Part 4

The “narwhal,” or nostril whale, has a horn five to ten feet long protruding forward from its jaw. This species is also spoken of as the “Unicorn.” Opinions differ as to the use of this horn; some think it is used as a rake to turn over its food at the bottom of the sea, others think it is employed as an ice-piercer, but the author of “Moby Dick” suggests that it would make an exceedingly good folder for it to use in reading pamphlets. In ancient times this narwhal’s tusk was used to detect poison in food and wine, the idea being prevalent that the tusk would be discolored if it came in contact with any poisonous substance. It is difficult in the present day to appreciate the wholesale fear of poison which existed up to quite modern times. This fear was so general and pressing that no one of any position dared to eat and drink without a previous assurance that what was set before him did not contain some poison. Some authorities vouch for the fact that the tusk was also used as salts for fainting women.

The chief products of the fishery are sperm and whale oil, whalebone, and ambergris. Spermaceti, meaning a foot of “sperm oil,” was the most valuable and was found only in the sperm whale. This oil was formerly used chiefly in the manufacture of sperm candles, and at one time there were eight factories for the manufacture of these candles in New England, Nantucket alone turning out three hundred and eighty tons annually before the war. In the olden times this oil was considered a sure cure for almost any kind of disease and was worth its weight in silver. Shakespeare makes reference to it in these words—“The sovereign’st thing on earth was ’parmaceti for an inward bruise.” At present it is used chiefly in making refined oils for lubricating.

Whale oil was procured from all the other varieties of whales, and was formerly used as an illuminant in the old “whale oil” lamps; it is used now to a certain extent in the tanning of leather and in the manufacture of soaps, but chiefly in making heavy lubricating oils.

Whalebone has been the most important product of the whale fishery for a number of years, and in fact whaling would undoubtedly have died out altogether had it not been for the discovery of its use in making women’s stays. Many a whaleman has lost his life in the endeavor to improve the female figure. It is a curious fact that fifty years or more ago this product was always thrown away as worthless. The value has gone down in the past few years on account of the invention of steel stays, which take the place of whalebone.

The high and low prices of these three commodities are of interest. Sperm oil was $2.55 per gallon in 1866, and is 46 cents now. Whale oil was $1.45 per gallon in 1865, and is 26 cents now. Whalebone was $5.80 per pound in 1904, 8 cents in 1809, and is $1.75 now.

Ambergris, the rarest and most valuable of all the products, is a secretion from the intestines of the sperm whale and results from a disease. It is a very rare article and is worth almost its weight in gold, selling usually at $300 a pound. Its chief use is in the preparation of fine perfumeries. It is believed that the largest amount taken by one ship was brought back by the “Watchman” of Nantucket, which vessel found eight hundred pounds in 1858. Small amounts were sold every year in New Bedford even up to the year 1913. The Turks used it in cooking and also carried it to Mecca for the same purpose that frankincense is carried to St. Peter’s in Rome. Some wine merchants used to drop a little into their wine as a spice, and it was said that the Moors used it in green tea as a flavoring to present to their guests.

The whale is used for food chiefly by the Japanese and Esquimaux, and a famous doctor belonging to the latter tribe some years ago recommended the blubber for infants. In fact, the whale would perhaps be considered a good dish were there not so much of him. Whale-meat is said by some to resemble boarding-house steak. In France, during the Middle Ages, the tongue was considered a great delicacy, and by some epicures the brains, mixed with flour, were much sought after.

The largest income received by the whalers of America in any one year was in 1854, when they netted $10,802,594.20, although the record size of the fleet was attained eight years before. The five years from 1853 to 1857 inclusive yielded a return of $51,063,659.59, the catch of each year selling for fifty per cent. of the total value of the whaling fleet. The total value of the cargoes from 1804 to 1876 was $331,947,480.51.

Captain W. T. Walker, of New Bedford, is called the counting-house hero of the American Whale Fishery. He purchased in 1848 an old whaleship called the “Envoy” that was about to be broken up, and when ready for sea this ship stood the owner $8,000. He could get no insurance; nevertheless he “took a chance,” and after a three years’ voyage he returned and had netted for himself the extraordinary sum of $138,450, or 1,630 per cent. The largest profit, however, was made by the “Pioneer” of New London, in 1865, the value of her cargo being $151,060. For a short voyage Frederick Fish, who has been mentioned before, holds the record for his ship the “Montreal,” which brought back a cargo worth over $36,000 after a voyage occupying only two months and fifteen days.

There were many unprofitable voyages, and many were the ships that came home with barrels filled with salt water instead of oil for ballast. Some vessels, as whalemen say, didn’t have enough oil to grease their irons.

METHODS OF CAPTURE AND “TRYING OUT”

“Whales has feelin’s as well as anybody. They don’t like to be stuck in the gizzards an’ hauled alongside, an’ cut in, an’ tried out in those here boilers no more’n I do!”

_Barzy Macks’s Biology._

When the lookout at the masthead shouts out “Thar she blows,” or “There she whitewaters,” the whaleboats are gotten out and rowed towards the whale, while signals from the ship show from time to time the whereabouts of the whales and directions for their pursuit. The first man to “raise oil”—an expression which means the first to see a whale—usually received a plug of tobacco or some other prize, and this made the lookouts more keen.

In “Moby Dick” Melville says that the crew pulls to the refrain “A Dead Whale or a Stove Boat,” which became such well-known by-words among whalemen that when Mr. W. W. Crapo last year presented to New Bedford “The Whaleman” statue, they were inscribed upon it. When rowing in a rough sea the captain cautioned the men to trim the boat and not to “shift their tobacco.”

As they approach the whale the bow oarsman, who is the harpooner, stands up at a signal from the captain of the boat, who is steering, and yells out to “give it to him.” The next order is probably to “stern all” in order to avoid the whale. The boat is probably now fast, and either the whale will sound and run out the line at a terrific rate or else he may race away dragging the boat after him, which whalemen call “A Nantucket Sleigh-Ride.” This kind of sleigh-ride was often at railroad speed and was perhaps one of the most exhilarating and exciting experiences in the line of sport. An empty boat would certainly capsize, but a whaleboat had six trained, strong, athletic men sitting on her thwarts, whose skill enabled them to sway their bodies to the motions of the boat so that she would keep an even keel, even though her speed might plough small valleys over the huge swells and across the broad troughs of an angry Pacific, and great billows of foam piled up at her bow while the water rushed past the stern like a mad whirlpool. The greatest care must be taken not to allow the line to get snarled up or to let a turn catch an arm or leg, for it would result in almost immediate death to the person thus entangled. Conan Doyle, who once took a trip on a whaler, tells of a man who was caught by the line and hauled overboard so suddenly that he was hardly seen to disappear. One of the men in the boat grabbed a knife to cut the line, whereupon another seaman shouted out, “Hold your hand, the whale’ll be a good present for the widow!”

There is one case known where a man who had been hauled down by the line had the presence of mind to get out his knife and cut the rope, which allowed him to come to the surface more dead than alive; also occasionally the entangled arm or ankle would be torn off, thus freeing the man and allowing him to rise.

Two harpoons were thrown if possible, and then it was customary for the harpooner to exchange places with the boat-steerer, who got ready his lance, which he plunged in and hauled out again until the whale went into his “flurry” and rolled over dead, or “fin out” as it was called. Often the whale would get frightened or “gallied,” or would jump in the air or “breach,” and therefore great care was taken to avoid his attacks. When the whale “breaches” the tail becomes very conspicuous, and one old salt used to say that an additional tail appeared after every glass of grog.

Scoresby speaks of a whale which drew out from the different boats ten thousand four hundred and forty yards, or nearly six miles, of rope. It was necessary when the line of one boat was nearly exhausted to bend on the end to a new rope in another boat and so on, and of course often miles of rope and many harpoons would be lost if the whale escaped. When the line was drawn out rapidly it was necessary to pour water over the snub post to keep the rope from burning.

There have been races almost as exciting as a Harvard-Yale race when the boats of different nations have been dashing for a whale, which is prized at between three thousand and four thousand dollars. Many years ago an English, a French, a Dutch, and an American ship lay becalmed in the Pacific, when suddenly a whale was “raised.” All four ships lowered and raced across the waters, with the American in the rear. In a few minutes the Yankee passed the Dutchman, who yelled “donner und blitzen!” The American captain encouraged his men by shouting “Thar she blows, she’s an eighty-barreler, break the oars, lads!” and soon the French were left astern with curses of “Le diable.” The Englishmen were still ahead; the American boat-steerer now began to help the stroke oarsman by pushing his oar, and their boat crept up slowly upon their only rivals. The English boat-steerer also grabbed his stroke’s oar, but it snapped off at the rowlock, and the Americans overtook them and captured the whale. Another international race took place in Delagoa Bay, which has become a classic among American whalemen. Again an English and a Yankee whaleboat were chasing a whale, and, in some manner, the former was able to cut in between the whale and the Americans, and as the English harpooner was reaching for his iron, the American harpooner “pitch-poled” his harpoon over the English boat, and his iron made fast.

After a capture came the long, hard row back to the ship, then the tedious process of “cutting in” and “trying out.” First of all the head, or “case,” was cut off and tied astern while the strips of blubber were cut from the body and hauled on board, as next shown, by means of huge tackles from the mast. Blubber averages in thickness from twelve to eighteen inches, and if cut four and one-half inches thick would carpet a room sixty-six feet long by twenty-seven wide. Then the head was either bailed out, if it were a sperm whale, or else the whalebone was taken in, if it were a right whale. The strips or “blanket pieces” were then minced, and after boiling, the oil was cooled and stored away in barrels below deck. The “try-works” consisted of iron pots set in brick furnaces, and there were pans of water underneath to prevent the decks from burning. This process of boiling the oil was most irksome and disagreeable as the men were soaked in oil from head to foot, and the smell of the burning fluid was so frightful that it has often been alluded to as Hell on a large scale, and was usually called a “squantum,” which is the Nantucket word for a picnic; nevertheless, old whalers delighted in it.

It is a superstition among some whalemen that a ship which for once has a sperm whale’s head on her starboard quarter, and a right whale’s on her port side, will never afterwards capsize.

THE PERILS OF WHALING

Whalemen not only had to undergo the perils of the sea, but in addition ran the danger of being killed by the whale and of being attacked by savages at the ports where it was often necessary to land for food and water. Also in cases of accident the whaleship was usually off the regular cruise followed by the merchantmen and therefore less likely to be assisted by other vessels. Furthermore, the long voyages, poor food, and the many dangers of whaling induced many mutinies.

The worst massacre occurred on the “Awashonks,” of Falmouth, in 1835, near the Marshall Islands. The natives came on board in large numbers and seemed most friendly, when, on a given signal, they killed the captain and many of the crew. Finally the seamen laid a charge of dynamite under a hatchway where the savages were sitting, and blew most of them to pieces, the crew being then enabled to recapture the vessel. A few years later, when the “Sharon” of Fairhaven was cruising not far from Ascension Island, the crew lowered for a whale, and upon returning to the ship it was discovered that three of the “Kanaka” crew, recently engaged, had taken charge of the ship and had killed the captain. The first mate in the whaleboat did not dare attack, but the third mate, Benjamin Clough, who was only nineteen years old, swam to the ship in the darkness, climbed up the rudder, shot two of the mutineers, and had a hand-to-hand encounter with the third, who died soon afterwards. The first mate then returned on board. Clough was made captain of a ship immediately upon his return to Fairhaven. Still another mutiny took place on the ship “Junior” which sailed from New Bedford in 1857, most of the officers being killed. Plummer, the ringleader, wrote a story of the mutiny in the log book, which is now in the possession of the New Bedford Library, and the account was signed by the five mutineers in order to clear the rest of the men on board. The five murderers on sighting land lowered two whaleboats with all the plunder they could find and rowed ashore. The mutineers were subsequently captured and were brought in cages to Boston, where they were defended by Benjamin F. Butler. Davis, the author of “Nimrod of the Sea,” mentions a quarrel on board the “Chelsea,” which ended by the men all signing a “round robin” to return to duty, and in order that no name should head the list the signatures were set down in a circle, like the spokes of a wheel, from which possibly comes the word “ringleader.”

The most fearful mutiny happened on the “Globe” of Nantucket, in 1822. A boat-steerer called Comstock laid a plot which resulted in the death of all the officers of the ship, and those who were not killed outright were thrown overboard. Comstock then took charge of the ship, and stated that if any man disobeyed him, he would be put to death by being boiled in the “try-pots.” The ringleader was finally killed by some of the crew, and the ship brought into port.

Captain Warrens, of the whaler “Greenland,” in 1775, told a most thrilling narrative, which shows the perils of Arctic whaling, and is the most weird and grewsome of all whaling yarns. While becalmed one day he sighted a vessel with rigging dismantled, and he immediately lowered and rowed over to her. Upon boarding the ship he found seated at the cabin table the corpse of a man. He held a pen in his hand, and the log book was on the table in front of him. The last entry was “Nov. 14, 1762. We have now been enclosed in the ice seventeen days. The fire went out yesterday and our master has been trying ever since to kindle it again without success. His wife died this morning. There is no relief.” Other corpses were found in the cabin and a number of sailors in the forward part of the ship. The vessel had been frozen in the ice for thirteen years!

There are many exciting accounts of accidents to whaleboats, and a few are worth mentioning. Captain Sparks, of the “Edward Lee” of Provincetown, in 1881, chased a whale and finally lost him. He and his crew endeavored to find his ship, but for some reason were unable to do so. The nearest land was one thousand miles away, and with no food or water the prospect was not very encouraging. For six days they sailed on, when by good fortune they killed a whale, and finally were picked up and brought to land.

Another incident shows how a whale will sometimes fight. Captain Morse, of the “Hector” of New Bedford, had his boat attacked by a whale, which grabbed the bow in its mouth, shaking the crew and implements in all directions. The mate came to the rescue, and the whale at once started to chase his boat, snapping its jaws less than a foot behind the stern. The crew rowed desperately and succeeded in dodging its attacks, until finally the animal turned over to get more air, and a well-driven lance luckily killed it. The harpoons of the “Barclay” were found in it, and it was learned that this same whale had killed the “Barclay’s” captain only three days before. Another incident shows the fierceness of the attack of a fighting whale. The “Osceola 3rd,” of New Bedford, shot thirty-one bombs into a whale before it was killed.

Captain Davis, in “Nimrod of the Sea,” mentions an occurrence in which a whale attacked one of the men who had been hauled from the whaleboat. Then ensued a fight, and every time the monster swam for him he was obliged to dive. The mate rushed into the encounter with his boat and finally succeeded in killing the whale. Another captain described how the crew of his whaleboat was obliged to cling all night on the body of a dead whale until help came at daybreak. It happened to be Christmas evening, and the famished men obtained their Christmas dinner by digging from the back of the dead animal enough meat to satisfy their hunger. If a whaleboat were upset, and it was seen that the crew had something to hold on to in order to prevent going under, it was often a long time before the other boats rendered assistance, it being a truism among whalemen that whales were of much higher commercial value than men.

Captain Hosmer, of the bark “Janet” of Westport (near New Bedford), met with a horrible experience off the coast of Peru in 1849. He had just secured a whale, and in towing it back to his ship his boat was capsized. He immediately displayed distress signals, and the “Janet” sailed towards the men who clung to the small boat, when suddenly, to his amazement and horror, the ship swung off and headed in another direction. They could see her sailing about searching for them, but were unable to attract her attention, and finally, as the distance between them increased, they set sail towards the nearest land, after bailing out their boat with difficulty, and having lost one man by drowning. The nearest coast was over one thousand miles away, and they had not a drop of water or a morsel of food. At the end of seven days lots were cast to decide who should be killed in order that the rest might live. Four more of the crew died, and after twenty days the two survivors landed on an island and were later picked up by the “Leonidas” of New Bedford.

There are three cases known to history of a whale sinking a ship. The “Essex,” of Nantucket, was attacked by a huge whale in 1819, and twice did the animal make a rush at the ship, which became submerged in a few minutes. Owen Chase, the first mate, wrote an account of the accident and subsequent sufferings of the crew. Three whaleboats set sail for the Marquesas Islands. One boat was never heard from; another was picked up by an English brig with only three of the crew alive; and the third with only two survivors, having sailed over twenty-five hundred miles, was picked up by a Nantucket vessel, _three months_ after the accident. Captain Pollard, who was in command of the “Essex” at this time, had previously been one of the crew on Fulton’s “Claremont” on his first trip up the Hudson. He survived the frightful experience, but nothing could induce him ever to refer to it. He finally abandoned the sea and became a police officer in Nantucket.

The “Ann Alexander” of New Bedford, which is shown in the next cut, met a similar fate in 1850, and the ship sank so quickly that only one day’s supplies were saved. With the horror of the “Essex” staring them in the face the crew set sail in the small boats, and with great good fortune in two days sighted the “Nantucket” and were taken on board. Five months after this incident the “Rebecca Sims,” of New Bedford, killed a whale, and to the great surprise of the crew, the irons of the “Ann Alexander” were discovered in its body, and there were also several pieces of the ship’s timber imbedded in its head.

The latest of the three accidents happened to the bark “Kathleen” in the Atlantic Ocean in 1902, and the picture shows her about to sink after having been rammed by a whale. The three flags at the mastheads are signals to the three boats to return at once, but as each one was fast to a whale, they were loath to obey the signals. The whale showing its “flukes” at the right of the picture is the one that stove the hole in the vessel. The “Kathleen” also had a whale alongside, making four just captured. The accident meant a loss, not counting the vessel and oil on board, of ten to twelve thousand dollars. Captain Jenkins, who was in command, lowered with Mrs. Jenkins, a parrot, and nineteen of the crew, and with difficulty rowed to the other boats, which took in their share of the men from the captain’s over-crowded one. Captain Jenkins declares that the parrot, when removed from its home on the “Kathleen,” swore that “he would be damned if he’d ever go to sea again!” Three boat loads were discovered by a Glasgow ship, but the fourth had to sail over one thousand miles to the Barbadoes. Captain Jenkins is to-day living in South Dartmouth. He has written a small volume on the loss of his ship and is such a well-known whaleman that he was one of those who occupied the platform at the time of the unveiling of “The Whaleman” statue.

THE “CATALPA” EXPEDITION

While not primarily a whaling voyage, the “Catalpa” Expedition should be outlined in any account of whaling adventures.