighteenth century had not yet been devised 
and the lowering of the whaleboat took many precious 
minutes to complete by the much slower method of using 


tackles suspended from the main rigging; but with some 
of the crew working at the windlass and others man- 
handling her over the side the boat was eventually got 
into the water. The crew scrambled into their places, 
Chimoo with his bright coloured headdress seated in the 
bows, Todd wielding the long steering oar in the stern 
and Joseph one of the five oarsmen. They pulled clear of 
the ship and then hoisted sail. With the wind astern and 
the five oars dipping rhythmically the boat bore down 
upon the whale which was swimming away from them 
and spouting at regular intervals. The head of the 
Greenland right whale was arched at the top and it was 
this curious feature which caused it to be given the name 
of 'bowhead'. It sounded before the boat could overtake 
it but Todd pressed his craft onwards. A mile astern the 
Pilgrim followed Hke a mother watching her venturesome 

In about a quarter of an hour the whale broke surface 
only a few hundred yards from the boat. 

Now Chimoo shipped his oar, took up his harpoon and 
stood poised in the bows. The sail was lowered and the 
oarsmen manoeuvred the boat to approach the bowhead 
at an angle which would keep them clear of the tail. 
Then Chimoo's arm swept forward thrusting his harpoon 
through the air across the few feet that divided him from 
the whale. Another harpoon followed in quick succession 
and the whale set off at full speed along the surface, taking 
with it the line and the wooden drogues designed to check 
its speed. There was 250 fathom of this hemp line coiled 
down in the big tub near the stern of the boat and it 
passed between the larboard and starboard banks of 
oarsmen, over the looms of their oars and out of the boat 
through the specially shaped fairlead on the extreme point 
of the bows. 

Todd the mate now left his steering oar trailing astern 
and began checking the outward run of the line by passing 

'she blows !' 63 

it a few times around the stout wooden bollard or logger- 
head that was built into the small triangular platform in 
the stern. When about fifty fathom had run out of the 
tub he took two more turns with the line and gripped it 
firmly in his hands. At once the boat began to plane over 
the surface in tow of the whale and the crests of the long 
swell plucked at the taut hempen line making it quiver 
like a bowstring and drop little white curtains of droplets. 

The white plume under the boat's bows grew smaller 
and it became obvious to Jonathan that the whale was 
slackening speed. The strain on the line eased and the 
crew, who had shipped their oars as soon as the wild ride 
had begun, now commenced hauling in on the line. 

Meanwhile Todd had moved from the stern to the bow 
and Chimoo, having accomplished the first and most im- 
portant part of his duties as harpooner, had taken the 
mate's place in the stern where he coiled down the line as 
it was hauled in by the rest of the crew. 

When the boat was only a few fathoms away from the 
whale the men manned their oars and with Todd waving 
instructions to Chimoo the boat was brought into a favour- 
able position for the attack with the lance. Todd, 
gnome-like in a pointed woollen hat, stood ready with his 
weapon lifted at arm's length. Then the whale sounded 
but its strength was waning fast and it could not remain 
below the water for more than a few minutes. When it 
broke surface the boat leapt towards it like a hungry lean 
beast of prey and this time Todd's lance found its mark, 
for the monster spouted red and with a final lash of its 
tail rolled over and died. 

With a cheer from the men who were still at work on the 
repairs, the Pilgrim closed in upon the scene and the whale 
was secured alongside. 

Jonathan in his perch aloft kept watch for more whales 
but this seemed to be the only one in the area, which 
indeed was not surprising seeing that the Greenland right 


Algetic ^iTcle 

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whales were lovers of the ice fringe and that the Pilgrim 
was still not yet in those higher latitudes where they could 
be expected to be found in plenty. 

The boy looked down at the dead whale as it wallowed 
under the ship's side. It was dark in colour and not 
unlike the black right whales he had seen on the shores of 
the island ; but it had a white patch on its chin and on its 
head that peculiar bump that he had noticed when it was 
swimming; another difference was that it did not have on 
its snout the barnacle-clustered 'bonnet' that the black 
right whales had. He recalled how Mr. Mather had 
told him that it was the thick blubber of the Greenland 
whale and its high yield of oil that had attracted the big 
Dutch, German and English whaleships to the inhospit- 
able Arctic waters. The other reason they had gone 
there, he had said, was that ever since the days of the 
Basque whalers in the twelfth century the right whales 
which once swam in great numbers around the European 
coasts had been hunted until there were none left and the 
whaleships had had to seek fresh ground in more distant 

Jonathan had also learnt that the same process was 
taking shape along the New England shores as the right 
whales there grew less and less plentiful. The sperm 
whale which was a much more formidable opponent than 
either of the right whales was already being pursued in 
the warmer southern seas and throughout the next 
hundred years it was to provide the New England whale- 
men and the Nantucketers in particular with a seemingly 
endless source of oil. 

The task of stripping the blubber from the whale in mid- 
ocean was a long and arduous one, for the Pilgrim was 
barely twice the weight of this immature Greenland 
whale and even had her men known of the more efficient 
method of hanging a cutting tackle in the rigging they 
could not have used it in so small a ship. 

'she blows !' 67 

Some working from the boat and some upon the shppery 
whale itself the men hacked away big hunks of blubber 
whilst others hauled it aboard with ropes and grapnels. 
They used the capstan when they could but most of the 
effort came from the strength of their arms. 

Jonathan could not help laughing at the sight of the 
men slithering about on the back of the whale but his 
amusement was suddenly cut short when one of them 
tumbled into the icy sea. In a few seconds his shipmates 
had him safely in the boat; and none too soon, thought 
Jonathan as he watched a pod of killer whales cruising 
inquisitively at a short distance. 

The killer is the only cannibal member of the whale 
family. In shape and speed it is like a porpoise and the 
males measure in length up to thirty feet. 

Suddenly the killer whales closed in and like a pack of 
hungry wolves began attacking the dead whale. Jona- 
than noticed that no one ventured from the boat now. 
Even as the men worked to remove the rest of the blubber 
the killers were biting at the jaws of the dead bowhead 
and the boy watching from the masthead wondered at the 
reason for this until he saw them tear out the huge tongue 
which otherwise might have filled several barrels with 
precious blubber. 

During the 'cutting in' the wind had increased and the 
Pilgrim now rolled so badly that the captain decided it was 
not worth trying to remove the whalebone from the 
mangled head. So the boat was hoisted and course set 
for the west coast of Greenland where whales were sure to 
be found in plenty. 

When at last Jonathan was relieved at the masthead and 
descended to the deck he read at once in the faces of the 
men that the prejudice which had turned some of them 
against him had been replaced by admiration at his 
having saved the ship and sighted the whale. Some 
were open in their praise and clapped him on the shoulders 


whilst Others, ashamed of their earher superstitions or 
their lack of courage in the face of danger, were more diffi- 
dent; but the attitude of Sykes towards the boy had not 
changed ; nor could it be expected to do so whilst the fear 
of his guilt being communicated to the Indians gnawed 
deeper and deeper into his black heart. 

There was no room now in the minds of the men for 
any scheme he might have for turning them against the 
boy and as the ship sailed on its way he found himself 
shunned and alone. 

The task of chopping up the large pieces of blubber 
and stowing it in the casks in the hold was soon completed. 
The decks, christened at last with the blood and oil of the 
whale, were scrubbed as clean as ever. 

With her rigging repaired and all sails filling the little 
Pilgrim reached for the Arctic Circle. The fulmars in her 
wake heard the voices of men chanting songs of their 
homeland and joined chorus with their own sad cries. 


The Elusive Bowhead 

*WHEN I WAS in Spitzbergen,' old Pierre the cook was say- 
ing as he and Jonathan stood in the galley picking weevils 
from the flour, 'the Dutchmen, they have their tryworks 
on the shore and men live there during the season in huts. 
The ships bring the whales to the shore and the men they 
cut them up and boil out the oil just like in New England. 
Then when the season is finished and the bad Arctic 
weather come the ships they take the oil and the whale- 
fins to their homelands. The German and the English, 
they do the same thing, but always it is the Dutchmen 
who are the finest whalemen. Before that it was my 
people along the Biscay shore who catch the whale best. 
Then we kill all the whales on our shores and we do not 
prosper. So we go in the ships of other countries and 
show them how it is that we catch the whale.' 

*Is that how you came to sail in a Dutch ship?' asked 

'No; the Dutchmen 'ave learned by then; but it is why 
mon grandpere sail in her,' continued Pierre, 'et mon pere 
aussi, Mais pour moi,^ and he shrugged his broad, bent 
shoulders, T go because it is in the blood of my family to 
hunt whale. In our villages on the Biscay coast a man 
can fish or catch whale. I catch whale. But now I have 
too many years and they say I am good only to cook. So 


I come to the new country but there they say again I have 
too many years to go in the boats. It is a country for the 
young, this America and I send a letter to my three sons 
to come and they will find much to do in the whaleships 
because the whalemen here know so little of how to catch 
the whale.' 

'But surely the New Englanders are experts in the art 
already?' Jonathan interposed. 

'Only on their own beaches,' replied Pierre. 'Perhaps 
you see something of the ships from Europe in these 
Straits, yes? And then you find that the Quaker ship 
you sail in is not such a fine whaler after all. Now fetch 
me some salt pork from that cask and then tell Mr. Macy 
that we shall need some more flour.' 

Jonathan found Macy with a telescope clasped to his 
eye and looking in the same direction the boy saw a line of 
snow covered peaks that were the mountains of Green- 
land. Patches of drifting ice scattered the sea and the 
helmsman was picking a way for the ship between them. 

As often as he could get away from the galley Jonathan 
went on deck watching the ship's progress. 

By the time that the watches changed at midnight the 
coast was in full view in the light of the midnight sun. 
Snow covered all but the lower fringe of that mountainous 
land. It was the month of July and soon the ruthless 
Arctic would repulse the bold invasion of summer and 
cover sea and land alike with a cloak of white that would 
last until May or June of the following year. 

With this knowledge the captain steered his ship 
towards the ice to seek the Greenland whale and fill his 
holds with blubber as quickly as possible. 

Soon the cry of 'Town ho!' sent the men tumbling into 
the boats which had been lowered and towed in readiness. 
They sped across the water and one of the boats quickly 
made fast to one of the whales which swam off along the 
surface with the boat in tow. It reached a large iceberg 


under which it dived for refuge so that the harpooner was 
forced to cut the Hne to save the boat from disaster. 
Though they cruised around the berg for a long while 
neither boat sighted that whale again and the rest of 
the whales had been 'gallied' or frightened and had dis- 
appeared as soon as the first had been struck. 

When they found a school of humpback whales gambol- 
ling around a berg they killed one but the body sank before 
they could bring it to the ship. 

They sighted several big blue whales and finback whales 
but these fellows quickly outdistanced the boats by 
swimming away at great speed. 

So the boats returned to the Pilgrim^ the crews crest- 
fallen at their failure to repeat the success they had made 
of their earlier hunt. 

Taking the craft in tow the Pilgrim cruised between the 
ice and soon found more Greenland whales. But again 
their efforts were thwarted for in addition to running for 
the ice there were other tricks these whales could play. 
Most animals tend to develop defensive tactics if they are 
hunted by man or beasts of prey; such was the case with 
these whales which the ships of Europe had been hunting 
for many decades. One of their disconcerting habits was 
to settle below the surface as the boats approached so that 
although visible to the eye they were invulnerable to the 
harpoon. Then there was the trick of arching their backs 
and presenting an impenetrable target of curiously taut 
blubber to the dismayed harpooner whose iron rebounded 
as it would from a metal shield. At other times an area of 
sea would seem one moment to be swarming with Green- 
land whales and the next they would disappear as if by 
magic. In the open sea it would not have been difficult 
to find them again but among the ice where there were so 
few passages a boat could follow it was almost impossible. 

At last by dint of their persistent eflforts the men of the 
Pilgrim attached both their boats to one and hung on to the 


lines until it broke surface exhausted after a deep dive. 
This one did not escape them and once it was at bay the 
ease with which the monster was despatched seemed 
almost unbelievable. 

The Pilgrim was secured to the ice by means of a special 
anchor in such a way that she was held by the wind in a 
clear patch of open water. The whale was taken in tow 
by the two boats and in line ahead the procession made 
at a very slow pace for the ship, for even the combined 
power of ten oars and two sails could make but little 
impression on sixty- five tons of dead whale. 

Gutting in commenced at once and this proved much 
easier with the ship in the shelter of the ice than it had 
been in mid-ocean and by the end of the day all the 
blubber was stowed in the barrels and the bundles of 
whalebone in the hold where they would await a more 
leisurely period before being scraped and cleaned. On 
this occasion the whale's tongue was not stolen by the 
killers and provided a valuable yield of blubber. 

In the clear Arctic air the scent of meat soon reached 
the keen nostrils of several polar bears which usually feed 
on seals. They came lumbering over the floes and 
swimming through the water that divided them. When 
these creatures ventured too near the boats Macy the 
mate was forced to scare them off with musket shot but 
they continued to linger expectantly on the nearby floes 
and eventually he took one of the boats on an expedition 
in which Jonathan proudly pulled an oar and carried 
Macy's spare musket. When they had killed two bears 
and scared off the rest Jonathan caught sight of an 
animal that looked like a fierce overgrown seal with 
long tusks and at once Macy ordered the boat into 

Tt is a sea morse,' said Macy, 'and I'll have his hide as 
soon as you chummies can row me to him.' 

He landed on the floe and with Jonathan bringing up 

Jonathan prvudlTf 
carried (Macys spare musket 


the rear with the spare musket he was able to approach 
and kill the walrus with one shot. 

Jonathan ran to where the animal lay and together he 
and Macy stood looking down at the curiously formed 
body with its tusks in the upper jaw and its four flippers 
that were neither quite feet nor fins. 

'Did you ever see a creature less able to make up its 
mind whether to be a four-footed land animal or a fluke- 
tailed whale?' chuckled Macy. 

'His tail flippers are not nearly so like the flukes of a 
whale as those of seals,' remarked Jonathan examining 
the dead animal very closely. 

Macy threw a quizzical look towards the boy. 'That is 
very true, lad,' he said, 'and uncommonly observant of 
you.' He would have been less surprised had he known 
that Jonathan was in the habit of making careful 
drawings in his diary of all the creatures he saw on the 

'Look!' cried the man, 'there's another swimming 
through the water. Listen to his puffing. Hand me a 
musket, lad, for I do believe he intends to present himself 
as a target.' 

The walrus clambered awkwardly on to the far side of 
the floe and waddled across the ice. Macy's gun went off 
and the animal fell dead. 

'Now men,' he said, 'set to work and flay these carcasses 
for the hide will plait us some fine ropes and we'll fill a 
barrel or two with his blubber.' 

The smell of flesh attracted more polar bears and as 
soon as the walruses were stripped the expedition re- 
treated to the boat and left the bears to devour the 

The Pilgrim was already under way when the boat 
returned, for the ice had begun to close in around her. 
On board the last of the casks were being sent down the 
hatchway to the hold. Jonathan and Joseph joined in 


helping to scrub the decks and were glad of the oppor- 
tunity to talk with each other after the excitement of the 
day but Jonathan noticed that his friend's manner was 
much more subdued than usual and he instinctively 
associated the change with the dreaded person of Sykes. 
At once his own only too familiar uneasiness of mind 
returned and for a while the two friends scrubbed in 

Then among the others working at the far end of the 
deck Jonathan saw Sykes straighten his back from the 
scrubbing. In the jnan's eyes there was a furtiveness that 
betrayed his ill-concealed fear, and when they looked at 
the boy they were full of utter hate. 

Joseph's silence was unusual. He was always so ready 
to talk and so gay in his manner. It occurred to Jonathan 
that his friend was concealing something from him. 

'Tell me, Joseph,' he murmured softly, 'something has 
happened, has it not?' 

'Yes,' replied Joseph, 'but wait until we can be alone.' 

When the scrubbing was finished they went to the ship's 
bows and pretended to be looking at some dolphins that 
were frolicking near some floes. 

'I know now,' said Joseph, as they leant on the bul- 
warks, 'what it is that has troubled you for so long. Last 
night Chimoo awakened me and we stood by your ham- 
mock listening to you talking in your sleep. Your words 
were disjointed but they told Chimoo that which he has 
long suspected — that Sykes murdered his brother.' 

'Chimoo's brother!' cried Jonathan in astonishment. 

'Yes, of course. I thought you knew that,' said 

'I only knew that he was an Indian. Does Sykes know 
about my talking in my sleep ?' 

'No, he was on watch and Chimoo and I were the only 
ones who heard. Chimoo will say nothing to him yet 
because we heard you mumbling something about Sykes 


feeding you to the gulls if you break your vow. It is 
obvious from Sykes' manner that he is in constant fear 
that you will tell the Indians ; so use great caution, Jona- 
than, not to reveal anything in your looks and do not 
be afraid, for Chimoo and I will never be far from 
your side.' 


The Ship Imprisoned 

THE Pilgrim's cargo of blubber was now almost complete 
and many a whaling master would at this point have 
contented himself with his catch and sailed for home, 
stopping on the way perhaps to hunt seal and fill the 
remaining space with pelts; but thrift and thoroughness 
were the watchwords of this Quaker captain and he was 
determined that those twenty-odd empty casks that lay in 
the hold should be filled with blubber before his ship 
sailed out of the ice. So he pointed her nose eastward 
and brought her closer than she had yet been to the Green- 
land shore. Between the bergs and the floes she sailed 
in bright sparkling sunshine with every man on deck and 
aloft looking out for the spouts of whale. 

Captain Slocum had not long to wait for the words he 
wanted to hear. 

The sharp-eyed Joseph Mather, perched on the cross- 
trees, bellowed the call to action this time. 

'Town ho! She blows, she blows!' 

'Where away?' hailed the captain. 

'Two points on the starboard bow, sir. About a mile 
and a half away, but the other side of the ice.' 

'Keep thine eyes glued to them, Mather, and I will find 
a passage through,' called the captain. 

He took the ship into the first channel that led through 


the vast area of pack ice and brought her to where the 
whales had been sighted. 

'Where are they, Mather, where are the whales thou 
sawest?' cried the captain, angry at finding nothing there 
but a few seals clustered on a floe. 

'He come to them much too quick,' whispered old 
Pierre in Jonathan's ear. 'The ship, she frighten the wise 
old fellows and they dive under the ice.' 

'Gone to earth, eh?' said Jonathan, but the phrase was 
wasted on Pierre. 

An hour later there was still no sign of whale and the 
company had settled down to the workaday chores of 
ship's routine. 

In the small foul-smelling galley Jonathan was cutting 
up some whalemeat for supper. Pierre was away in 
another part of the ship and when behind him there came 
the sound of someone entering the boy thought quite 
naturally that it was the cook returning; but when he 
turned he saw, leaning against the closed door, the large 
figure of Nathaniel Sykes. 

Jonathan faced the man squarely enough but his knees 
suddenly felt very weak. 

Sykes broke the silence that followed. 'You've been 
talking, I know you 'ave.' He still leaned heavily with his 
back against the door. 

'I have not broken my vow of silence if that is your 
meaning,' replied Jonathan with beating heart. 

'That Indian friend of yours knows something,' the 
deep guttural voice insisted. 

'Nothing that I have told him.' Jonathan fought to 
keep his voice from trembling. 

Sykes lurched towards the boy and with the door no 
longer supporting him he was unsteady on his feet. 
Jonathan caught the smell of rum. 

'You lie,' growled Sykes. 

Jonathan felt for the knife that he knew lay upon the 


table behind him, but a horny hand gripped him by the 
collar and pulled him away. 

'You told Chimoo. I've seen it in the way 'e looks 
at me. You broke your promise to old Nat, did you 

'No, no!' Jonathan cried. 

The grip on his throat tightened. Then through the 
mist that was covering his eyes he saw the door open 
behind Sykes. A long brown arm went round the man's 
neck and the choking sensation in his own throat 
suddenly ceased. As he collapsed on the deck of the 
galley he heard as if far away the thud of a man's weight 
against a bulkhead. His head cleared and the mist 
passed from his eyes. He sat up and saw in the passage- 
way outside the tall figure of Chimoo standing with 
tomahawk in hand over the half-stunned figure of Sykes. 

'You plenty bad white man,' the Indian was saying in 
a deep fierce voice. 'You bring bad liquor to Injun 
village and many strong braves grow sick and go to meet 
Injun gods. Then one Injun brave tell bad white man 
go 'way from village and you bad white man killem.' 

At last Jonathan knew why Sykes had committed that 
foul crime and he listened apprehensively as the Indian 
continued his condemnation. 

'You bad white man afraid Injun tribe know who killed 
their brave and you sign on Pilgrim. You sleep with 
much liquor inside you and when you wake up you find 
Chimoo brother of dead Injun and then you more scared. 
But Chimoo still not sure and wait for more signs. Then 
Injun god visit white boy in sleep and makem tell Chimoo 
who kill brother. He say you bad white man, you killem 
and you kill white boy too if he speak. Chimoo no can 
take bad man Sykes to shore and fight him like true 
brave. Injun god say Chimoo kill bad man now!' and 
Chimoo raised his tomahawk. 

Sykes rolled over in an attempt to avoid the blow. 


*No, no!' cried Jonathan leaping to his feet, horrified 
at what was about to happen. 

But now Joseph was thrusting himself between the two 
men and down the companionway came Mr. Macy and 
several men who had heard the sound of Chimoo's angry 
voice. They pulled the struggling Indian away from 

'What in the name of St. Christopher is going on down 
here?' roared Macy; but before anyone could make a 
reply there came from above a call from the lookout. 

'Town ho! She blows again. She blo-o-o-o-ows!' 

'On deck with the lot of you!' roared Macy. 'We'll 
sort out this affair when we've dealt with those whales.' 

With the dazed Sykes bringing up the rear everyone 
climbed to the upper deck where men were already clam- 
bering over the side into the whaleboats. Away to star- 
board Greenland whales were sending up their white 
fountains. Even the sober-minded captain was elated at 
the sight of so many whales. 

'Oh, for a ship ten times the size of this cockle-shell!' he 
cried. 'I would fill her holds with blubber and all our 
pockets with gold. Away with thee, men, and catch me 
just one and we'll barely have room for that. Move thy 
sluggish body, Sykes, and take thy place in the boat or I 
will send that boy in thy stead. Move, I say. Move 
man, move!' 

As Jonathan watched the boats depart his mind raced 
with wild conjectures of what would happen now that his 
secret was out. He shivered in the biting wind which 
had sprung up during the past few hours. Looking 
upwards he watched grey clouds racing low and eastwards 
for the Greenland shore. Ice was bumping the ship's 
hull as she cruised under shortened sail in the rising sea. 
Away to windward the ice floes stretched as far as the eye 
could see. 

He watched the boats pick their way to the nearest 


whales and saw one of them quickly made fast without 
delay. It was Todd's boat and seated at one of the oars 
was Sykes, his quarrels forgotten for the time in the all- 
absorbing task of hunting the whale. 

The whale sounded at once and the line went down at 
a steep angle so that Todd was forced to let it run freely 
around the loggerhead. 

Soon Todd called out to Macy's boat in which Chimoo 
was about to cast his harpoon at another whale and Macy 
came alongside and bent his own whale-line on to the end 
of Todd's; and not a second too soon. The last of Todd's 
line whipped out of its tub and now it was Macy's boat 
which was attached to the whale. 

They did not know that a 'gallied' Greenland whale 
would take as much as eight hundred fathom of line and 
both crews waited tensely as the second two hundred and 
fifty fathoms length of hemp rope was taken out of the 
boat and down into the green depths. But unlike the 
deep-feeding sperm whale the Greenlander was not fitted 
to remain long in the enormous pressure of those extreme 
depths and when to the great relief of the whalemen the 
line ceased to run o" t it was not very long before Macy's 
men were hauling in hand over hand. 

Over Jonathan's head the wind howled through the 
rigging as it steadily rose to gale force. Captain Slocum 
looked anxiously away from the boats to windward. The 
ice was drifting in more thickly than ever, past the 
Pilgrim which was now almost hove to and tov/ards the 
boats which pitched and tossed in the choppy sea. 

Macy's men were still hauling and nearby Todd's boat 
waited for the chance to be in at the kill when the whale 
broke surface. High upon the small bow platform stood 
Todd himself, lance poised and ready for the climax. 

Then to his great surprise Jonathan saw Todd reel 
backwards. The boat's prow was lifted suddenly from the 
sea by the vast power of the breaching whale which shot 


Upwards, head, shoulders and belly clear of the water, 
carrying the shattered craft upon its snout. Then, as the 
upward momentum of the monster spent itself, it fell back 
on to the water with a confusion of splintered timbers, 
oars and men spilling from it like confetti. 

'Cut the line!' shouted Macy. Chimoo's knife went 
through in one sweep and Macy steered his boat to the 
rescue of his stricken shipmates. 

Then a veil of driving snow shut off the scene from those 
on the deck of the Pilgrim. The captain, concerned now 
as much for the safety of his ship as for those in the boats, 
pointed her closer to the wind and edged her away from 
the ice that was now massing dangerously along the coast 
under the force of the gale. 

For the first time there came to Jonathan the full 
realisation of the immense responsibilities that rested upon 
the shoulders of his commander. For a brief second 
he saw himself upon that poop-deck and the question 
flashed through his mind of how he would behave in such 
a situation if he were in command. 

The snow shower passed and he saw, more distant now, 
Macy's boat picking Todd's men from a small area of 
ice-fringed water. Three figures stood separately on the 
surrounding floes beckoning for help ; but the men in the 
water were in greater danger; for around the whale that 
remained spouting upon the surface with the harpoon 
still sticking from its side Jonathan saw the killer whales, 
attracted by the scent of a stricken prey. At the first attack 
the whale, his lungs now replenished with air, humped 
his back, flipped his tail and disappeared. Some of the 
killers followed in pursuit but a few remained to investi- 
gate the strange scent of Man that still lingered in their 
waters ; but by now all the men were safely out of the sea 
and only the three on the ice awaited rescue. 

One was reached without difficulty but floes separated 
the other two from their would-be rescuers and they tried 


again and again to reach the boat by leaping from one 
floe to another only to lind that the ice at the edges, still 
soft from the warmth of summer, would not support their 
weight. Then Macy drove his boat's bow into the edge 
of the ice and one of his men with some difficulty landed on 
a floe that fringed the pool and with all the weight of the 
wind to help him cast a line to the nearest of the two men 
who was soon safely in the boat. Only one man remained 
and it was not until then that Jonathan recognised the 
distant figure as that of Sykes. 

Again a blanket of snow covered the scene from the five 
men and the boy watching anxiously on the deck of the 
Pilgrim. When it lifted a little they saw to seaward an 
endless barrier of white ice lying low upon the sea. 

'Larboard thy helm!' the captain ordered. 

'Ease her!' 


With her nose to the southward the little ship sailed 
through an ever-narrowing channel formed on the one 
hand by the ice that had packed against the shore and on 
the other by that which was advancing from the westward. 
To the problem of getting the whaleboat safely back to the 
ship was now added that of finding a passage through or 
around the approaching ice to the open sea that could be 
seen beyond. 

As the ship reached southward the whaleboat was once 
more hidden from their view by the driving snow. 

The lane of water narrowed until the ice on either side 
joined to form a cul-de-sac; The Pilgrim wore round and 
bore away to the northward and her tall captain bade his 
men come to the poop-deck where he knelt with them and 
prayed for God's guidance and protection in that difficult 
hour. As they listened with bowed heads to the words of 
their captain the boy stole glances at the men around him. 
His eyes roamed from the erect figure of the helmsman 
tensely gripping the tiller and peering ahead, to the two 


older whalemen and to old Pierre who knelt beside him 
muttering in French; and then on his other side to the 
captain whom he had thought nothing could ever humble. 
He closed his own eyes and the deep chanting tones of the 
voice beside him became only a background for his own 
personal prayer. 

Suddenly and sharply the helmsman's voice rang out, 
'Captain, sir, look!' 

They all rose to their feet. In the direction of the 
helmsman's pointing finger they saw in the distance a 
great fissure opening in the ice on the landward side and 
heard the roar of floe crushing against floe. 

An area of the vast white desert that reached out from 
the Greenland shore was swinging independently of the 
rest, pivoting at some point in the greater distance, and 
propelled by an unseen natural power of wind or current. 
On one edge of the ever widening V-shaped gap stood the 
lone figure of Sykes; on the other, twisting and turning 
among the tormented floes, the whaleboat was fighting to 
get into more open water. Then as they watched, the 
ice on which Sykes stood detached itself quite suddenly 
from the main mass and bore him slowly towards the 
centre of the gap. Around him on the same floe three 
seals lay apparently quite unconcerned. 

Captain Slocum pointed his ship in the direction of the 
stranded man. Macy and his men still strove to free 
their boat. Even Chimoo, in the bows, was fiercely 
thrusting at the floes with his oar in helping to get clear. 
The better qualities of men were rising above their hates 
and enmities to meet the challenge of the greater forces of 

Then, at the edge of the floe on which Sykes stood, a 
large, black and white shape appeared ; it rested there for 
an instant and its weight tilted the floe at an angle that 
sent the man sprawling and two of the seals sliding into 
the sea. 


*Those are killers!' cried one of the men in the Pilgrim 
as two more black and white heads emerged from the 
water and depressed the rim of the floe to send the third 
seal sliding to a quick death. Sykes sprawled to within 
a few feet of the edge but recovered his hold as the floe 
settled back to the horizontal. 

The whaleboat had got clear by now and was heading 
towards him and the Pilgrim was entering the wide V- 
shaped fissure in the ice. As the two converged towards 
the same point the killers made a mass assault on the floe ; 
it tilted steeply and the man's last cry for help was cut 
short as he slid into the cold green sea. There was a 
flurry of black fins cutting the surface and sleek black and 
white shapes darting through the green spume-flecked 
sea; then nothing but the floe rising and falHng on the long 
undulating swell remained to mark the spot where the 
drama had taken place. 

'The Lord rest his soul!' murmured the captain but the 
rest of the men and the boy watching from the Pilgrim's 
deck were too stricken with horror to speak. 

In Jonathan horror slowly gave way to an involuntary 
feeling of relief as he became conscious of a great burden 
being lifted from his aching soul. 

The battered whaleboat limped towards its mother 

'Waste no time, Mr. Macy!' hailed the captain as he 
brought the ship into the wind. 'The ice is closing in 

As Chimoo cHmbed over the side of the ship he met 
Jonathan standing with tears rolling down his young 
cheeks. The big Indian put an arm around the boys' 

'Bad man finish now,' he said. 'Injun god send him to 
other hunting ground.' 

The drenched, shivering men were helped aboard. In 
the forecastle a cask of rum was broached at the captain's 


command and for a while at least they found comfort in 
the realisation that they were safe in the ship again. 

Soon, however, the word spread that new dangers 
awaited them and those who had sufficiently recovered 
climbed to the upper deck again and gazed with dread 
upon the endless stretch of pack ice that obstructed the 
ship's escape to the open waters beyond. 

In the hope of finding the northern flank of his enemy 
Captain Slocum now sailed his ship northward through 
the ever narrowing lane of water; but it soon became 
evident that here too there was no escape. Once more he 
found the ice on either hand converging towards an impass- 
able cul-de-sac. 

He brought his imprisoned vessel to the centre of the 
long crescent-shaped pool and tacked her to and fro in the 
howling gale in the hope that the wind might drop and 
halt the remorseless advance of the dense barrier of pack 
ice or that a gap might form that would lead the ship to 
safety. Once more he bade his men kneel in prayer. 
When they arose to their feet there was barely sailing 
room in the narrow pool. 

One forlorn hope remained. Giving his ship all the 
canvas she could carry he put her on a close-hauled tack 
and drove her into the advancing ice barrier. 

A steam vessel of later centuries would in all probability 
have forced her way through but the Pilgrim possessed 
only the power of her sails. Though her men strove 
valiantly with spars to push the ice from her path the time 
came when further progress was impossible. 

Locked in the ice she awaited her fate. 


The Rescue 

BUT FOR AN unexpectedly early onset of winter in the 
Davis Straits during that late July the ice that held the 
Pilgrim in its grip might well have dispersed sufficiently for 
the little whaler to gain the open water; but the falling 
temperature caused the massed floes to freeze together into 
a solid area of ice that completely covered the sea as far as 
the distant Greenland shore to the eastward and for several 
miles out into the Straits to the westward. 

As the days passed the ship's timbers bent inwards 
under the merciless pressure of ice and all hope of saving 
her was slowly abandoned. 

The blizzard passed and the low sun shone on a desert of 
dazzling white. 

Alongside the brave, shattered little whaler that had 
now become almost obscured by a mantle of snow the 
gaunt-faced Quaker captain gathered his men around 

'My friends,' he began in a voice that was now tinged 
with humbleness, 'we have ventured beyond the limits 
that God intended and He has ordained that we shall 
forsake this ship and all the fruits of our recent labours. 
We must repair the boat and fit her with sledges,' and 
turning to the diminutive second mate he said, 'That will 
be the task of thy watch, Mr. Todd.' Then, addressing 



himself to his stalwart first officer, 'And thy watch, Mr. 
Macy, shall be responsible for the removal of stores from 
the ship and the loading of them into the whaleboat. 
Take food, muskets and ammunition and enough sailcloth 
to make tents. We shall need some whale blubber for 
fuel and light and also to make smoke signals, and a few 
casks of rum to keep us warm. With God's help I hope 
that we shall reach the edge of the ice where it meets the 
sea. There we should sight the foreign whalers sailing out 
of the Arctic for it is still July and there should be many 
not yet returned to Europe. Take courage, my friends, 
for the good Lord is with us in our trials.' 

When, after several hours, the preparations were 
completed he called them around him once more and 
bade them kneel in prayer. 

Then, refreshed with new spiritual strength they arose 
and set their faces to the westward to meet the ordeal that 
they knew awaited them. 

Jonathan pulled tight the cord of the canvas bag in 



which amongst the few other personal possessions and a 
quantity of food lay the tattered diary, now more precious 
to him than ever. It also held the small brass crucifix and 
the copy of Bunyan's Country Rimes for Boys and Girls which 
he had never found time to read. 

He slung the bag over his shoulder and with one last 
sad look at the doomed ship still flying her tattered New 
England flag he took his place in the single line of men 
following in the tracks of the whaleboat which on its 
improvised sledge runners was already moving off as 
a dozen men hauled at the two lines that had been 
attached for that purpose. 

By the next day the blue-green line of the sea was well 
within sight but down from the north moved a line of five 
huge icebergs which, propelled southward by the currents 
that flowed under the ice, crashed their way through the 
white desert like giants breasting the thin covering on a 
frozen pool. 

Unless the expedition could pass ahead of the oncoming 


bergs its path to the sea would be cut off by the Hne of 
broken ice left in the path of that line of giants. 

Fatigued by many hours of arduous travel with little rest 
and half blinded by the glare of the snow the party 
increased its pace in a desperate race to the sea. 

Snow began to fall and soon the bergs were hidden from 
their view. Only the direction of the ever increasing 
roar of crushing ice could now tell them whether their race 
would be won. 

Now the sound was almost directly on their right and so 
loud that they knew that the next few minutes would 
decide their fate. 

Jonathan and Joseph joined with the others who were 
not pulUng upon the sledge ropes and pushed at the boat 
with strength that comes only from great fear. 

Two men who had become lame with frostbite fell 
behind the main body of the expedition and as the deafen- 
ing roar approached its climax two others ran back 
through the blizzard to help them. 

Those ahead toiled onwards ignorant of the fate of their 
four comrades and not until the noise behind them began 
to recede into the distance did they stop to rest their weary 
bodies. It was the boy among them who first noticed 
that the men were missing. He had been concerned for 
the faihng strength of old Pierre and after he had lain 
exhausted in the snow for a while he sat up and looked 
about him. Thinking that the old cook might be one of 
the many dim shapes in the snow around him he crawled 
from one recumbent figure to another. He found the 
captain seated on the snow with his head on his chest. 

'Captain, sir,' murmured the boy, T think that old 
Pierre and some others are missing.' 

Captain Slocum raised his head wearily and his blood- 
shot eyes regarded the boy with a certain gentleness of 
expression that Jonathan had not noticed in his captain 


*Thank 'ee, lad, I will take a party back to look for 

'May I be one, sir?' 

'Thou art a brave lad, Oakley, and thou has a sharp eye 
so fetch thy friends Chimoo and young Mather quickly for 
I hear another berg approaching.' 

The captain led his party back along the tracks that 
were already almost obliterated by snow till they came to 
broken ice that the berg had left in its wake and could go 
no further. Though they shouted into the blizzard and 
searched left and right they neither heard nor found any 
sign of their four comrades. 

*We can stay no longer,' shouted the captain but 
his words were drowned by the increasing roar of 
the next berg and he signalled with his arm for them to 

When, many minutes later the search party returned, 
they found that the boat was already on the move as the 
sound of fresh danger grew louder. 

Onwards through the blizzard again they drove their 
numbed and frozen bodies, until suddenly the foremost 
man on one of the hauling lines fell through the ice and 
the party halted. 

The man was hauled to safety but it was at once evident 
that they were nearing the edge of the ice; so they 
returned a short distance along their tracks and made 
camp. Tents were improvised from old sailcloth, snow 
was melted over a blubber fire to make a warming brew 
of rum. Jonathan tasted this spirit for the first time and 
though he hated its taste it sent a welcome glow of 
warmth through him and helped him to eat the salted 
beef and dry tack that followed. Then Chimoo, Jonathan 
and Joseph crawled into the tiny tent that the Indian had 
erected and with Jonathan in the middle the three fell 
asleep hugging each other for mutual warmth. 

How long he slept Jonathan never knew but he awoke to 


the sound of excited voices outside the tent in which he 
now found himself alone. 

He pulled his stiff aching body into the open. A 
watery sun shone over a world of white and the glare hurt 
his eyes. 

The men were standing round the fire which was send- 
ing up a column of black smoke and some were pointing 
towards the blue stretch of sea that lay only a few hundred 
yards away. 

The boy joined them and found that they were watching 
a line of ships that were sailing southward in line ahead 
along the horizon ; they were tall square-rigged ships with 
three masts and high sterns ; they were the ships of which 
the captain had spoken; and they were now the one means 
of escape from the Arctic for the band of New England 
whalemen standing on the fringe of the ice. 

'Keep that fire going, Mr. Macy,' cried the captain. 
*Throw on anything that will make smoke. These may 
be the last of the ships bound out of the Arctic' 

Slowly the eight ships moved along the horizon and the 
hearts of the watching whalemen became faint with the 
fear that their signal would not be seen. 

Then the line of ships altered course not directly towards 
them but in the direction of a group of bergs that floated 
near the edge of the ice to the southward and on their 
left hand. 

'I would hazard that they have sighted whale around 
those bergs,' said Macy, 'and if they can see the white 
spout of a whale there is no reason why they should not 
see the black spout of our fire. Pile on some more fuel, 
my chummies, for I'll have a column of smoke that will 
catch their eyes if I have to give you every piece of cloth 
I stand in.' 

'And I could not be any colder,' said one of the men, 'so 
you can have mine too,' and he threw his sealskin hat 
upon the fire. 


They watched with anxious eyes as the ships manoeuvred 
through a group of icebergs. Then suddenly from the 
leading ship came a puff of smoke and in a few seconds 
they heard the sound of a cannon rumbling through the 
crisp air. 

'They have seen us!' cried one and at once a hoarse 
cheer went up from the ragged little group. 

The commodore of the fleet now bore in their direction 
followed by three other ships from the line. 

Soon boats were seen being lowered from the sterns of 
the vessels which now lay to the wind while their craft 
approached the ice. 

'Haul away on the boat, lads,' cried Macy, 'for we'll 
never make the edge of this cursed ice without it. Rope 
yourselves together in two lines on either side. You 
Oakley, jump into the boat.' 

'With your permission, Mr. Macy. I'll join with the 
others,' said Jonathan. 

'Have it your way, son, but don't let go of the gunwale 
of that boat because if you fall into this water it'll freeze 
your blood solid in a few minutes.' 

Jonathan roped himself between Joseph and Chimoo 
and slung his canvas bag into the boat. They pulled 
the boat over the floes and when they came to gaps 
between them they launched it, paddled it across still on 
its sledge runners and hauled it up on to the next one. 
Never had the lightness of the American whaleboat been 
so appreciated as it was then by the men of the Pilgrim. 

They reached the edge of the ice without losing another 
single man. 

As he tumbled into one of the waiting Dutch boats 
Jonathan heard words spoken in a foreign tongue and 
felt strong arms enclose him. A beaker touched his lips 
and a fiery liquid trickled down his throat and set his 
stomach on fire. His head touched the hard boards on 
the floor of a boat and then he knew no more. 


The Dutch Whaler. 

WHEN JONATHAN awokc from the long deep sleep of utter 
exhaustion he found that he was lying in a hammock 
under the massive deck beams of a forecastle that was 
much bigger than the tiny one he had known in the 
Pilgrim. Hearing a familiar voice he peered over the 
edge of the canvas and recognised with a surge of joy 
the figures of Joseph and Chimoo silhouetted against the 
light of a lantern standing on the mess table. He tried 
to lower himself to the deck but fell back when he found 
that he could not summon the strength. 

At the sound of the boy stirring Joseph arose and came 
to the side of the hammock. He moved slowly and pain- 
fully for his limbs were still stiff and sore from the recent 

'Hello, Jonathan,' he said, 'how do you feel ?' 

'A little weak, Joseph, I fear. But what of the rest of 
the crew? Where are they?' 

'They were picked up by boats from other ships. Only 
Chimoo and ourselves were brought to this vessel.' 

Suddenly Jonathan remembered his diary. 

'My bag, my canvas bag!' he cried anxiously. 'Where 
is it?' 

'Never fear, Jonathan. When we reached the edge of 
the ice you took it from the boat and clung to it Uke a 


mother to her child. Here it is on the deck below you; 
a little wet perhaps, but all there just the same.' 

He opened the bag and spread the contents to dry upon 
the deck. 

*Thank you, Joseph,' said Jonathan. 'But tell me 
about this ship in which we find ourselves.' 

'When I have brought you some food I will. You must 
eat first.' 

As Jonathan munched hungrily at salted pork and 
hard tack Joseph told him about the ship. 

'She is the Der Browery of Hoorn and she is one of a 
fleet of nearly a hundred Dutch whalers working in the 
Davis Straits this season. She is about four hundred 
tons and carries at least six whale boats and she has a 
hold big enough to contain the blubber of many whales. 
She spends the summer in the Arctic and then returns to 
Holland to boil the blubber in the try-works there. I 
have learned this much from one of the crew who speaks 
English but there are many new things we shall see when 
we are able to go to the upper deck.' 

Joseph climbed with some difficulty into the hammock 
next to Jonathan's. 

'Yes,' said Jonathan. 'I remember poor old Pierre 
telling me how expert the Dutch whalemen are. But 
what are the chances of our returning to New England 
now that we are in a Dutchman?" 

'Poor, I fear, seeing that the Pilgrim was probably the 
only American vessel to visit the Arctic this summer,' 
replied Joseph, 'but perhaps we shall be transferred to one 
of the English whalers of which I know there are a few 

After another full day's rest Jonathan and Joseph 
ventured to the spacious upper deck of the Der Browery. 
They looked aloft with wonder at her three tall masts 
and gazed with awe upon the features of this massive ship 
against which their beloved little Pilgrim would have 

7k&^t4Uh Whalers 


seemed but a mere shallop; and all around them the sea 
and sky was patterned with the shapes of similar vessels 
whose tall hulls and delicate traceries of masts and 
rigging stood out in sharp relief against the white and 
blue background. 

The ships of this great fleet all lay to ice-anchors dug 
into the floes, which, having six-sevenths of their bulk 
below the sea were very little affected by the force of the 
winds compared with the ships. 

'Look, Jonathan!' cried Joseph. 'That big armed 
vessel there ! She must be the commodore that fired the 
cannon. She appears more suited to fighting than 

'Yes, none of the others have gunports,' said Jonathan, 
and he followed Joseph on an eager inspection of the 
Der Browerys upper deck. 

'What can that be ?' asked the younger lad pointing to 
a huge wooden beam that lay horizontally across the poop- 
deck and jutted out over each quarter. 

'Perhaps it is used to hoist and lower the whaleboats,' 
suggested Joseph. He leant out from the ship's side. 
'Yes, there is a large tackle with a hook on the lower block 
hanging from the end of the beam. And there is a boat 
moored under the stern with rings in the bow and stern 
to take the hooks; but I can only see one tackle — no, 
there is the other in the mizzen rigging.' 

Joseph's deductions were, in fact, correct. The large 
fixed beam or shear as it was called was actually the fore- 
runner of the cranes or davits that came at a later date 
in the evolution of whaleships. 

'Do you suppose, Joseph, that these Dutchmen chase 
the whale in that clumsy shallop?' asked Jonathan. 

He pointed to the craft under the stern. 

The only noticeable feature in common with the 
American whaleboat was that it was double-ended. With 
its shorter length, broader beam and heavier construction 


it looked indeed a cumbersome craft to manoeuvre in a 
whale hunt. The reason, of course, was that it did not 
share with the American whaleboat the advantage of 
having an Indian canoe for an ancestor. The New 
Englanders might still be only on the threshold of deep-sea 
whaling but they took with them in their little sloops 
boats that were much more highly developed for whale 
hunting than those of the European whalemen. 

Tt is fitted with gear for hunting,' replied Joseph, 'so 
I can only assume that it is one of their whaleboats, though 
I find it difficult to believe. Do you notice how the 
loggerhead is in the bows and not in the stern?' 

'Yes, it is just an extension of the stempiece,' replied 

Then from across the water there came a new strange 

'Val! Va-a-a-al!' 

The call echoed through the fleet as one ship after 
another took up the cry. 

Only about a half-mile from the Der Browery bowheads 
were shooting their tall crystal fountains into the air. 

The Greenland whales were not gregarious creatures 
but on this occasion as so often happened the yellowish 
streams of minute sea creatures known as brit on which 
they fed had drawn them together in search of food. 
With their wide opened mouths forming caverns each big 
enough to admit a horse and cart they scooped up many 
tons of water containing these myriad minute Crustacea. 
Then the great jaws would shut with a snap and the 
water would be forced from the corners of their mouths 
by the piston action of their tongues and the tiny sea 
creatures strained off by the curtains of hair-covered 
whalebone as if by giant shrimping nets. 

Jaws opening, scooping, shutting and all the while 
from their close-set twin blowholes sending up their single 
tall spouts, the whales swam down the wind and between 


the floes till it seemed they must charge straight into the 
large floe to which the Der Browery was anchored. But the 
school divided and as they passed on either side of the ship 
the shallop, now manned by seven blond Dutchmen, 
pulled away from under the stern and attacked the flank 
of a big cow whale even whilst her mouth was still wide 
agape. At the prick of the first iron, snap went the jaws, 
up went her tail and in a second she had sounded. As if 
by magic the other fifteen whales disappeared from sight 
leaving only the squat shallop to hold the stage. 

Over her bows the line ran out rapidly and the linesman 
standing by his loggerhead could only stand and watch it 
uncoiling first from one and then from the other of the 
two tubs; but as the speed slowed he took a turn and 
checked it a little using pads of sailcloth to protect his 

On the high poop-deck of the Der Browery the Dutch 
whaling master cupped his hands and shouted orders in the 
direction of a small berg. Looking in that direction, 
which was on the opposite beam, the lads saw four shallops 
in line ahead, attached bow to stern by short ropes. 
They were towing a dead Greenland whale to the ship 
but at the captain's order the lines were cast oflf from the 
three foremost craft and they joined their comrade whose 
linesman was now hauling in on the whale line. 

The whale surfaced and was soon despatched and 
brought to the ship's stern where it was moored to await 
its turn for cutting. 

The other whale was brought to the starboard side 
where a long gap in the bulwarks always remained open 
during the period of catching whales. 

With a speed born of long experience some of the Dutch- 
men who wore spikes on the heels of their boots climbed 
on to the whale and removed the tongue and cut out the 
lips. These alone would be boiled down to a dozen 
barrels in the try- works at Hoorn. Then the crownpieces 


from which hung the two sets of three hundred black 
whale fins, were cut out in sections and brought on 
deck. With these preliminaries completed the Dutch- 
men proceeded with the main task of stripping the 
blubber. The windlass creaked; the Dutchmen swore; 
the ship careened as the mainmast felt the fifty-ton weight 
on its cutting tackle ; the blubber shd into the hold and the 
decks ran with oil and blood. The mates bellowed orders 
and the flocks of hungry sea-birds quarrelled in plaintive 
tones. The stripped carcass was released from its 
chains and sank from sight into the green depths; the 
next whale was brought to the side, the stage was set 
and the players repeated their performance. 

Sometimes it was a humpback whale that was brought 
to the ship and then every available boat had to lend its 
buoyancy to supporting the carcass that might otherwise 
have sunk. And once it was a twenty-four-foot baby blue 
whale that had failed to swim away with its mother from 

Day after day the hunting, the kilHng and the stripping 
continued, the fleet of ships stopping only to spread its 
sails and move southwards as the season shortened and 
winter threatened. Somewhere hundreds of miles to the 
northward lay the httle Pilgrim that the lads would never 
see again. And in the harbour town of Sherburne, later 
known as Nantucket, women wept for sons and husbands 
who did not return. 


The English Whalers 

BY THE BEGINNING of August the Dutch whaling fleet had 
been driven by the advancing ice fringe to the southern 
tip of Greenland. 

As whales became more scarce in those lower latitudes 
those ships with full cargoes of blubber were ordered by 
the commodore to proceed to one of the fiords and take 
on water and then to return to Holland. 

A cold north wind was blowing as the Der Browery took 
up her station in the homeward-bound line of ships. 
Jonathan and Joseph in their white coats made from the 
fur of polar bears counted nine ships in the line and 
speculated upon how many of their companions might 
be making the passage in them. 

To the westward they watched a flotilla of heavy Ger- 
man whaleships running under shortened sail before the 
wind for Cape Farewell. In a few weeks those ships 
would be discharging their cargoes in the port of Bremen 
or Hamburg. 

The shrill note of a bosun's pipe called the lads to the 
midday meal and they joined the watch at the long table 
in the forecastle. Chimoo was there already sipping his 


hot soup and keeping a place on either side of him for 
each of the lads. 

As the trio stood by the galley door waiting for the cook 
to fill their plates with boiled cod they heard the sound of 
a distant cannon. 

'Engelsmen!' muttered one of the Dutchmen and leav- 
ing his plate on the mess table he scrambled up the com- 
panionway with a dozen others behind him. Jonathan 
was last to reach the upper deck but he was just in time to 
to see the splash of a second cannon ball as it fell across 
the bows of the leading ship which was nosing her way 
close-hauled into the entrance of a broad ice-free fiord. 
As the Der Browery rounded the protecting headland the 
Dutch crew swore and waved their clenched fists at two 
ships which now came into sight. They were fine tall 
vessels distinguishable from the Dutchmen only by the 
red ensigns of the English merchant navy that fluttered 
from their spankers. Along the bulwarks of the nearer 
of the pair Jonathan recognised the black squares of the 
gunports that told him that she was armed like the 
Dutch commodore; and even as he watched there came 
from her side a spurt of red flame followed by a puflf of 
white smoke and another shot fell across the bows of the 
Dutch leader. Surely, he thought, England is not at war 
with the European countries now; he would have been 
less puzzled if he had known of the jealousies that had 
so long existed between the whaling fleets of the two 
countries; jealousies that had started a hundred years 
ago over the possession of the once famous whaling bays 
of Spitzbergen. 

'Come, Jonathan,' said Joseph, *let us seek out our 
Enghsh speaking friend and ask him what it is that ails 
these countrymen of yours.' 

They found their interpreter, a short, round, blond- 
bearded man in his forties who had served in the whale- 
ships of many countries, sitting on a cask philosophically 


smoking a stubby clay pipe as if content to leave any 
swearing that the occasion demanded to his more demon- 
strative shipmates. 

'It is the Englishman's belief that he has but to show his 
flag in any part of land or sea to make it at once the pos- 
session of King George,' he explained dourly. 'Or per- 
haps he has sighted a porpoise in the fiord and is afraid 
we shall steal it from him.' He pointed the stem of his 
pipe towards the Englishmen. 'The South Sea Company 
gives them fine enough ships to hunt the whale but they 
have lost the art of the trade and have left it to we Dutch- 
men to show the world how to kill whales for profit.' 

The sound of bunting flapping in the wind caused him 
to look aloft at the signal that was being hoisted. 

'It seems,' he said, 'that our captain wishes to hand you 
over to these English ships.' 

'Shall we be able to return to New England?' asked 
Joseph eagerly. 

'What port will they take us to?' asked Jonathan, 
hoping that it might be the Bristol which he knew so well. 

'I think that they will go to London,' replied the Dutch 
sailor. 'There you will be able to find a ship more easily 
than in the Dutch whaling ports.' 

'Shall we meet others from the Pilgrim in the English 
ships ?' asked Jonathan. 

The Dutchman looked into the boy's serious face under 
its hood of white fur. 'No, my son, they are in the ships 
from which we parted company.' He swung his gaze 
to the English whalers. 'I see the affirmative signal flies 
on one of the Englishmen so you should prepare your- 
selves for a change of ships.' 

The two lads found their Indian companion and told 
him the news. Soon the trio stood waiting on the deck, 
Jonathan with his precious canvas bag resting at his feet. 
They watched one of the EngHsh ships come smartly into 
the wind and lower a boat which was soon under the 


Der Browerfs lee side. With a final wave to their 
rescuers the three shipwrecked mariners clambered down 
the sloping sides into the waiting boat. 

Not a word had been spoken between the Dutch and 
the English but as the boat drew away there came from 
the deck of the Der Browery the sound of derisive laughter 
which seemed to say, 'Keep your precious fiord, proud 
Englishmen, for we can find our fresh water elsewhere. 
Our holds are full of blubber and you are welcome to any 
whale you may find in the short time you have left before 
the ice drives you homewards.' 

But the young English officer, in his neat coat of seal- 
skin and tricorn hat trimmed with gold, turned his back 
on the Dutchmen and steered his boat towards the 
fourteen-gun ship which lay with mainyard hauled aback 
awaiting its return. 

As the boat ran under the ship's stern Jonathan looked 
up and read the name inscribed in gilt letters on the high 
trzxisom.: Rose of Kent, 

The captain in whose presence they soon found them- 
selves was a big round man with a merry red face under a 
white powdered periwig and was dressed so smartly in his 
coat of blue and gold, white doublet and blue breeches 
that one might have thought him preparing to step ashore 
to the South Sea Company's offices in London, at any 

After a brief interrogation he concluded jocularly, 
'Now off with the three of ye and see that ye earn your 
salt till we reach London,' and turning to the officer in 
the sealskin coat who waited by the door. Tut them to 
work, Mr. Johnson, as soon as you like.' 

Mr. Johnson, the fourth mate, however, was more 
concerned with the whales that he hoped were being 
pursued by some of the shallops inside the fiord and giving 
the trio brief instructions about hammocks and ship's 
routine he left them to their own devices. After finding 


their berths in the forecastle they watched the five whaHng 
shallops saihng down the wind as they returned from an 
unsuccessful hunt. 

'Look there, my chummies,' exclaimed Joseph as one of 
the shallops dropped her sail and closed under the Rose's 
lee. 'Have you ever seen the like of that in a whaleboat?' 

In the bows of the boat was mounted a weapon that 
looked like a small cannon. 

'It must be for firing harpoons,' suggested Jonathan. 
'But what a heavy burden for a boat to carry.' 

'It seems to be built for the task, though,' said Joseph. 

'Him plenty much heavy boat to catchem whale,' 
grunted Chimoo. 

'Heavier than the Dutchman's even,' said Jonathan, 
'but the same in other ways.' 

An EngHsh sailor with a big black beard joined the 

'It's the new toy o' the South Sea Company, maties,' he 
explained. 'They 'opes to brighten the future of the 
English whale fishery with it. The 'Olstein 'arpingers 
don't hke it. They won't 'ave nothin 'to do with such 
trappin's and they say that you can only kill a whale 
with a 'and 'arpin' iron — and I agree with 'em. Why 
you couldn't catch a jellyfish in that shallop, let alone a 

The crew of one of the other shallops were chmbing up 
the ship's side. One of them was haranguing the rest 
in a loud voice that had a pronounced German accent. 

'You English have no respect for the cunning of the 
whale; you charge him like a bull at a gate and then 
complain when he becomes afraid,' he was saying. 

He was the harpooner of the boat, a blond-haired man 
from the port of Hamburg and one of the many Holsteiners 
signed by the South Sea Company at a high share of the 
profits in an effort to re-kindle the charred embers of the 
once flourishing English whale fishery whose fame had 


been almost extinguished in the last few decades by the 
success of the Dutch and German whalers; to such an 
extent, in fact, that there were only twenty-two English 
whalers in the Arctic whaling grounds that year, as against 
several hundred Dutch and German. 

The sailor with the black beard laughed. 'We'll learn 
in good time, 'Olsteiner, and then your maties'U wish they 
never let you put foot aboard the Company's decks.' 

There was great truth in the lighthearted banter of the 
English sailor for in later years, when the keen young 
English whalemen were to find themselves as proficient 
as their German teachers they were gradually to displace 
them. With a government bounty to assist it the EngHsh 
whaling industry was to flourish and prosper whilst the 
Dutch industry in particular was to reach a low financial 
ebb through wars and the heavy harbour dues imposed by 
its government. It was to decline once more when the 
bounty system was abolished. By 1825 the American 
whalers, whose forefathers had been Indian canoes, shore 
boats and humble little sloops like the Pilgrim, were to 
attain a prosperity unprecedented in the history of the 
ancient calling. 

The Holsteiner spat towards the harpoon gun in the 
boat that now lay moored alongside. 'As for that heap 
of wood and iron you can throw it into the sea for all the 
good it will bring you,' he growled. 

His words were as true as those of the English sailor for 
this first tentative experiment had already proved a 
failure and as long as men were to pursue the whale in 
wooden boats the harpoon gun in all its experimental 
shapes and sizes was to be continually cast aside to make 
room for the muscular arm of the harpooner. A craft of 
the size required to carry such a gun could not be readily 
manoeuvred under sail and oar and it was not until the 
middle of the nineteenth century when a gun invented by 
a Norwegian named Svend Foyn coincided with the 


arrival of steam powered vessels that the practice of cast- 
ing the harpoon by hand was superseded by that of firing 
it from a small cannon. 

The next day Jonathan and his two companions 
watched with great interest as the harpoon gun was tried 
once more but though it could cast the irons a much 
greater distance its aim was inaccurate and it was left to 
the hand harpoons to account for the only whale that was 
killed in several days' hunting. 

Then from the north came the rest of the English ships, 
some heavily armed like the Rose of Kent. One of their 
number had had to be abandoned in the ice and their 
catch brought the total of the whole fleet to only fourteen 
whales. Since it needed at least three whales per ship to 
make an expedition profitable it could hardly be expected 
that the South Sea Company would be pleased with the 
results of its venture. 

But if the officers were apprehensive about their 
reception at Deptford there was no depression amongst 
the men for the Arctic winter was closing its grip on those 
inhospitable shores and the ships were heading for home. 

Their spars white with a coating of ice, the twenty-one 
vessels fought their way through a blizzard to the south- 
ward and after five weeks arrived at Deptford. 

One evening early in September Jonathan stepped 
once more on to English soil after many months of 
wandering. With his canvas bag over his shoulder he 
walked between Joseph and Chimoo over the wet cobbles 
of the quayside. 

A sailor at the Rosens gangplank, watching them dis- 
appear into the mist of the London river, turned to one of 
his shipmates and said, 'You know, you couldn't blame 
those Yankees if they 'ad a bit of a spell ashore, could you ?' 

Part Two : Thomas 


The Yankee Whaler 

IN THE YEAR 1 848 a sailor, perched in the crowsnest of a 
smart British merchant packet homeward bound through 
the Southern Trade Wind belt, sighted a vessel lifting over 
the northern horizon. 

*Sail ho!' he called to his shipmates on the deck below, 
and clapped his telescope to his eye. 

As the distance shortened he recognised the un- 
mistakable features of a whaler ; first, the dark specks at 
the three mastheads which he knew were the lookouts; 
then the tall white cranes or davits that carried the four 
whaleboats ; and as she loomed larger in the circle of the 
telescope's vision, the odd-looking hump between the 
foremast and the mainmast which he knew to be the try- 
works that all whalers carried on their upper decks. 

'She's a blubber-hunter!' he called out to those 

'They don't build 'em singly in America, they just saws 
'em off in lengths,' quipped the bosun loudly and the men 
laughed as they watched the sturdy squat-hulled vessel of 
about three hundred and fifty tons hove into view. She 
was one of over seven hundred whalers to sail from the 
ports of New England that year. 

The merchantman, with the wind behind her, gave 
way and as she passed under the whaler's lee the lookout 


eSpied the letters on the white-painted bows: Meribah 

On the poop-deck of the whaler a young, fair-haired 
man of twenty watched the merchantman as she passed 
and then returned below to the officers' space in the stern 
where on his bunk lay several old and tattered leather- 
bound volumes. They had been given to him by his 
mother who had discovered them in an old bureau in the 
house of the Oakleys at Nantucket, and she had expressed 
the hope that this old journal would provide her son with 
a means of passing away in a pleasant manner a few of 
the many thousands of hours of tedium that must be 
endured during a four-year voyage in search of sperm 
whale in the Pacific. 

He sat on the bunk and as he turned the age-soiled 
pages of neatly written script he was in his imagination 
no longer Thomas Oakley, third mate of the Yankee 
whaler Meribah, but Jonathan Oakley, promoted to first 
mate of a hundred-ton whaling brig sailing in search of 
bowheads in the northern waters that had been opened to 
the fleet of New England whalers by the bold but ill-fated 
little Pilgrim, 

Thomas had already read during the run down from the 
Cape Verde Islands of how his ancestor had watched as a 
boy the longshore whalemen on the Nantucket beaches; 
of how, after the wreck of the Pilgrim and the passage to 
England, he had returned with Joseph and Chimoo to be 
greeted by the Mathers in old Nantucket; and of the lad's 
frequent voyages into the Atlantic in search not only of 
right whales but also of sperm whales which abounded in 
the warmer southern waters. He read of Jonathan's 
pride at striking his first whale which entitled him to 
wear a toggle badge in his buttonhole; of Jonathan as a 
fully fledged harpooner, schooled by the faithful Chimoo. 

As the Meribah reached for the Roaring Forties and the 
remote island of Tristan da Cunha Thomas found himself 


reading Jonathan's diaries at every available spare 
moment. He read of the pretty girl from Boston who 
became Mrs. Jonathan Oakley; of Captain Oakley, 
whaling master and father of five boys and two girls; of 
Captain Jonathan P. Oakley, shipowner and merchant; 
and of the old man's visit to his native Somerset in 1805, 


the same year that one of his friends made the last 
entry in an unfamiliar hand stating that 'they buried 
this fine old man in the Nantucket dunes that he loved so 

When Thomas had closed the leather cover of the last 
volume he climbed into the evening sunlight of the upper 
deck and as he stood with the breeze rustling his fair hair 


he felt himself deeply moved by the thought of this great- 
great-grandfather of his who had been the founder of the 
Oakley family of whalemen and shipowners. It was not 
until twilight covered the sea that he returned to his cabin. 

There he took from a locker a thick log-book and open- 
ing it at the first page wrote: 'The diary of Thomas 
Oakley, at the time of commencement third mate of the 
whaling barque Meribah of Nantucket.' 

His pen moved slowly over the ruled lines for this 
Thomas Oakley was not the scholar that Jonathan had 
been. Generations of Oakleys separated the two and a 
century of whaling had toughened the breed. Yet in the 
blue eyes of this stalwart young man you might have seen 
at times something of the dreamer that had been so marked 
in Jonathan. 

When he put down his pen after half an hour of steady 
writing in which he told of the Meribah^ s departure from 
Nantucket, he became, with the quickness that was so 
typical of him, the man of action once more. 

He looked at the large timepiece he carried in the pocket 
of his reefer. It was time for the night watch to take over 
and his turn to make a report to the Old Man. 

He passed through the cabin in which thrice daily 
meals were served in two sittings, first to the captain and 
his mates and then to the harpooners who in rank were 
somewhat equivalent to petty officers. From here he 
climbed the ladder to the after deck where Hodge the 
burly first mate had just taken over the watch. He 
wondered why Hodge always scowled at him in that 

Barefooted and with legs slightly astride to meet the 
movement of the ship he walked forward under the great 
billowing sails and between the whaleboats that hung 
from their massive wooden cranes of davits. He paused 
when he reached the try-works which lay between the 
foremast and the mainmast. This construction of bricks 


and iron erected incongruously on the wooden deck was 
only partly disguised by the wooden casing that flanked it. 
Thomas had read in Jonathan's diary that as early as 1 743 
an ingenious whaling captain had first conceived the idea 
of taking his own try- works to sea on the deck of his ship, 
thereby enabling him to bring back casks filled with oil 
instead of the less profitable blubber. 

From one of the pair of huge coppers that were sunk 
into the top of this oven Thomas was greeted by the black 
solemn face of an African negro. 

'Dey ain't nobody kin shine a pot like dis ole Sam, Mars 
Oakley,' he croaked. 'En you kin tell d'Ole Man dat 
dey is my pride and joy fer de whole voyage.' 

Thomas laughed and continued his way forward where 
the men off watch were seated on and around the windlass 
smoking their pipes. They were the usual mixture that 
made up the crews of the Yankee whalers of that time; for 
this world wandering industry gathered to itself men of all 
races, colours and creeds; brown men from the island- 
studded Pacific, jet black men from the coasts of Africa, 
Portuguese from the Azores, white settlers from the 
American plains and the youngsters who had been born 
with harpoons in their fists from the whaling ports of New 
England and others too numerous to mention. 

'I found a weevil in my hard tack, Mr. Oakley,' sang 
out a youth who Thomas strongly suspected had signed 
aboard to escape the consequences of his misdemeanours 
on the American mainland. 

'The first of a long line of 'em, Matheson, you'll 
find,' replied Thomas as he descended the forecastle 

He cast a quick critical eye around this small compart- 
ment that housed the twenty-six forecastle hands. Much 
the same as in Jonathan's day, he thought; bigger but no 
more space to each man ; no wonder that the hands prefer 
to live on deck as much as possible. The bunks, he 


concluded were the only improvement since Jonathan's 
time when the men slept in hammocks. 

He looked into the galley where the old negro cook was 
humming a hymn as he polished his pans. 

*Doan you come in dis yer galley till Ah've finished ma 
cleaning, Mars Oakley.' 

*A11 right, old Ebony,' said Thomas with a grin. *Rub 
away and make 'em shine like new dollars, even though 
they'll be as black as your old face to-morrow." 

He climbed into the cleaner air of the upper deck and 
made his way aft to the captain's cabin where he knocked 
and entered. 

'All's well, sir,' he reported. 

'Good, Oakley,' said the grey-haired man in blue 
pilot cloth as he looked up from the chart he was 

Captain John Galloway was a man of nearly sixty with 
a face like old weathered oak. He was of Quaker 
descent but unlike the Quaker captain of the Httle Pilgrim 
had always tempered his ambitions with shrewd judge- 
ment ; and unlike Melville's Captain Ahab he was intent 
not upon some strange metaphysical quest but upon 
reaching the Pacific whaling grounds, filling his holds with 
oil and returning home in the shortest possible time, a task 
which with every fresh voyage he hoped by his own discip- 
Hne and the Grace of God to accomplish within four years. 
He shared this aim with the rest of the ship's company for 
it was the custom in whaling for everyone, from cabin boy 
to captain, to receive a share of the profits proportionate 
to his rank. 

Thomas had an additional reason for wishing the 
ship a successful voyage ; his father, now retired from active 
whaling, owned half the shares in her. 

'How did your crew shape up in the boat practices 
yesterday, Oakley?' asked the captain. 

'Two of them are as green as cabbages, sir, but they'll 


settle down after a windward chase or two. Jameson, the 
harpooner I chose, is no giant but I must say he harpooned 
those blackfish as well as the best.' 

'I think we all need a fat school o' parmaceti to set us 
on our mettle, Oakley. In my grandfather's day we'ld 
have seen plenty in the Atlantic but that day has gone.' 
His heavy brows lowered in a frown. 'You know, if we 
go on killing right whales and sperm whales at the rate 
we do there'll be precious few left for our grandsons unless 
they build boats fast enough to catch the "razorbacks." ' 
He gazed at the inverted compass set in the cabin roof 
and then smacked the palm of one hand with the clenched 
fist of the other. 'But our job, Oakley, is to kill parmaceti, 
so off with you and tell Mr. Hodge that I expect to raise 
Tristan by breakfast.' 

Hodge, the first mate, was a man of thwarted ambition. 
In his younger days he had risen steadily enough through 
the whaling ranks by reason of his courage and abiUty 
in the boats. Fifteen years ago when he had reached the 
rank of first mate the last rung of the ladder, commanding 
his own whaler, had seemed within easy reach. But 
voyage after voyage he had found himself signed as second 
in command. Those fifteen years of vain hoping had 
soured his attitude towards the younger men of shorter 
experience who had attained their own commands or were 
well on the way to doing so ; and he had no less reason to 
feel grieved against the shipowner class who promoted 
them over the heads of more experienced men such as 
himself. Indeed, there was not a task in the whole of 
the whaling craft at which Hodge was not expert, whether 
decapitating a whale or pin-pointing the ship's position 
on the wide expanse of landless oceans. 

Then why had those old fogies way back on the Nan- 
tucket wharves sent him off for another four years as only 
second in command ? 

Hodge was asking himself this question for the 


hundredth time as Thomas approached him on the 
poop deck. 

'Mr. Hodge, sir/ said Thomas. 'I'm to report from the 
captain, that he expects to raise Tristan da Cunha by 
breakfast to-morrow. 

'As if I didn't know that already,' growled Hodge, 
'after all the times I've done this doggarned trip.' 

Thomas could not suppress his amusement at this reply. 
The voyage was still too young for him to know Hodge 
very well and he beheved the remark to be made half 

But the roar that came from Hodge left him in no doubt. 

'Take that grin off your face, Oakley. I know your old 
man practically owns this ship but that doesn't mean 
you can take liberties with me. You think that you'll 
step roughshod over others and be lording it on your own 
poop-deck in a few years, don't you? But you're not 
there yet, so pick up that bucket and broom and give 
this poop-deck a swab down. Jump to it !' 

Hodge's tirade and humiliating order stung Thomas to 

'You are wrong, Mr. Hodge. You should know my 
father as a fair man and for myself I expect no favours.' 

'Swab this deck!' shouted Hodge. 

Slowly and resentfully Thomas filled the bucket, 
emptied it upon the spotless deck. As he wielded the 
broom several of the hands working amidships found it 
hard to stifle their amusement at the sight of an officer 
engaged in so menial a task. 

It was an incident that was to rankle in Thomas's 
memory for a long, long time. 



Across the Indian Ocean 

CAPTAIN GALLOWAY brought his ship to that one place on 
the precipitous shores of Tristan da Cunha where a land- 
ing can be effected. A boat was lowered and he was 
rowed ashore to return after an hour or so with a cargo of 
hogs, chicken and vegetables which would provide a 
welcome relief to the monotony of the salt beef and hard 
biscuit diet during the passage across the Indian Ocean. 

With her boat back on its cranes the Meribah squared 
away from the island and soon found her sails filHng with 
the brave west winds that blow right round the globe in 
those latitudes known as the Roaring Forties. With her 
long jibboom climbing and dipping she set her prow to 
the eastward for Australia. 

'Secure and lash everything,' sang out the captain above 
the howling of the wind through the rigging. 

'Hoist the boats high on the cranes!' 

As the days passed and the winds rose to gale force one 
sail after another was taken in until only her reefed 
topsails and foresails remained; and so with two oilskin- 
clad men continually wrestling with the wheel to keep her 


from broaching to, the brave old ship's passage across the 
wide Indian Ocean became an endless succession of wild 
toboggan slides as the twenty-foot seas lifted her stern and 
sent her racing down their long slopes to the troughs where 
she wallowed and waited for the next one to uplift her. 

Then one day the single lookout swaying in his pre- 
carious perch on the main topmast bellowed the call 
which in better weather would have brought joy to the 
hearts of everyone. 

'Th-e-e-re she bl-o-o-o-ws!' 

Thomas, standing his watch on the poop-deck, saw 
three large sperm whales on the weather quarter. As if 
mimicking the antics of the hard-pressed ship they slid 
playfully down the long grey-green slopes and their 
bushy white spouts rising obliquely from their box-like 
heads were caught by the following wind and flung ahead 
of them before dispersing their vapour into the spray- 
filled atmosphere. 

Thomas went to the after hatch. 'She blows. Captain !' 
he called. 

Hodge the first mate was superintending some men 
overhauling the rigging and heard Thomas's words. 
'Goddam you, man, d'you think he'd let you lower in this 
weather,' he bawled derisively. 

Tld be willing to try for one,' retorted Thomas. 

The captain coming on deck at that moment heard the 
brief altercation. 

'Mr. Hodge is right, Oakley,' he said, 'a boat would 
never live in this sea and anyway you could never bring a 
dead whale to the ship's side till it eased — and you might 
have to wait weeks for that,' but the captain's tone was 
not one of chastisement and there was something in the 
look that he shot at Hodge which made Thomas believe 
he would later say something to the first mate about 
criticising an officer for making what amounted to a 
normal and proper report. 



That evening Hodge found Thomas making an entry in 
his diary at the cabin table. 

'Making a report to old man Oakley, eh?' he jeered. 
'Giving him the lowdown on the officers he employs, eh?' 

Thomas did not reply but continued with his difficult 
task of writing whilst swaying his body against the pitching 
motion of the ship. 

The ship ploughed valiantly onwards and as she drew 
near to the south-western tip of the Australian continent 
the wind eased and the sun shone through breaks in the 
clouds. Reefs were shaken out of the sails and strings of 
wet clothing fluttered in the rigging. 

The harpooners climbed the jibboom to practise their 
skill on the porpoises that danced under the bows. 

'Jamie's gotten himself a big one,' cried the cabin boy 
as peering over the bows he saw Thomas's harpooner score 
a hit and watched the sleek black and white sea mammal 
hauled up and over the side by the men who had taken 
the harpoon line. 

'You's gonna have porpoise steaks for supper to-night, 
honey,' chuckled old Ebony the cook. 

'Jamie!' called Thomas. 'When you've done amusing 
yourself perhaps you'll give the boat a run over with me.' 

'Aye, aye, Mr. Oakley, I'm just coming.' 

Jameson came aft with a broad grin on his round red 
face. Thomas was never quite certain whether he was of 


Irish or Scottish descent. The unusual breadth of his 
body made him look even shorter than his five feet three 
inches. Against the other three harpooners, one of 
whom was an African negro several inches over six feet, he 
looked shorter than ever. Perhaps, thought Thomas as 
he regarded the squat figure with the long muscular ape- 
like arms, this Jamie is the new style in harpooners, 
for after all, it must be much easier to balance a body 
with such a low centre of gravity than a tall and lanky 

Together they climbed into the boat and began their 

The American whaleboat had reached by now the peak 
of its perfection. Every plank, timber and nail along its 
twenty-eight-foot length had evolved to the point where it 
gave the maximum strength with the minimum weight. 
There was a brass roller where the whale-line ran out of 
the bows and, fitted to the gunwale just astern of the bow 
platform, a plank with a semi-circular section cut out to 
take the thigh of the harpooner and known as the 'clumsy 
cleat'. In addition to the five oars and the steering oar 
there were five paddles lashed to the undersides of the 
thwarts in readiness for the calm weather occasions when 
the noises caused by the oars might frighten or 'galley' the 
whale from the surface. The third means of propulsion 
was the sail which could be raised by fitting the mast into 
the hole in the second thwart or lowered and laid flat 
according to the state of the wind. 

So efficient had the American boat proved itself that 
its design had been adopted by all the European countries 
then engaged in the whaling industry. 

The harpoons and lances rested in their crotches but 
the whale-line, now of flaxen-coloured manilla instead of 
the brown hemp of Jonathan's time, was not in the boat. 
The tub containing its two hundred and twenty fathoms, 
so meticulously coiled in concentric layers by Jameson, 


would not be put into the boat until the moment before 
lowering, when it would be fitted between the two after 

'Everything seems to be in good trim, Mr. Oakley,' said 
Jameson, 'but I'll just give her undersides a poHsh.' 


Sperm Whale 

THOMAS WAS STILL in the boat when from the lookout on 
the main topmast came the cry that was sheer music to the 
whaleman's ear. 

'There she blo-o-o-ows!' 

* Where away?' hailed the captain from the quarter- 

*Right ahead, sir. One mile off. A big school of 

As the ship rose on the crest of a sea Thomas saw the 
unmistakable low spouts of the sperm whales and leapt 
to the deck. 


*Steady as she goes, helmsman,' ordered the captain. 

*Lines in the four boats! Stand by to lower!' 

The watch below poured from the hatches struggling 
into their jackets and the fore and mizzen lookouts sUd to 
the deck like monkeys. 

'Starboard a little,' said the captain. 'Steady,' and 
the ship's head moved a point or two so that her boats 
could be dropped to windward of the school which 
was swimming with the wind at two or three knots. 

'Haul aback the mainyard!' cried the captain and the 
ship's speed was slowed. 

'Lower away! And the good Lord be with you, lads.' 

Thomas and Jamie were already in their respective 
places in the stern and the bow. The boat had barely 
smacked the crest of a wave before they had the falls 
unhooked and the other four of the crew were leaping 
from the ship's side to their places at the oars. 

'Pull her clear, lads,' urged Thomas as the ship rolled 
towards their cedarwood cockleshell. 

'Hoist the sail and we'll reach them before they show 
flukes,' he cried. 

He gripped the long vibrating steering oar as the craft 
planed before the strong following wind down the long 
slopes of the waves. More than once she became almost 
unmanageable and when after about ten minutes the 
whales were only a few hundred yards ahead he gave the 
order to roll up the sail and use the oars. 

Now the boat poised itself in the tumbling white water 
at the crest of a sea and below him in the trough swam the 
rearguard of the school. 

'Stand up, Jamie,' he thundered and the harpooner 
shipped his oar, jumped to his feet and stood ready with 
his harpoon raised as the boat plunged downwards to- 
wards its prey. The bow shot past the tail of what 
Thomas took to be the rearmost whale and as he pressed 
his chest to his steering oar the boat turned towards the 


wallowing brown flank. Jamie's arm flashed twice and 
two harpoons went deep into the unsuspecting Leviathan. 
He threw clear from the bows the few coils of 'stray line' 
and at Thomas's 'Stern all!' the oarsmen backed the boat 
away from the whale. 

The whale arched its hump, threw up its flukes and 
sounded. The Hne sped out of the tub, round the logger- 
head, between the two banks of oarsmen and over the 
looms of their oars and out through the fairlead in the bow. 

Hodge's boat shot past Thomas's and fastened a 
harpoon to another of the whales just as they were all 
diving out of danger; all, that is, with the exception of an 
old bull, which, in the excitement of the moment, Thomas 
had failed to notice was following in the wake of the main 
school. It was not until he felt the steering oar being 
knocked from his grasp that he saw the wrinkled head of 
the big fellow in the act of sounding under his boat's 
stern. For a second the broad tail-flukes cast their 
shadow over the boat; then as they entered the sea the 
tip of the nearest one touched the boat — only the tip — 
but it was enough to put the craft on her beam ends. Two 
of the midships oarsmen were thrown into the sea and 
when the boat righted herself she was a quarter full of 
water and the starboard gunwale was smashed. 

The whale-line was still being taken down by the har- 
pooned whale and Thomas dare not check too severely 
round the loggerhead for fear of having the bows pulled 
under. He reached out and helped one of the men from 
the water. The other, alas was not to be seen. 

'Bale with anything you can find,' he yelled, 'and keep 
clear of the snags in the line,' for the neat coils of the 
whale-Hne had been thrown askew in their tub by the 
water that had entered it, and he knew of many cases in 
which a fouled line had caught a man by a limb and 
whipped him out over the bows. 

With only a few coils still left to run out Thomas 


called to the one boat not yet attached to a whale and 
Hamm, the lanky fourth mate, brought his craft along- 
side. Thomas's tub oarsman had just taken the other 
boat's line and was about to bend it on to the eye splice 
which hung over the edge of the tub ready for such an 
emergency when the outgoing speed of the line slackened. 
Thomas took it in his hands and there was almost no pull 
on it. 

'The whale's rising! Haul in!' he cried, and hand over 
hand the five of them pulled the line back into the boat. 

DkoTnas pyohed his Lance 
into the while's "life 

Swish! The whale shot from the water a hundred 
yards away. His huge body hung for a split second in the 
air with water streaming from it and then with a resound- 
ing smack it fell back on its side sending up fountains of 

'Haul up to her!' cried Thomas as he and Jamie 
quickly changed places. 

He took up his lance and stood ready in the bows. 

'Oars!' he ordered, and the men rowed the boat over 
the last few yards till they felt the bows touch the whale. 

Thomas probed his lance into the whale's 'life' till he 
saw the red blood gush from its spout hole. 



- >x 



Choosing a school'' 
of sbirm cukales 


'Stern all!' he shouted and the boat, having been 
brought to the lee side for this very purpose, was easily 
backed away from the whale which now fought with all 
the fury of its waning life to smash its tormentors with its 
tail and its snapping jaws. 

Hamm's boat riding nearby had reached the whale too 
late, despite the efforts of his oarsmen, to be in at the 

The Meribah came alongside the whale and its tail was 
secured with a heavy chain to her starboard bow. 

Thomas's battered boat was hoisted on to the deck for 
repairs and he and his crew went below to change their 
soaked clothes. 

When he went on deck again the first and second mates, 
Hodge and Jacobs, were steering their boats into the 
Meribah's lee. 

'We lost two lines, Cap'n,' reported Hodge disconso- 
lately as he came over the side. 'He took mine first and 
then Jacob's and the rate he was diving I reckon he'ld 
have taken a third.' 

'Never mind, Hodge,' said the captain, 'the ship has 
one whale to her credit and we'll commence cutting as 
soon as the hands have had dinner.' 

And whilst the men of the Meribah are enjoying a well 
earned meal let the reader enlighten himself if he so wishes 
on some of the peculiarities of the type of whale which 
wallows in the shark infested sea under the ship's side. 

The spermaceti whale is called the sperm whale for 
short. In the American whalemen's vocabulary it was 
often called the 'parmaceti' and the English, borrowing 
from the French, named it cachalot. Whereas there are 
several large varieties of the baleen or whalebone whales, 
the sperm whale is the only large member of the toothed 
family. The male sperm whale is bigger than its wives 


and grows to a maximum of sixty feet, but in the baleen 
family it is the females that are the larger of the two sexes, 
sometimes reaching a length of over a hundred feet. The 
sperm whale does not feed on the myriad minute creatures 
that live on the surface of the sea but upon the giant 
cuttlefish which it can only reach by diving to the ocean 
bed and which it first has to fight and kill. There are 
many reports of torn and crooked jaws found in sperm 
whales and it is fairly certain that these injuries were 
acquired during their struggles with their prey. For this 
task nature has equipped the sperm whale with a row of 
sharp teeth set on either side of its sword-shaped lower 
jaw and each tooth, which can weigh up to four pounds in 
weight, fits, when the mouth is closed, into a socket in the 
upper jaw which has only a few small vestigial teeth. 
Whereas the two close-set nostrils or blowholes of the 
baleen whales are set well back on the top of the head the 
sperm whale's are set nearer the fore part of the head and 
only the left one is active. The females with their young 
wander in schools like herds of cattle from one feeding 
ground to another and the polygamous males battle with 
one another for mastery of the schools, the defeated bulls 
often retiring to the polar regions; and although the 
schools are found in the colder seas too it is the tropical 
and sub-tropical regions that they prefer most. 

This whale obtains its name from the unique spermaceti 
oil which can be extracted in liquid form from a large 
reservoir in its head. Before the days of electricity this oil 
fetched a higher price than any other whale-oil by reason 
of its fine quality and the bright smokeless light that it 
gave. To-day one of its uses is the lubrication of fine 
machinery such as typewriters and sewing machines. 

Its function in the whale's body is believed to be the 
hydrostatic control of the breathing tubes when the head 
is subjected to the enormous pressure on the ocean beds. 

The eyes set on each side of the head are no bigger than 


those of a cow ; and you might search diHgently and never 
find the pinprick holes through which it seems miracu- 
lously to be able to hear the splash of an oar a mile away. 

Sometimes the whalemen found in the stomach of a sick 
sperm whale a substance known as ambergris which 
seemed to form itself around the undigested beak of a 
cuttlefish. It possessed the singular quality of being able 
to retain the scent of highly volatile perfumes and perfume 
manufacturers paid many pounds for a single ounce of it. 

The sperm whale now lashed to the Meribah was a 
female and its fourteen-inch thick blubber would yield 
about fifty barrels of oil which although of lower quality 
than the spermaceti oil contained in the head would also 
be used for lighting purposes. 


^Cutting in' and 
'Trying out' 

AFTER A HURRIED MEAL Hodgc and Thomas, armed with 
long-handled cutting spades, climbed on to the staging 
that had been rigged on the ship's side to overhang the 
whale and for the time being the differences between the 
two men were overshadowed by the important task of 
'cutting in'. 

While Hodge decapitated the whale by cutting away 
the flesh and severing the backbone where it entered the 
skull Thomas made a broad semicircular incision in the 
coat of blubber near the side fin ; and within this arc he 
cut out a hole big enough to receive the fluke of the big 
iron blubber hook. 

The head, which occupied about a third of the whale's 
length, was hoisted by means of tackles on to the deck 
where it would eventually be opened at the top by a 
harpooner and the precious spermaceti oil baled from the 
case. So pure was this oil that it was poured straight 
into the casks and required no further treatment. 

The long lower jaw would be unhinged and the teeth 
would provide ivory for the men to carve into the decor- 
ative forms known as 'scrimshaw' work during the long 


idle days when whales did not present themselves to 
provide more exciting activity. 

But the head had to wait till the body was stripped. So 
down came the lower block of one of the two large cutting 
tackles that always hung ready like a bunch of grapes in 
the maintop and on to it was shackled the big blubber 

And now Jamie fastened the canvas belt of the *monkey 
rope' around his middle and leapt down on to the whale. 
It was the duty of another harpooner on the deck above 
him to hold the other end of this rope and to prevent 
Jamie accidentally offering himself as a second course to 
the dozens of sharks which were gorging upon the whale's 

Another rope was fastened to the blubber hook and its 
free end was passed down to Jamie who, steadying 
himself as well as he could upon the slippery, heaving 
surface, began to haul towards him the several hundred- 
weights of hook and tackle. 

He wrestled with this swaying mass until he had got the 
fluke of the blubber hook into the hole that Thomas had 
cut. Then, leaping back to the ship, he called out, 'Hook 
fast. Haul away!' and the men at the windlass began 
cranking and the three-fold tackle tautened till the mast 
to which its upper end was attached felt the weight and 
leaned towards its burden. There was a sudden snap as 
the semicircular section of blubber was rent from the 
whale and the ship rolled back to the upright position. 
At the same time the two mates on the staging extended 
the two ends of the semicircular cut with their spades and 
so commenced the continuous strip that would be peeled 
in spiral fashion from the whale. With a helping hand 
from the heaving swell the tackle tugged at the blubber 
and the mates cut it away whilst all the time the whale 
rolled with each fresh pull. 

Now the two blocks of the tackle met high above and the 

Cwtling in 

71 he first blanvkeh piece cominq up. 


dripping strip reached from the whale right up to the 
maintop. Jamie, armed with a broad-bladed sword, 
stepped up and hacked a hole in that portion which was 
level with his arm and the second hook and tackle was 
made fast. 

'Stand back!' cried Jamie and with a few sweeps of his 

^ heblubber-Jwok 

sword severed the blubber in twain so that the upper 
portion, the first 'blanket piece,' swung free on the one 
tackle whilst leaving the next piece to be hoisted by the 

As each 'blanket piece' was cut it was lowered through a 

'gutting in' and *trying out' 137 

hatch to the blubber room to be cut into the smaller 
*horse pieces' ; and these in turn were sent up to the deck 
in tubs to be chopped into even smaller pieces by the 
man known as the mincer who worked at a wooden 

The try-works were already belching wood smoke and 
the two try-pots now received the minced blubber. 

When the last of the blubber had been removed the 
captain ordered that the whale be cast off. As the 

"Vke try-works 

chains were slipped from its tail Thomas watched the 
white carcass, now relieved of its buoyant covering, sink 
into the depths like a disappearing ghost. It was pursued 
to the last by the insatiable sharks. 

Spreading her sails the Meribah departed from the scene 
of the slaughter and pointed her prow once more to 

All through the night the try-works blazed and the 
stench of burning flesh fouled the air as the fires were fed 
with the fritters of the boiled whale blubber. 


Into the Paciji 


Hearts and minds grown tired by months of monoto- 
nous voyaging thrilled anew at the welcome cry. The 
south-western tip of Australia was coming up over the 
eastern horizon and the stormy Indian Ocean was 

That evening, with the Meribah lying peacefully at 
anchor on the calm waters of Two People Bay, Thomas 
took a boatload of men to a white beach that was com- 
posed of the powdered bones of a million cuttlefish. 
Whilst the men stretched their legs he discovered the 
spring where the captain had said they could find fresh 
water. Then knowing that this bay was frequently 
visited by whalers he looked for signs of their visits to this 
desolate beach; but not a single old cask nor a strand of 
rope could he find. As he walked back to the boat the 
reason became only too obvious for the eyes of two black 
aborigines were peering inquisitively from the trees. He 
was glad that he had left an armed guard to watch the 

On returning to the ship he reported having found the 
spring to Captain Galloway and then under the shade of 
a whaleboat he commenced to record his visit in his 

Hodge's suspicions flared up as soon as he saw that 


Thomas was writing. 'Have you nothing to do but 
scribble more reports?' he growled. 

His tone and manner were so offensive that Thomas 
leapt to his feet and gave free vent to the anger he had so 
long repressed. 

*What I do with my spare time is my own concern and 
I'll not seek your permission to write or do anything else 
that amuses me. As for what I am writing you can believe 
whatever your darn-fool nature tells you and go to the 

Hodge's arm flashed and the back of his hand hit 
Thomas on the mouth. Recovering, Thomas lunged at 
his senior officer with clenched fist but before he could 
strike he felt his legs swept from under him by someone 
from behind. 

'Tom, you fool, stern all!' cried his second attacker as 
the two fell locked together to the deck and it was not until 
Thomas saw that it was his friend Hamm, the fourth mate, 
that he ceased his struggling. 

'Thanks, Hamm,' he breathed as he rose to his feet. 
'You're right and you probably saved me from spending 
the rest of the voyage as a fo'castle hand.' 

But the shrewd Hamm was not satisfied until he had 
coaxed Thomas well away from the first mate. 

The second day in this bay was spent in taking on water 
from the spring. The full casks were rolled down the 
beach and lashed together into the form of a raft which 
was floated out to the anchored ship. 

When the task was finished Thomas removed his clothes 
and swam naked in the sea. The sight caused great 
surprise among the company for fishermen and whalemen 
have always been notoriously poor swimmers preferring, 
if fate should offer them a watery grave, to enter it with 
the least delay. 

Refreshed by four days' rest, the men sang as they 
weighed anchor and unfurled the sails. Soon the 


Meribah^s dolphin striker was dipping again to the swell of 
the open sea and the brave winds of the Roaring Forties 
were driving her with a bone in her teeth across the Great 
Australian Bight. Within a week she was passing through 
the Bass Straits into the Tasman Sea. 

Between Tasmania and New Zealand the watchful 
eyes aloft espied the prey once more and the boats were 
lowered to give chase. With two more black silhouettes 
of sperm whales in the margin of her logbook to mark 
the kill for the day the ship put her head again towards 
Cape Reingo on the northern tip of New Zealand. 

In the beautiful tree-fringed Bay of Islands, famed as a 
port of call for whaleships, she anchored again and took on 
fresh fruit, vegetables, hogs and wood for her cooking and 
trying-out fires. The men were granted a day's liberty to 
enjoy themselves ashore at the inn where mine host was the 
typical bluff Englishman. 

Thomas and Hamm were entertained by an English 
farmer and his family and late that night as they found 
their way back to the landing stage they overtook a 
strange procession of men from the Meribah. They had 
all supped too well of the local vintages and those who had 
completely succumbed to its potency were being wheeled 
along in borrowed wheelbarrows. The merry mariners 
pushing the barrows were not finding it very easy to keep 
to the rough roadway and two of them were only too 
ready to hand over their duties to the two officers. 

'She's all yours, Mr. Oakley,' sang out one of the men, 
'course nor'-east by east and watch 'er, sir, 'cos she's 
rolling like a barrel.' 

'Aye aye, cap'n,' laughed Thomas and pushed the 
barrow towards a narrow bridge where in the moonlight 
he could see that one of the noisy procession was finding 
some difficulty in m.aking the crossing. Suddenly the 
man's barrow crashed through the rickety wooden rails 
and a moment later its occupant, roused from his slumbers 


by the cold douche, was sitting waist deep in the shallow 
stream singing the opening lines of Stephen Foster's 
sentimental song 'Open thy lattice, love.' 

'Split my topsails!' cried Thomas, recognizing the deep 
bass voice, 'if it isn't old Jamie. Haul him ashore, lads, 
before he founders.' 

It was two hours later that Thomas and Hamm got 
the last of the liberty men safely on board ship. 

At first light all hands were called, the anchor was 
weighed and sail was set. 

Then seven months out from Nantucket and the pre- 
liminaries, as it were, completed, the ship felt her way 
through the silver light of a February dawn out into the 
Pacific where her true objective lay. 

For her company it was the commencement of three 
long years of cruising from one whaling ground to another 
according to the seasonal movements of the sperm whale ; 
three years of burning sun and sudden tropical storm ; of 
constant dangers from hidden reefs in poorly charted 
seas; from hostile natives whose greatest delight was to 
massacre a crew and plunder the ship; from sickness and 
disease that awaited them on the island shores; from the 
dreaded scurvy that knocked the men down like skittles 
when their diet was deficient in fresh fruit and vegetables ; 
and with every new chase after the prey the danger of a 
boat stove in or men drowned by an enraged sperm whale 
which, unlike the right whale, was armed at both ends. 
Three years of fighting the boredom and 'whale sickness' 
that descended upon men during the long weeks when, as 
often happened, no spouts could be sighted ; three years in 
which to fill the hold with oil and even then another six 
months to cross the ten thousand miles to home. It is no 
wonder that these men referred to a whaling voyage of a 
mere few months as a 'plum-puddin'er'. 

During dayhght the ship cruised over the grounds with 
the eyes of her three lookouts sweeping a ten-mile wide 


Strip of ocean but at night the ship was brought to the wind 
and the canvas that had not been furled was so arranged 
that she remained stationary. For Thomas and his fellow 
officers night was the time to sleep whilst a harpooner and 
a few men kept watch on the poop-deck; for upon the 
alertness and cool judgement of the mates depended the 
conduct of the chase and the killing of the whales during 
the hours of daylight. At every dawn the systematic 
search of thousands of square miles was resumed and the 
endless routine of cruising, sighting, chasing and killing 
the whale, cutting and boiling, sleeping and eating, 
coming on and going off watch was relieved only by an 
occasional visit to an island and by any hobbies which 
these men found to their liking. One of the whaleman's 
favourite spare-time occupations was 'scrimshawing', 
which was their term for carving into decorative shapes 
the teeth of the sperm whale. 

Thomas's diary became his hobby. He described in 
detail all the islands that the Meribah visited; he wrote of 
the luxuriantly vegetated archipelago of the Fijis; of the 
friendliness of the people of the Tonga Islands; of the 
breath-taking loveliness of Honolulu in the Hawaii 
islands where every March a huge fleet of whaleships 
made their final preparations to spend the summer in 
the colder waters of the Okhotsk Sea and the Bering 
Straits which were now the only grounds in which the 
bowhead had not been almost exterminated. He told the 
story of how the Meribah repulsed an attack by fifty 
canoes manned by the bloodthirsty natives of the Gilbert 
Islands. For Thomas, as it had been for his ancestor 
Jonathan, sea travel was a constant source of joy and not 
of boredom as it was to Hodge the first mate. 

This rough-grained officer did not abandon his preju- 
dice towards Thomas even when the lean and solemn- 
faced Hamm sought to mend the breach between the two 
men by assuring Hodge that Thomas was not making 


reports to old Mr. Oakley but keeping a diary. Hodge's 
suspicions of the third mate's motives for writing, however, 
were a superficial matter compared to his jealousy of the 
younger man's ability and blithe, friendly and adventur- 
ous nature. 

But the time was to come when the differences between 
the two men were to be put to the real test. 


Stove Boats and 
Dead Whales 

THE Meribah had been in the Pacific just over two years and 
had cruised along the Equator to the arid volcanic Gala- 
pagos Islands. Entering Post Office Bay in Charles 
Island to post letters home in the barrel that had been 
erected for that purpose on the beach she had found at 
anchor the Joseph P. Hart, 2l Yankee whaler homeward 
bound from hunting bowheads in the Bering Straits. The 
right whaler had taken the Meribah' s letters and stayed for 
an evening's "gam". 

The right whalemen had spoken of bowheads in which 
they had found the harpoons of ships known to have been 
in Greenland waters years before and of their belief that 
those whales must have travelled the ice-bound passage 
north of the American continent. Late into the tropical 
night there had been talk of ships met, of boats stove and 
of the New England men who had found their graves in 
the blue waters of the Pacific and the green cold waters of 
the northern seas. 

Then at dawn the two ships had sailed away together 
each dipping her ensign in a final farewell as she went her 
separate way. 


Now with the last volcanic peak dipping below the 
horizon astern the Meribah commenced her return cruise 
westwards along the Line. 

The deck bore ample evidence of the recent visit in the 
form of several giant Galapagos tortoises munching at the 
leaves of cactus. Fresh meat and tasty soups were 
ensured for another few weeks. 

The wind that had borne the ship away from the 
islands failed and the broad spread of canvas hung limply 
overhead. Suddenly the lethargic atmosphere was 
pierced by the sharp call from aloft. 

'There she blo-o-ows! There, there, the-e-re!' 

In a few minutes four crews of sweating oarsmen were 
pulling over the glassy sea in a broad line towards a large 

school of sperm whale four miles to the southward. Fly- 
ing fish shot from under the boat's bows and skimmed 
over the water. 

With still two miles to go Hodge made a silent signal 
that all boats should ship oars and use paddles. Native 
fashion the crews sat along the gunwales and the rhythmic 
dipping of their paddles sent the boats gliding noiselessly 
towards the prey. A single tap of wood on wood could 
'galley' the whales and stampede them like cattle. The 
boats still had a mile to go when the whales showed their 
flukes and went down; and now each mate was left to 
manoeuvre his boat to the best of his judgement. 

Thomas, whose boat was on the left flank, was sure that 


the whales had not been 'galHed' by the casual manner in 
which they had sounded. 'They have gone down to 
feed/ he thought, 'and it will be at least a half-hour before 
they rise again — if Hodge and Jacobs do not scare them.' 
The other boats could go paddling over the whales if 
they wanted but he was not going to risk 'galleying' them. 
If they did take fright and flee, however, he knew from 
long experience that it would be in the direction from 
which the wind had last come. So he would move to the 
south-eastward and be ready to intercept them. 

He pulled the steering oar towards him a little and the 
boat's head swung to larboard. 'Slowly, now, men. Softly,' 
he whispered and the paddles merely kissed the water. 

He saw that Hamm was following his example but that 
Hodge and Jacobs were still forging ahead on the same 

'Easy all,' and he brought his boat to a stop. Standing 
now upon the stern platform he waited. 

Thirty minutes, thirty-five, and then in the same 
position as before the first hump broke the surface and a 
white spout shot into the air. 

'They are still quiet, men,' whispered Thomas, as he 
saw more whales rising. 'Give way with the paddles.' 

With Hamm close astern and Hodge and Jacobs about 
two miles away beyond the school he closed to make his 

'Stand up, Jamie,' he ordered and the harpooner 
shipped his paddle and stood ready. 

Then in one of the four boats someone whose nerves 
were not perhaps so steady as usual must have touched 
the hull with his paddle ; for, led by a huge hundred barrel 
bull, the whole school suddenly set off along the surface at 
about ten knots, which was three times their normal cruis- 
ing speed. Their direction, as Thomas had expected, 
was to the south-eastward and they were coming straight 
towards his boat and Hamm's. 

^ /^ Ifie' quickly ascertained 

"^^ tke^eneral state of Ihekunb 


'We'll go for the big bull at the front, Jamie, and take 
him by the head,' said Thomas in a voice that was only 
just audible. 'Just a few silent strokes, men, to keep us 
between his eyes.' 

Now the sperm whale has its small eyes set in the sides of 
its broad head and is unable to see right ahead any more 
than it is able to see right astern ; and it was probable that 
this big bull leading his family of wives and children away 
from the noise that it had heard was quite unaware of the 
boat that waited in its path. 

Hamm's boat, however, had taken up a similar position 
in front of one of the smaller female whales grouped on 
either quarter of their leader and the old bull must have 
seen this craft as it came within the vision of his left eye, 
for he suddenly swerved a httle to the right. 

'Give way together,' cried Thomas and the paddles bit 
the water shooting the craft towards the oncoming whale. 
Jamie's two barbed harpoons flew through the air in quick 
succession and sank into the big fellow's back. He 
sounded at once and the whale-Hne hummed as it flew 
out of the bow. Thomas checked the line and the 
friction became so great that smoke rose from the logger- 

'Wet the line!' cried Thomas and the nearest man 
plunged his cap into the sea and dashed water over the 
loggerhead and into the tub. 

Glancing round he quickly ascertained the general 
state of the hunt. Hamm's boat had fastened to the 
female whale which had not adopted the usual tactics of 
sounding but was taking the craft on a 'Nantucket sleigh- 
ride' at great speed over the sea. Hodge's boat had 
caught up with the stragglers of the school and the burly 
first mate was standing on the bow platform throwing his 
lance in the manner known as 'pitchpolling'. Unable to 
bring his boat within harpoon range of the fast swimming 
whales he had taken the harpooner's place in the bow and 


with a line attached to his barbless lance was successively 
casting it at the rearmost whale and retrieving it into his 
hands. Jacob's boat had still not made contact. One 
by one the cachalots were sounding but Thomas knew 
that they must be winded after their fast swim and would 
soon be up again to blow and fill their lungs. All this he 
observed in the few seconds that he took his eyes from the 

'Haul in, haul in!' he called as he felt the line slacken in 
his hand; and he ran along the thwarts to take up his 
position for lancing in the bows, while Jamie took his place 
in the stern (hence the harpooner's alternative name of 
'boatsteerer' and the mate's of 'boatheader'). 

Then directly below him in the blue depths Thomas saw 
something large and white rising quickly to the surface. 
It was the inside of the bull whale's wide open mouth. 

*Vast hauling and stern all!' he shouted. 

Before his crew could execute the order the whale's 
lower jaw, rising uppermost as the monster rolled on its 
back, grated the boat's midships planks on one side whilst 
the bulky upper jaw appeared from the water on the 

The boat, held in the whale's mouth, was lifted clean 
out of the water and the men scrambled to the bow and 
stern. Then the jaws closed with a snap and the craft fell 
back into the water in two shattered halves. 

Thomas came to the surface unhurt among a mass of 
splintered wreckage. He saw Jamie and two others 
clinging to the severed stern and caught the collar of Sam 
his negro oarsman as he was about to bid farewell to the 
whaling life. Alas, the little Portuguese who manned 
the second oar had already done so, for the only sign of 
him was his straw hat floating sadly nearby. The whale- 
line had apparently escaped being broken, for the bow 
half of the boat had been towed under by the whale. 
Even as he made this last observation Thomas saw the 


bow rise to the surface a hundred yards away and knew 
that the manilla Hne had at last parted under the strain. 

He bore his half-drowned comrade to the submerged 
stern and Jamie gave him a hand to keep the negro 

Then hearing shouts he raised his head and saw a 
boat hauling up to a whale that had just surfaced nearby. 
Hodge had at last got near enough to sink a harpoon into 
his whale and was standing in the bows with his lance 

ready. With only a few yards to go the whale suddenly 
began rolling and like a huge spindle wound the line 
around its body and jerked it from the men's grasp. 
Somewhere in the boat a coil must have fouled; perhaps 
it caught an oar or a man's limb. Before Hodge could 
draw his knife and cut it free the boat was being pulled 
down bows first under the whale's spinning body. Hodge 
fell clear but so quickly did the whole thing happen 
that only one of his five men had the presence of mind to 
jump and save himself from being pulled under with 
the boat. That man was yelling lustily for help but 


Hodge, obviously hurt, was struggling feebly in the 
tormented waters around the whale. 

'Any of you who can swim follow me,' said Thomas. 
'Jamie, you can't, I know, so look after Sam.' 

He reached Hodge just in time but none of the others 
were able to relinquish the support of the wreck to go to 
the help of the other man. As he towed Hodge to safety 
he could see the fellow now quietly holding on to a large 
piece of wreckage ; but of the other four men there was 
no sign. 

It was not until Hamm and Jacobs had killed their 
whales that they fully realised the fate of their comrades. 
When they saw what had happened they brought their 
boats alongside and rescued all survivors from the sea in 
which several sharks were already growing dangerously 

Two whales had been killed at the cost of five dead men 
and two stove boats. The whaleboats were replaceable 
but the Meribah would find herself short of men for the rest 
of the voyage unless fresh volunteers could be found 
among the natives of the Pacific islands. 

Two days later Hodge, lying in his bunk on board the 
Meribah sent word by the cabin boy that he would like to 
speak to Thomas. He looked up from under his band- 
aged brow as the younger man entered the cabin. 

'Hamm has just told me that you saved my life, Oakley,' 
he said gruffly, 'and I'd like to — to thank you.' 

Thomas said nothing. He was looking for the first 
time at six miniature paintings on a shelf over Hodge's 

The older man followed his gaze. 'They'll be thankful 
too,' he said, 'even though they only see me for a few 
months every four years.' 

'It's a long time to be away from your family,' said 

'Makes a man a bit crusty as he gets older,' said Hodge. 


*but I don't suppose a young bachelor like yourself would 
realise that, eh?' 

'He might/ replied Thomas thoughtfully, 'if there was 
a lass waiting for him in New England.' 

Hodge closed his eyes and Thomas standing by the bunk 
looked down at the face so pale now from loss of blood. 
He saw the rough features twitch nervously within their 
framework of bandages and he guessed that the man was 
struggling with some deep emotion. 

Slowly the eyes opened again and when Hodge spoke 
all trace of the old harshness had gone from his voice. 

'You know, Oakley, being bedridden gives a man a 
chance to do a bit of thinkin'. It's like — like as if a man 
goes into the wilderness away from all the devils that have 
plagued him. He's able to see himself anew; I suppose 
you might say to — to see himself as God might see him.' 
He paused and looked straight up at the younger man's 
face. 'I was young and keen Hke you once but my runnin' 
riggin' got fouled somehow. After I was made first mate 
I always hankered after a command of my own but it 
never came my way. I blamed everyone but myself and 
that's where I went adrift. I thought that being a good 
whaleman and navigator was enough but I was wrong. 
It needs more than just that to take a ship and thirty-odd 
souls on a four-year voyage round the world : it needs an 
understanding of men and that's something I never gave 
much thought to. Ah well, it's too late now for an old 
shellback like me to change his markin's. Perhaps if ' 

But his soliloquy was cut short by the old time-worn cry 
from above. 

'There she blo-o-o-o-o-ows!' 

Automatically Thomas leapt for the companionway but 
half-way up the ladder he stopped and called back over 
his shoulder. 

'It's never too late to try Mr. Hodge. There isn't a 
better whaleman than you in the whole Nantucket fleet 


and I've got a feeling there's a new star shining for you 
this voyage if you'll only put your jibboom towards it.' 

'Maybe you're right, son,' called Hodge with a note of 
humour in his voice, 'but it ain't no time to stand gammin' 
with whales spoutin'. . . .' 

But Thomas was already on deck racing towards his 


Homeward Bound 

CAPTAIN GALLOWAY had become very impatient. The 
return cruise along the Line had done Httle to increase the 
oil cargo. The Merit ah had met a big English whaler 
which had filled her holds twenty-three months out from 
Hull and a German whaler seventeen months out from 
Bremen which had killed only eleven whales. 

Having taken on fresh victuals and found three replace- 
ments for his crew among the natives in the Marquesas 
Islands the captain decided to let his ship try her fortune 
on the grounds that lay south of the Equator offshore of the 
Spanish Main ; for it was November, the month when the 
season there began. 

During the two months that followed there were many 
in the Meribah who believed that all the sperm whales in 
the Pacific had assembled within a small area of the tropics 
between the latitudes of go and i oo degrees west. Some 
days whales were killed at a greater rate than the blubber 
could be cut and tried-out and the cargo increased so 
rapidly that soon there was not an empty barrel in the 
ship. When every odd tub and bucket had been filled 
and sealed the men caulked their sea chests and filled 
those with oil. 

When at last one of the men asked if he could use the 
coffee-pots Captain Galloway decided that it was time to 
set course for home. 


He stood upon the poop-deck and beamed down at 
the men who stood expectantly by the smoke-blackened 
try- works. He knew full well the words they were wait- 
ing for him to speak. 

'All right men, over the side with that pile of bricks,' he 

To the accompaniment of yells of joy the now super- 
fluous burden of the try-works was thrown brick by brick 

into the sea until only the coppers and the shallow cooling 
tray remained. 

'You can keep those to float your toy boats in,' called 
the captain for he had seen some of the men making ship 
models during the earlier weeks of inactivity. 'And now, 
Mr. Hodge,' addressing the first mate who had long 
recovered from his injuries, 'set course for Talcahuano on 


the Chile coast. We'll recruit fresh victuals there and 
head for Cape Horn and home.' 

Off Cape Horn the relentless west winds blew with their 
utmost fury and twelve barrels of the precious oil were 
emptied on to the mountainous seas to help the battered 
ship to safety. She limped into the Falkland Islands for 
repairs and then spreading her patched sails set her 
jibboom northward. As the latitudes grew lower spirits 
rose high, for this was the Atlantic whose waters lapped 
the Nantucket shores. 

In the pale sunlight of an April morning Thomas was 
helping to warp the Meribah alongside the wharf at Nan- 
tucket when he caught sight of his father and mother arm 
in arm with a girl of twenty among the cheering, waving 
crowd on the shore. As soon as the ship was made fast he 
leapt on to the wharf, embraced his mother and shook his 
father warmly by the hand. The girl stood shyly apart 
with eyes lowered until Thomas taking her by the hands 
kissed her softly on the cheek. 

Captain Galloway leant over the taffrail and waved to 
Thomas's father. 

*We did it again, Henry,' he shouted with a broad grin 
on his weather-beaten face. 'We filled her holds to 
the hatches inside the four years. But it's the last time 
for me. I'm getting too old. You can let Mr. Hodge 
take her next voyage.' 

That evening in a room of the Oakley house overlooking 
the harbour the diaries of Jonathan and Thomas rested in 
an honoured place next to the family Bible for all future 
generations of Oakleys to read. 

Part Three : 
Peter, Carl and Hans 


The Old Oaken Chest 

IN THE WESTFOLD district of Norway there lives to-day a 
community which is a modern counterpart of that which 
once flourished in Nantucket. It owes its prosperity to 
its speciaHsed knowledge of whale hunting and yet, like 
the people of old Nantucket its roots are in its homeland 

In one of the farmhouses of this district on a wintry 
February evening in the year 1 954 a broad weatherbeaten 
man in his middle fifties was replacing some old documents 
and books in an oak chest. His name was Olafsen; Peter 
Oakley Olafsen, and this was the first winter since boy- 
hood that he had not sailed south with the whaling fleets. 
Gout had finally forced him to bid farewell to the rigours 
of the Antarctic whaling and to admit that it was a life 
for younger men like his son Carl. 

The twelve-year-old boy sprawling at Peter's feet before 


the roaring log fire was Carl's son and his blue eyes 
watched intently as the rough hands of the farmer whale- 
man replaced the contents of the chest. 

'Are they very old, Grandpa, those books ?' he asked. 

*Yes, Hans, they are indeed,' replied Peter, his grizzled 
features lighting with pleasure at the boy's interest. 
'They are the diaries written by our whalemen ancestors 
on my grandmother's side; she came from Scotland but 
was American by birth. A lad named Jonathan Oakley 
wrote the first of these when he was the same age as you 
and the other set was written by Thomas Oakley who was 
my great-grandfather.' 

'Yes, I've heard father talk of them and know a good 
deal about them, already,' said Hans. 'And all those 
papers and letters, some of those are in English too, aren't 
they?' he asked. 

'Yes,' replied his grandfather, but all the recent ones 
are in our own Norwegian.' 

'How did the EngHsh diaries come to be in this farm in 
the Westfold ?' the boy asked, looked very serious. 

'That, Hans, was something that I wanted to discover 
for certain when I started delving into this old chest a 
few weeks ago. It makes quite a tale. Let me put 
another log on the fire and I'll tell you about it — if you're 
interested, that is.' 

'Of course I am. Grandpa,' said the boy eagerly as he 
watched Peter put the log on the fire and then sit back 
and light his stubby pipe. 

'Thomas Oakley,' began Peter, 'started his diary as a 
young man when his mother presented him with the one 
written by Jonathan. His home, as you may know, was 
in Nantucket in America and his fortunes first thrived 
and then dwindled as the sperm whaling industry of that 
once prosperous little island fell into decline. From about 
1850 kerosene began to replace sperm oil as a means of 
lighting streets and houses and by 1870 the ships that 


Thomas owned lay rotting at their moorings. Nantucket 
had weathered many storms but this time Thomas knew 
that its days of prosperity were ended. But sperm 
whahng was the only business that Thomas and his only 
son Edward knew, so they refitted one of their whaleships 
and sold up the rest together with the house and shipyard 
that Jonathan had founded, then with Mrs. Oakley and 
the three daughters they sailed to Britain where the sperm 
whale industry was still thriving. They settled in Dundee 
where sperm oil was wanted for the jute industry and 
once more Thomas and his son sailed to the Pacific after 
the cachalots. These were not so easy to find after being 
hunted so intensely for a century but the Oakleys brought 
back enough oil to show good profits. 

'Then Jane, Thomas's second daughter, met a man 
from our own country. His name was Erik Olafsen and 
he was mate of a Norwegian whaler visiting Dundee. 
Jane married him and sailed with him across the North 
Sea to his home in Norway. Here great new changes 
were taking place in the old industry of whaling. 

'The firing of a harpoon from a gun which so many men 
had attempted through the centuries had at last been 
perfected in 1872 by a man named Svend Foyn; and what 
is more, the barbed harpoon head had been fitted with a 
charge that exploded on entering the whale and so killed 
it more quickly. Foyn had mounted his guns in the bows 
of schooners propelled by the new-fangled steam engine 
and had made it possible at last to kill the bigger species 
of the rorquals, the blue and the fin whales, which had 
always been too fast a target for the hand harpoon 
thrown from a rowing boat. It was their speed which had 
saved them from being killed oflf like the right whales. 

'The rorquals, which you can tell by the fluting on 
their throats and the fin on their backs, are members of the 
baleen family but are more streamlined than the right 
whales ; and the blue and fin whales are the largest of all 


living creatures. I have killed cow blue whales over a 
hundred feet long, though sad to say, not so many in 
recent years. They feed on the small creatures we call 
"krill" and you can make your own guess as to how 
many pints of these shrimps it must take to build up a 
body weighing a hundred and twenty tons. Why, even 
their babies are twenty-four feet long at birth. The 
rorqual's baleen is shorter than the right whale's, but that 
did not matter to Foyn. He knew that it was their oil 
that the world needed, for such things as soaps and the 
treating of textiles. 

*My grandfather, Erik Olafsen, sailed in Foyn's steam 
whalers from the land station at Varangerfiord on the 
Finmark coast. They used to bring the whales to the 
shore for flensing just as they used to do in Jonathan's 
days — only then it was called "cutting in". They did so 
well up there in the Arctic that other countries tried to 
copy them and Foyn was forced to protect the industry he 
had created by obtaining from the King the right to 
exclude all other nations for a period often years. At the 
end of that time the other countries sent their whale 
catchers swarming into the Arctic with the new lethal 
harpoon guns. When they were too far from land stations 
they brought their whales to a mother ship equipped with 
boiling vats. In a few seasons the rorquals in the Arctic 
were practically exterminated and it was the sad story of 
the Greenland whale all over again. 

'So Foyn made up his mind to find new grounds and 
in 1893 sent a ship to the Antarctic on the other side of 
the globe. She returned with reports that the sea there 
was teeming with whales. Shortly afterwards Foyn died 
in the happy knowledge that the future of the industry was 
still assured. 

'By now the four sons of Grandpa and Grandma 
Olafsen had grown up and followed their father into the 
whaKng industry. They sailed from the harbours of 


Sandefiord and Tonsberg on the west side of the great 
Oslo Fiord. Those boys made plenty of money at whaling 
but old Grandma Olafsen made sure they didn't waste 
it. She still remembered the sad days of the Nantucket 
whalers rotting at their moorings and whalemen sitting 
idle on the wharves. So she got them to invest their 
money in farmland here in the Westfold. To these, she 
said, they and their sons after them could return when 
they grew too old to hunt the whale; and if fortune 
ceased to favour them on the sea they could work on the 
land instead. 

'Every few years Grandma stole time from her busy life 
of farming and looking after my father and his brothers to 
visit her side of the family in Dundee across the water. It 
was on one of these occasions that her brother Edward 
suggested that the proper place for all the old whaHng 
relics and heirlooms was in her home in Norway. He had 
retired from whaling and had no sons to carry on the 
tradition. So she brought them back with her to the 
farm in this oak chest and it lay in the attic, unopened as 
far as I know, until one day after I had retired I took it 
into my head to see what was inside. And that's how it 
came about, Hans, that I found the diaries and all these 
old documents and letters.' 

Hans was lying on his back looking up at the ceiling. 
*And I suppose some of these letters were written by you 
and your father, Grandpa?' 

*Yes, Hans, and they could tell the rest of the story.' 

'Let me hear it then, please. Grandpa,' said Hans 
rolling over on his tummy. 

Tt's late and near your bedtime, boy, but as my ship- 
load of thoughts is still bowling along with a bone in her 
teeth, as you might say, I might as well give her her head. 

'In 1904 my father, Roald Olafsen, went with Larsen as 
a gunner on the expedition that opened the first land 
whaling station in the Antarctic. The British granted 


them concessions to operate from South Georgia, one of 
the Falkland Island Dependencies. Every season the 
Norwegians sent more and more catchers down there. 
At first they brought their whales to the shore for flensing 
and the blubber was boiled in the factory on the shore in 
the old-fashioned way. But as the area became scarce of 
whales and they had to go further afield they began to 
use ships of about ten thousand tons which carried the 
factory on board. The factory ships usually had to find 
a quiet anchorage in some bay on the Antarctic coast 
because the open water was too rough for them to receive 
whales and flense them alongside. Then small catchers 
were still not fast or manoeuvrable enough to keep up with 
the fast swimming rorquals. So they lay in wait in a 
likely area and harpooned them as they broke surface and 
after a bit of a battle got them alongside and took them 
to the factory ship. They did not kill a lot by modern 
standards and the factory ships wasted a great deal 
because of their limited plant. By now the world wanted 
whale oil for the newly invented margarine as well as for 
other things Hke soap and explosives. A better kind of 
factory ship was wanted to cope with the demand. Then 
someone suggested that if a ship could cut her whales on 
her decks instead of alongside she would not have to sit 
in the quiet bays but would be able to work anywhere 
no matter how rough the sea. So the shipbuilders went 
to work and we moved on to the modern age of whaHng — 
deep-sea or pelagic whaling as it is sometimes called. 

'It so happened that I went south in a catcher in 1924 
with the first factory ship to have a whale slip built into its 
stern. You can imagine the excitement when the first 
whale was hauled on deck. Then there was the improved 
factory plant and to match all this we had bigger and 
faster catchers that were quicker on the helm. For the 
first time we found that we could keep on to the tail of a 
blue or a fin whale. 

eio blg^ jixctoru 
6 kips covdcC soualloco 
Iweritii t4jkale6 a day 


*The world was hungry for oil and we were the ones to 
get it. Britain, Holland, Germany, South Africa and 
Japan sent their ships to reap the harvests of oil from the 
Antarctic waters and in every case, if the ships were not 
actually manned by men of Sandefiord and Tonsberg then 
the crews had been trained by them. 

'New big factory ships could swallow twenty whales 
a day through the tunnels in their sterns. Their improved 
factories could boil oil not only from the blubber but 
from the flesh, the bones and the insides ; and to-day they 
can take the oil from the liver to help sickly children grow 
strong; they can turn the meat into concentrated extract 
for invalids, they can dehydrate the flesh into meal for feed- 
ing livestock ; and they can produce valuable by-products 
such as insulin, hormones and fertilisers. Strangely 
enough the one part of the whale which is discarded is the 
baleen which before the invention of plastic substitutes 
could fetch as much as £2,000 per ton. 

'Yes, Hans, the whales in the Antarctic have played 
their part in helping a troubled hungry world through 
the difficulties of this twentieth century.' 

But Hans looked puzzled. 'But, Grandpa,' he asked, 
'isn't there a danger that the whales down south will be 
almost exterminated like the ones up north were?' 

A new look of caution came into Peter's blue deep-set 
eyes. Han's question had hit him quite unexpectedly in 
the most vulnerable corner of his conscience and he needed 
a few puffs of his pipe to recover his mental equilibrum. 

'That's quite a question, Hans. It was something 
that we harpooners never gave much thought to until 
others with more foresight brought us to our senses. 
Luckily our government saw the danger and in 1929 
they stopped us killing whales with young, and then they 
forbade the old out-dated wasteful factory ships to 
operate. Then they got together with the British and 
put a little more common sense into our heads. The 


hunting period was limited and each expedition was 
allowed to take only a certain quota of whales. They 
gave us another difficult pill to swallow just before World 
War II when they told us we were not to kill whales below 
certain lengths. Somehow I think they overlooked the 
humpback whale so we gunners made use of him to bring 
up the average of our kills and boost our precious reputa- 
tions — so much so, that after the war they made him 
absolutely taboo south of the fortieth latitude. They have 
lifted the taboo recently but they still keep a very watch- 
ful eye on the welfare of Mr. Humpback. After the war 
all the nations with whaling ships engaged in the Antarctic 
fishery formed an international commission for the 
regulation of whaling and in 1 946 they issued a long list of 
restrictions that made many a poor gunner dizzy to read. 
South of the fortieth latitude the season for baleen whales 
was reduced to a period of just over three months between 
January 2nd and April yth. It was forbidden to kill a 
blue whale under seventy feet, a fin under sixty feet, a sei 
(one of the smaller rorquals) under forty feet, a humpback 
under thirty-five feet and a sperm under thirty-eight 
feet. I had to learn to judge the whale's length by the 
breadth of the part he showed above the water and that 
wasn't so easy when there was a gale on and the catcher's 
bows doing a jig. The total catch of baleen whales for all 
expeditions in the Southern Ocean was fixed at sixteen 
thousand blue whale units for each season. One blue 
whale equalled two fin or six sei and each factory ship had 
to make weekly radio reports of the numbers caught. If 
the sixteen thousand units was reached before April 7th 
then the Commission headquarters declared the season 
ended and we had to console ourselves with killing some 
sperm whale before we came home. All the whales 
had to be flensed within thirty-three hours of being killed 
to ensure good quality oil. And to make sure that all 
these rules were observed the Commission put a pair of 


inspectors on each factory ship. It was woe betide any 
gunner who left his number on a whale below the mini- 
mum length or one that he had killed before he realised 
that it was with young. 

'I can tell you, Hans, I did some swearing at first, but 
I realise now that if it had not been for all these restrictions 
there would not be many whales left in the Antarctic for 
your father.' 

Hans looked up at his grandfather. 'Nor for me 
either, when I go whaling,' he said. 'Father will be home 
again in a few months. I wonder what sort of season he 
will have had.' 

Carl Olafsen had signed as a harpooner to a British 
expedition and had sailed from Tonsberg last October as 
the brown autumn leaves were falling. 


Steel Ships and 

CARL WAS THIRTY-FIVE, fair-haired and blue-eyed like the 
rest of his family and the chill Antarctic air had still not 
reached the bones of his broad frame after seventeen 
seasons whaling. His whale catcher was waiting for him 
in South Georgia where with others she had been refitted 
during the southern winter. The gunner already appoin- 
ted to her had gone sick and to join her it was necessary to 
take passage either in the British factory ship or in the 
tanker assigned to the expedition. Carl went in the 
Wanderer, the massive twenty-five-thousand-ton floating 

She carried a hundred men for the catchers and towing 
boats as well as the four hundred who navigated her, 


worked her engines and her factory and flensed her 
whales. She carried scientists, meteorologists, men from 
a film company and a young English doctor not long out of 
medical college. Her captain and lord over all the fleet 
of catchers was a burly Norwegian of forty; her chief 
engineer was a small wiry Scot from Glasgow and the tall 
mate in charge of the whaling deck could remember the 
days when the Scottish whalers sailed from his native 
Dundee; the factory manager was from Tonsberg and 
almost the whole of the rank and file came from the 
Westfold district of Norway. 

From the distance the ship herself can be distinguished 
as a whaler chiefly by the twin funnels abreast her after 
deckhouse and the huge square port in her stern; but on 
board it is the uninterrupted expanse of her main deck that 
is most noticeable. You can stand under the bridge and 
look aft through the archway in the midships deckhouse 
as far as the whale slip which slopes down to the sea under 
the after deckhouse. This broad deck where the whales 
are flensed and cut is the dividing level between the upper 
and lower storeys of this floating industrial town. Above 
are the quarters of the men who work the ship, the wheel- 
house which contains every modern navigational device, 
the numerous winches and the derricks which haul the 
whales, the mechanical saws which cut up the bones and 
the lifeboats which everyone hopes will never be used in 
earnest. Below are the great oil-burning engines that 
drive the ship and supply the power for her plant, the 
tanks that can be used for storing either fuel or whale oil, 
the deep holds that contain the sacks of whalemeal and 
last of all the factory plant itself which stretches nearly the 
whole length and breadth of the ship on the deck below the 
whaling deck. The factory is fed with its raw material, 
blubber, flesh and bones through the rows of circular 
holes that can be opened in the whaling deck by removing 
the iron discs that cover them. 


The Wanderer put into Leith in Scotland to complete her 
final preparations at the whaling company's headquarters 
and then with all the paraphernalia of modern whaling 
heaped upon her spacious deck she steamed south to take 
on fuel oil at Fawley in the Southampton Water. 

Down channel she groped her way through a dense 
November fog and in mountainous seas in the Bay of 
Biscay was joined by two of the catchers which had been 
undergoing repairs in South Shields. 

There was no mistaking those fast cheeky little four- 
hundred-ton ships with their catwalks reaching from 
bridge to gun platform and their narrow hulls low in the 
middle and rising steeply to the bows. Carl knew only 
too well how uncomfortable life must be on board those 
catchers at that moment as he watched them plunging 
into waves that sometimes seemed to wash right over them. 

During the passage the whole area of the Wanderer^ s 
broad whaling deck and every other deck and alleyway 
where the spiked boots of the whalemen would tread 
during the fishing season were covered with a protective 
layer of planking to avoid damaging the permanent 
wooden decks. 

The big ship with two of her children at her heel sailed 
over the blue sea of the tropics and through the Roaring 
Forties till she found the rest of her brood waiting for her 
off the island of New Georgia. There was a big tanker 
with them, ready to refill the Wanderer's fuel tanks. 

Catcher No. 9 waited her turn and then came alongside. 
Carl with all his belongings climbed into a huge basket 
which was swung by a derrick off the Wanderer's deck and 
down to the catcher lying under her tall iron sides. 
Between the two a large newly killed sperm whale acted as 
a fender. On the catcher's bridge Carl was greeted 
warmly by the bearded mate who handed over command. 
Then when the catcher had taken the rest of her crew, 
her harpoons, ammunition, food and other stores Carl 


gave the order to cast off from the mother ship. The 
engine telegraphs rang, the screw churned the blue water 
to white foam and Carl's eighteenth season began. 

During the rest of November and the whole of Decem- 
ber the expedition could kill only sperm whale for which 
the season was open eight months of the year. You never 
know what price sperm oil is going to fetch to-day for its 
uses are quite different from those of oil from baleen 

whales, but the British Ministry of Food will always pay 
a fair price for the meal that can be dehydrated from 
the flesh. 

It was in search of the more valuable baleen whales that 
this ;£'3 million worth of shipping had come from the other 
side of the globe on a ^(^i million expedition. 

On Christmas Day Carl's catcher sheltered from a 
howling gale under the lee of a big iceberg and her 
company did their best to celebrate while the little ship 
rolled her scuppers under. 

As the baleen season approached the tanker arrived 
from South Africa and moored to the Wanderer. In return 
for fuel oil she took the factory ship's cargo of sperm oil. 
Then she headed north bound for Liverpool and the nine 
catchers and the two towing boats nestled up to the 
mother ship while she gave them fuel oil, food stores and 
long awaited letters from home. 

The factory's empty tanks, vats and plumbing were 



cleaned of the last remnants of sperm oil with boiling salt 
water, for the oil of the big toothed whale is quite different 
chemically from that of the baleen whales. 

The radio chattered with cross-talk in Norwegian, 
Dutch, German and English as the Wanderer^s operators 
tuned into the wave lengths of rival expeditions. Every- 
one was closing into the edge of the ice that sits like a white 
cap on the south polar regions. 

Then at 24.00 hours on January ist the catchers were 
released like a pack of hungry hounds and the hunt for 
baleen whales was on. It was now every catcher and 
every expedition for itself and the devil take the hindmost. 

With the catcher throbbing along at fifteen knots Carl 
stood on the bridge peering through the half-light of the 
early dawn that follows the brief Antarctic night. Aloft 
in the crows-nest the lookout circled his big binoculars 
around the flat mirror of the sea on which the ice floes lay 
scattered like pieces of broken white china. On some of 


them seals with large pathetic eyes seemed completely to 
ignore the grey catcher ploughing the smooth green sea 
into white foam. 

*There she blo-o-o-ows !' The cry from aloft sent every 
man running to his station. 'Two points on the port 

Carl took the wheel and put the catcher's bow on the 
bearing. Then through the wheelhouse window he saw 
a single whale spouting a mile ahead. 

'Take over, Berndt,' he said to the mate and ran along 
the catwalk that bridged the space between the wheel- 
house and the gun platform. Below him as he ran men 
were manning the whaleline winches on the foredeck. 

The gun was always kept loaded when hunting was in 
progress and the head of the harpoon projected from the 
nozzle. Hanging from it and coiled down on the fore part 
of the platform was the sixty fathom of light nylon rope 
that connected the harpoon with its thick manilla whale 
line hidden below. 

Carl gripped the slender butt of the gun in one hand 
and kept the other free for signalling orders to the mate 
in the wheelhouse behind him. 

The whale which he could now see was a big blue, 
rolled its back, showed its fin and sounded a few hundred 
yards ahead. 

'Stop engine!' The catcher glided to the spot where 
the whirlpools still showed. 

Everything was suddenly very still. Everyone waited 
tense and ready ; Carl at the gun, Berndt at the wheel and 
the engineers below with their eyes on the telegraphs. 
Five minutes, ten, then 

'There she is blowing to port! Full ahead! Hard 

Again the fifteen-knot chase was on but again the whale 
sounded before Carl could get near enough to shoot. 

Four more times the catcher drove the whale under, 


giving her no time to refresh her lungs. Then she broke 
surface to starboard well within the hundred yards range 
of the gun. 

Carl swung the gun, sighted and pressed the trigger. 
The ship shook with the explosion and the harpoon 
flashed through the air with the nylon forerunner snaking 
after it and as it hit the blue-grey shape there was a 
second duller explosion. The whale sounded and the 
manilla whale line went whistling out through the fairlead 
in the bows. 

'Fish on!' The cry echoed through the ship. Whale- 
men still call the whale a fish though all the world now 
knows that it is a mammal. 

But this is coarse fishing compared with the light rod 
and fly methods in the days when the wooden whaleboat 
with a thin manilla line running round a loggerhead 
played a monster a hundred times her own weight. Now 
it is a four-hundred-ton ship with a 2000 h.p. engine, a 
manilla line three times as thick, winches to haul and veer 
and big steel springs to take the shock from a whale that is 
usually mortally wounded from the start anyway. But 
let no one say that it is not still the most thrilling of big 
game hunting. 

Very carefully so that the harpoon should not be pulled 
out the whale was hauled to the ship. It lashed once with 
its tail and then dying, rolled on its side to reveal the 
white corrugated skin of its throat. 

When it was hauled to ship a hole was made in its side, 
a valve inserted and air pumped in to prevent it from 
sinking. The hole was stoppered, the tail flukes were 
trimmed and a wire sling fitted round the small of the tail. 
The number of the catcher and the whale were carved on 
its side and a bamboo with a flag on it erected on the 
summit — and all at great speed for there was a school of 
fin whales spouting to the southward. 

Away went Catcher No. 9 with Carl standing ready at 




JcuZofif Skip hkndcrer ' receiving, fUnsi n^ and cuUl n^ 
bculecn ojha.Us killed by catchers and diUv&yed hif toujin^ 
vessels. 7ke tanker steams OMay a-yui oid aw^on^ the. 
loose pojok'ice the C/Uchers ccnti7w.e JiuydiTy- 


his gun on the high bows. A wind was rising and the 
salt spray was caking on his beard. 

While the catchers continued hunting whales the two 
towing boats, converted ex-naval corvettes, plodded round 
collecting the inflated carcasses. With two or three 
lashed by heavy chains on either side they took them to 
the factory ship where they were moored to her stern 
to await their turn to go up the slip. Killer whales 
cruised among them waiting for a chance to bite out the 

Carl's big blue was whale No. i. A hawser was 
shackled to the sling on its tail. One of the fishing 
winches above the slipway spat steam as its drum began to 
rotate. The hawser went taut and the whale parted 
company from the others and entered the square tunnel 
tail first. It surged in the waves that washed the slipway 
and would have snapped the thick wire but for the big 
steel springs hidden under the deck plates near the 
fishing winch. Another winch rattled and massive iron 
claws descended from the roof of the tunnel to clasp the 
tail of the whale. Now the midships winches took over 
and whale No. i continued its way up the incline and 
reached that half of the main whaling deck known as the 
blubber plane. 

Here the Commission's inspector, a retired naval com- 
mander, armed with notebook and tape measure, made 
sure that it was not in milk. He could see at a glance that 
this big blue was well above the minimum length. 

The tail claws were lifted clear and sent aft for the next 
whale while the razor-sharp knives of the flensers were 
already making deep cuts from head to tail. Soon the 
longitudinal strips were being torn from the whale by 
the smaller winches. In a short while the white carcass, 
looking like a huge peeled banana, was hauled under the 
archway in the midships deckhouse by yet another set of 
winches mounted on the forward part of the ship. The 


whale as such had reached the end of its journey. This 
was the meat plane and no place for the squeamish. 
Flesh, intestines, heart, liver, everything was separated. 
The dark figures of the high-booted men moved like an 
army of ants among the huge, dripping, shapeless masses of 
red and white. Mechanical saws hummed as they cut 
through the bones. Winches rattled and white vapour 
floated like smoke over the scene of a bloody battle. 

The littered pieces that less than an hour ago had been 
whale No. i were gradually swallowed through the 
factory's gaping mouths that lay in rows along the deck. 
Whale No. 2 was a white ghost of its former self and No. 3 
was on its way up the slip. Twenty whales a day and 
every one worth an average of £1,500. 

Yes, like all great industries whaling has been mechan- 
ised. No longer is the whale the enemy as it was in the 
times of Jonathan and Thomas. It is only the weather 
that the modern whaleman has to fight; especially in the 

Carl would sight whales in a flat calm and an hour later 
would be chasing them in a roaring gale. He would run 
his ship to the shelter of a berg and curse the wasted days 
that the catcher lay there waiting for the wind to stop 
screaming. Sometimes fog would lay a veil over the sea 
and make it impossible to sight whale, or ice would cover 
the catcher with a coat of white that jammed the whaling 
gear. No wonder that men like Carl had to be tough and 

Yet in Carl there was also the rare quality of imagin- 
ation just as there had been in old Svend Foyn. Perhaps 
it was the blood of Jonathan in his veins. 

One day far out of sight of the Wanderer he pointed his 
catcher's bows towards a spot where seabirds were wheel- 
ing over the water. It was a sign that often revealed the 


presence of whale. To his surprise a helicopter appeared 
from out of the blue sky and dropped a smoke marker 
amongst the screaming birds. Hull down over the 
horizon he saw through his binoculars the three islands' 
of a strange factory ship and on the stern island a big 
structure which was obviously an aeroplane hangar. 
Bustling across the water with a white bone in her teeth 
was a rival catcher. She was making for the smoke 
marker, guided no doubt by radio-telephone directions 
from the helicopter. 

A school of fin whales broke surface near the marker and 
for the next hour Carl was too busy trying to outwit both 
whales and the rival catcher to think of much else. But 
when with justifiable pride he had stuck his flags on two 
dead whales to the stranger's one and was leaning on the 
windbreak of the bridge enjoying a pipe he found that the 
incident had made a deep impression on his mind. 

That helicopter had only been spotting whales. Was 
there any reason why some time in the future it should not 
be able to kill them as well ? 

The traditional whaleman in Carl fought in vain to 
banish this idea which, nourished by earlier rumours 
heard in the Wanderer, persisted in his imagination. 
During the war he had seen planes firing rockets at 
submarines. Why could not a helicopter do the same 
to whales but with all the added advantage of being able 
to hover at point blank range? The whale could be 
killed quickly. No need for a harpoon line to stop it 
from going down. Carbon dioxide released by the 
explosion could inflate the whale and prevent it from 
sinking. It might be used, not for the purpose of killing 
more whales — the Commission would see to that — but to 
cut the costs of an expedition if the price of whale oil 
dropped. A half-dozen helicopters housed in hangars on 
a factory ship would probably be much cheaper to man, 
equip and operate than a dozen catchers and yet be able 


to kill just as many whales, despite the limitations of the 

Carl turned to the burly mate. 'Berndt,' he said, 'those 
helicopters — suppose the companies ever decided to use 
them instead of catchers?' 

Berndt grunted. 'Don't worry, Carl, they never will. 
They tried electrocuting whales once — said it was more 
humane or something — but it never came to much, did 

'No, the gunners didn't like it. But you've got to face 
facts, Berndt. We lose a lot of whales through broken 
harpoon lines and the one catcher they tried it on lost 
almost none.' 

'If it was such a good idea then why didn't it take on?' 
grunted the mate. 

'Because, Berndt, our folk do not like changes,' replied 

'But people are always trying new things. Look at the 
scheme the British tried in Africa — getting margarine 
from ground nuts so as to give the whales a rest. Some 
said that that would threaten our livelihood but it didn't, 
because it failed.' 

'It was a brave effort though, Berndt. The British 
know that the whales in the Antarctic must be given a rest 
sometime and that the world must discover other ways 
of producing edible fats. We gunners all go for the biggest 
whales ; that is only natural, but if you look at the statistics 
you'll see that it causes the average lengths to fall every 
year. It is that and not so much the actual numbers that 
the governments worry over because they know that the 
whales cannot reproduce themselves below certain lengths. 
Make no mistake, Berndt. If the world of commerce can 
find better ways of getting oil it will use them and think 
afterwards about the whalemen of the Westfold.' 

'Huh!' grunted Berndt. 'You've been reading too 
many Whaling Gazettes, Carl.' 


Carl turned away and his blue eyes were on the far 
horizon. Changes will come, he thought, and unless we 
move with the times the profession that we grasp so tightly 
and jealously may slip like quicksilver through our fingers. 
After all, it happened to the Basques, the English, the 
Dutch and the New Englanders in earlier days. 

He watched a lone albatross gliding on motionless 
wings. Who knows, he concluded, my son Hans may 
have to learn to fly if he is to be a whale hunter like his 





Li8K/' r.Y 

W. !;. 0. I.