William H. Macy  Source  Whalesite

Leaves from the Arethusa's Log.
No. 10

W. H. Macy

Flag of our Union.
Vol. 23, No. 34 (Aug 22, 1868)
p. 542.

Leaves from the Arethusa's Log.

No. 10.

WHALING NEAR THE FALKLANDS. — DEATH OF MR. JOHNSON.

      No more whales were seen till the Arethusa had passed the latitude of 48 degrees south, and was nearly up with the Falklands. The wind was fresh from south-west, and the ship close-hauled on the south-south-east tack, diving into a head sea under whole topsails, making wet weather of it; while the aspect of the heavens was threatening, and indicated more wind before night. Mr. Dunham, who went to the masthead in the forenoon, reported a large "breach" on the weather quarter five miles distant. The ship stood on for a short time, and then going about, headed up nearly in the direction where the breach was seen. In an hour after tacking, spouts were seen, and were soon made out beyond question to be those of three large sperm whales going slowly to leeward. When they went down again they were not more than two miles from us; but it was by this time high noon, and the wind and sea had increased, so that the ship was brought down to double-reefed topsails. The chances were not at all favorable for chasing whales with much prospect of success. But Captain Upton and his officers were not to be daunted by trifles, with sperm whales in sight; and their doctrine was, that as long as a boat could live she could tackle a whale and kill him. So everything was cleared for action, and after standing on till he judged the ship near enough, the captain ordered the maintopsail hauled aback, and the boats hoisted and swung. This was hardly accomplished when the whales broke water within half a dozen ship's lengths of the lee-beam.

      "Lower away!" was the word, and down went all three boats, the starboard boat having the advantage in this case from being on the lee quarter, and getting clear of the ship in advance of the rest.

      The whales were as yet apparently undisturbed, and the chance of striking what would be considered a sure one, as they would not readily take the alarm in such weather. There was no need of spreading a sail to a breeze like this; it was only necessary to head the boat off before the wind and sea, and giving her a slight impetus with the paddle-strokes, to drive quietly down upon the prey.

      The two mates, as they shoved astern of the ship, saw the exact state of things, and merely suffered their boats to run to leeward, without effort, so as to be at hand to support the captain if he should strike, without interfering with his chance by competition. Seated at the bow thwart next the boatsteerer, I had a fair view of the advance to the attack, and regarded the progress of the starboard boat with eager interest, not unmixed with anxiety, as I thought of the difficulty and danger of grappling with these monsters in such weather. Mr. Johnson stood up in the head of his boat grasping the bight of the warp in his left hand, the right resting on his "iron poles," while the other four continued dipping their paddles to add to the speed of the lively boat, which was sliding down to leeward, as it were, at a rate that promised soon to place her within striking distance. Already she was within a ship's length of the right hand one, for which the captain was steering, when the off whale of the three took the alarm, as was evinced by his elevating his head rather more than usual, and then cutting out a corner of his flukes with that peculiar movement known to whalemen as indicative of an intention to leave soon. The panic spread to the others instantly, by that sort of magnetic communication which whales seem to employ even when miles apart. A sudden and convulsive movement was observed in all three of them at the same instant. It was evident that like Macbeth's guests, they would "stand not upon the order of their going." The left-hand whale, who had first perceived the danger, was gone like a flash, his tail skimming out just above the surface; his next neighbor shot ahead half his length with a sudden effort, and threw his flukes high in air; the third, who had just blown off his spout, attempted the same manœuvre, but it was too late; the boat was shooting too quick for him. As he threw up his body, the head of the boat was just abreast of his "small," rushing down the declivity of a wave.

      "Dart!" cried Captain Upton, in a voice that rose high above the roaring of the wind and sea; "dart, and try him!"

      Quick as thought the flashing iron sped on its mission from the long, sinewy arms of the mulatto, and its sudden stoppage, and the quiver of the pole in the "suds" as his keen eye noted it, told him it had found its mark. Already the second one was drawn back for a dart; Father Grafton had roared, "Spring ahead! He's fast!" when the air was darkened by the ponderous tail of the infuriated monster, which seemed to hang poised for an instant — a cry of "Stern! stern hard!!" — a crash — and the starboard boat was buried in a cloud of foam. "Spring, men! he stove!" shouted the mate, and with the heave of the next sea the wreck seemed to struggle up through the boiling vortex, the crew striking out for their lives to meet the approaching boats. No whale was to be seen; but what struck a chill to every heart, only five heads could be counted!

      "Spring, men, do! they're all swimming for it! Peak your oar, Bunker, and stand by to lend them a hand! Don't look for the whale now! Two — three — four — five — O God! where's Mr. Johnson?"

      The oath must have been overlooked by the recording angel. The third mate had sunk to rise no more till the great day of reckoning. The whole head of the boat, as far as the bow-thwart, was crushed to splinters by the fearful blow; and the bowman seemed to have escaped by a miracle. The half-drowned men were pulled into the other two boats; and the line was found to be cut, but no one seemed clearly to know how, when, or by whom. Anxious eyes peered round, hoping against hope, to see the head of the lost man; but a moment's reflection served to convince Captain Upton of the impossibility of his having escaped. He was silent for a short space after he stood by the side of his mate; then pointing significantly at the crushed fragments of the boat's bow, "He must have been killed instantly, Mr. Grafton," he said, and a tear started from the eye of the strong man, and was lost among the briny drops that were streaming from every thread of his clothing.

      Father Grafton answered only by a nod of assent, showing his full conviction of the worst. A moment and the captain was himself again! he had paid the tribute of a full heart, and was once more the whaling captain, alive to the emergency of the moment.

      "Pull ahead, and pick up the wreck! We'll save all the craft we can, Mr. Dunham, but never mind the boat. We must let her go, and bear a hand aboard — it's breezing on all the time, and I expect we shall have it harder to-night. Don't stop for small matters; save the oars and line — boat's sail if you can. Set your waif, Mr. Grafton, for the ship — never mind, he's coming; I see her falling off now. Lay off a little from the wreck, boys; don't, for Heaven's sake, stave another boat now. There, that'll do; stand by to pull ahead. What's 'Cooper' running so far for? I wonder if he'll think to come to on the starboard tack, so as to hoist these boats to leeward. Yes! all right! there he braces up his mizzen topsail! Pull ahead, and let's get snug before night!"

      The Arethusa came flying up to the wind with her topsails run down on the caps, and the jib at the boom-end slatting at a furious rate, as the overloaded boats pulled alongside under her lee.

      "Keep your tackles up clear till we give the word! Look out on deck for some of this lumber! Bear a hand — what are you all staring at?" for the ship-keepers seemed to be paralyzed with dread, at not seeing the third mate in either of the boats.

      "Light out now, all but two to hook on! Here, come to the falls, everybody, and stand by to run the boat up. Now's your time, Mr. Grafton — hook on — all ready, Bunker? Fore and aft! Quick, boys, and take her out of water!"

      The boats were fortunately secured in the cranes, without accident. The wind was piping on to a gale and a thick, driving mist, bringing an icy sensation with it from the southward, gave evidence that we were approaching the Cape Horn latitudes.

      "Clew the fore and mizzentopsails right up, Mr, Grafton! Send some hands out to stow the jib — never mind hauling down the foretack — we shall have to reef the foresail soon. Make all snug as fast as you can, and have some small tackles ready for securing the lee-boats to-night." And the "old man" went below to find some dry clothing, and to indulge his feelings now that he had leisure to reflect upon the loss of Mr. Johnson.

      The Arethusa was soon careening to the blast under her close-reefed maintopsail and staysails, the whole heavens shrouded in gloom, and, as the shades of night drew down upon the wild scene, each one seemed to realize that we had cause of congratulation in the fact of our timely arrival on board, and shuddered to think what might have been our fate, if exposed an hour or two longer in open boats, had the whale run us some distance from the ship before the thick weather shut down hiding her from view. It is at such times that the seaman feels his own nothingness, and realizes his dependence on the mercy of Heaven. The whaleman, in particular, has frequent cause to feel how narrowly he has escaped such dangers. Even other mariners have little idea of the risks encountered by this class of men; for whalemen form the only branch of the profession who may be truly said to make their home on the ocean; to "go down to the sea in ships," while others skim across it; and in a literal sense, to "do business on the great waters."

      Little was said among the officers about the dreadful casualty which had so suddenly removed one of their number, but many a thrilling story went round the forecastle that night from the old hands, the more impressive from the circumstance of the speakers lying in their berths, with the darkness relieved by only one dimly-burning lamp, swaying and flickering with the motion of the ship in the gale — of men who had met violent deaths in various ways, and of hairbreadth escapes of others, in most of which latter cases, the narrator was, of course, himself the hero of the adventure.

      Morning broke upon the stout ship still lying to under short canvas, the wind howling through the rigging, the decks drenched with spray, and everything cold and cheerless. The gale, however, now came in fitful gusts, with lulls between; in evidence that it had spent its force, and was breaking up. The morning watch were collected aft on the lee side of the deck, while Father Grafton, wrapped in pilotcloth, stood holding on by the weather quarter rail, and gazing at the sky to windward, observing the signs of better weather. As he turned and threw his glance casually off to leeward, a sudden lighting up of his countenance told that something had arrested his attention. He changed his position for a better view, and, in a moment more, spoke:

      "There it is again. Blo-o-ows! Sperm whale — there's white water! wounded whale, too — I know by the way he spouts. That must be the whale we struck yesterday — Blo-o-ows! Steward! tell Captain Upton there's a sperm whale off the lee-beam!"

      It was unnecessary to tell him, for he was just stepping out of the cabin at the moment.

      "Where away, Mr. Grafton?" Then, as his quick eye caught the smoke of the spout blowing off, "Ah! yes! I see him — there's white water. Yes, that's the whale that killed Mr. Johnson. O, if we only had good weather to pay him off for it!"

      Then looking to windward, "How is the weather, anyhow? Can't we go down and have a dig at him? No, no, it's no use to put boats down into, this sea. By thunder! how he lies there, aggravating us! badly hurt, too; he can't go much. Got both irons in him, I expect — I couldn't tell about the second iron. Can't we keep the run of him till the weather moderates?"

      "I think we can," said the mate, "if he don't work to windward — and I don't think he will. He must have gone just about the drift of the ship through the night. We might kill him from the ship, but then we couldn't secure him afterwards, and we should drift to leeward of him."

      "I'd like to have the killing of him!" said the captain, eagerly. "I want a little revenge on that whale, and I would rather kill him than any other one in the ocean." Another impatient look to windward, "No, no, we can't use the boats. The-e-ere's white water again! We'll try him with the ship anyhow. Get some lances ready, and we'll run down there and have a fling at him — if we lose a lance or two it's no great matter — we'll have revenge at any rate. It's moderating every minute, eh, Mr. Grafton?"

      "Yes, sir; and there's the sun trying to break through the clouds yonder. I think we shall have good weather in an hour or two."

      "Yes, but it will take some time for the sea to go down. Get your lances ready! Here, Blacksmith, bend the end of that line to the lance warp. We mustn't check too short, Mr. Grafton, or we'll lose all our lances."

      The whale was not more than a quarter of a mile off, bearing a little abaft the beam, or nearly dead to leeward, and appeared to be too badly hurt to go down. All hands were on deck to assist in the sport, and lances were hastily prepared at various points along the starboard side of the ship.

      "Hard up your helm, there!" shouted the captain. "Run down the mizzen-staysail, and shiver in the mainyard! Here, Jeff, I want you at the wheel, and mind the word, quick. See the whale now, Mr. Dunham? Yes, there he is — let her go off more yet. Well, the mainyard! Belay that — haul taut the lee-braces. Stead-y! meet her quick, Jeff — stand by your lances now." And Captain Upton ran to his place by the starboard fore-swifter, and Mr. Grafton into the fore-chains abaft him, while the second mate stood ready in the waist, and the boatsteerers, armed with similar weapons, found eligible stations still further in reserve.

      The ship was now booming off under good headway, rolling heavily in the trough of the sea. "Starboard a little, Jeff — so, steady! meet her, quick, meet her. Port a little — so, steady as you go now!" said the eager and excited captain, coursing the ship so as to shave just clear of the whale, who lay "sogging" up and down in his element, and occasionally blowing, the spout having a faint and broken appearance as if forced from him by a painful effort.

      As we drew near, the iron could be distinctly seen in his back, the pole hanging down by his side, and soon as he raised his flukes to thrash the sea in his agony, the other one was discovered in his "small." The last effort of a dying man had driven it home!

      "Now, then, stand by, all of you," said the captain, in a suppressed voice. "We shall have a good chance, but it's awkward darting, if we don't catch the roll of the ship right. If I miss him, Mr. Grafton, don't you!"

      At the moment the whale was abreast the martingale, he moved his hand to port the helm, and stand by the braces.

      "Now's our time!" as the next roll of the ship brought her fore-channels nearly into the water just at the right moment, and both lances entered the whale's body at the same instant, driven to the socket.

      "Hard a port! Brace up the mainyard! Bear a hand, and let her come to the wind!"

      The whale had buried himself beneath the surface, on receiving the deadly steel. The captain's lance drew out, but Mr. Grafton's warp was snapped like a thread, and the lance was left in his body. The reserves had no chance to grease their weapons.

      "Run up that mizzen-staysail!" shouted the "old man," as the ship was brought rapidly to the wind, shipping a considerable body of water forward, which luckily did no damage.

      "Where's the whale? I see the bloody water here on the quarter. Up aloft, two or three of ye, and keep a sharp eye out for him!"

      The order was superfluous, for half a dozen were already in the rigging at different points.

      "Loose the foresail, Mr. Grafton, fore and mizzentopsails, too. We mustn't drift off any more — it's going to moderate; and we may be able to keep the run of him. There he blo-o-ows! right astern! blood thick as tar!" roared Captain Upton, wild with excitement, as the immense spermaceti rose in the ship's wake, and the blood-red cloud blown off to leeward from his spiracle, told that the death of Mr. Johnson was avenged.

      The weather had materially improved by the time the topsails were sheeted home and set. Vigilant eyes at the masthead observed the whale's movement, and in time the ship wore round and stood along near him in time to see him go in his dying "flurry" within a short distance of his relentless enemies. The sea would not admit of a boat being lowered to take possession; but he was kept in sight by watching the "slick," and manœuvring on short tacks all the forenoon.

      After dinner, the gale having abated to a whole topsail breeze, and the sea gone down so that a boat with a picked crew and careful management might venture to cut a hole, the larboard boat was lowered, and after considerable difficulty he was hauled alongside and fluked. The cutting gear was got up, and the work driven with all possible expedition, for moderate weather was not to be depended upon for any length of time in these latitudes. Still, it was three o'clock by the time we got fairly hooked on, and what with surging and parting, and tearing out hooks, little progress was made, and at dark we "lashed down," and knocked off our arduous duty with one blanket piece in the blubber-room, the whale's body riding by the large fluke.chain, and the head cut off and secured alongside by the small chain and two parts of a large new hawser. The wind was hauling to the westward, and blowing on another gale. All sail was taken in, and the watches set; darkness shut down its dread pall around, and the howling of the night storm was rendered more dismal by the screams of thousands of ravenous albatrosses sitting in the "slick" to windward of the ship, and the clanking and surging of the fluke-chain as it quivered under the terrific strain. At midnight the small chain attached to the head parted, but by veering away a longer scope on the ropes the ponderous mass seemed to ride easier than before. The ropes held bravely till four o'clock, when weakened by long-continued stretch, strain and chafe, they gave way; and the valuable head, containing at least forty barrels of sperm, went dancing off upon a mountain wave, and could be seen from time to time flashing up through the darkness, till it was lost to view in the gloom to windward.

      The fluke-chain still hung, but the gale and sea increasing every moment, the strain at last became too powerful even for its great strength, and it snapped about daylight with the report of a gun. The wind had hauled round gradually by north-west, and was now nearly at north, and fair for the course on which we were bound. Captain Upton was on deck when the chain parted, and looked with longing eyes off the weather quarter at the lost prize till it could be seen no longer; then, satisfied no more could be done to save it, he ordered the helm up, and, setting the foresail and close-reefed fore and maintopsails, the proud ship once more bounded before the favorable gale, laying her course inside of the Falklands for Cape Horn.

Source:

W. H. Macy.
"Leaves from the Arethusa's Log - No. 10."
      Flag of Our Union.
Vol. 23, No. 34 (Aug 22, 1868)
p. 542.

William H. Macy  Source  Whalesite