CHAPTER XIV
AMONG RIGHT WHALES
We left our hero Rube suffering in body but triumphant in soul, and also in perfect ignorance of the astounding change his behaviour was bringing about in all hands. I have always maintained that a Christian ship presents as near an approach to what most of us agree Heaven must be like as we can make on this side of the gate thereof. For look at the position! The grosser forms of temptation are entirely absent, yet there is none of the selfish side of monasticism present. Men talk and laugh and work with their fellows amid the most glorious of all earthly surroundings—the pure, wide, bright ocean. There is no monotony, since every day brings diversified duties, and in hours of rest not needed for sleep there is an ever-changing panorama of glory present to the newly awakened eyes, drawing ever-deepening thankfulness from the regenerated heart. The thousand-and-one miseries and pettinesses that distract men ashore are absent. From the little world evil has departed—almost the knowledge of it, since there is no daily paper recording the never-ending succession of crimes.
Yes, it is an ideal state of existence, a sort of Happy Valley in the midst of the ocean, whence the trail of the serpent has been removed, and where the community bask, unshadowed by sin, in the sunshine of God. Of course, it will be cynically remarked that this is a picture of perfection, unattainable, impossible. Well, it is nearly, but not quite. I have experiencedsomething very near it, and I beg to submit that it was so idyllic that it could not be made a subject for cynical sarcasm, even by the editor of theFreethinker, if he only saw it in operation. It might be called right fruit of wrong belief; but I do not love paradoxes. I prefer to believe that men do not gather grapes of thorns or figs of thistles.
But I am doing an injustice to Reuben and his shipmates by interpolating my own meditations in their story. When the work of realising the spoil of their first whale had been finished, all hands felt that they had now served their apprenticeship—were now fully equipped for their work on board, whatever it might be. And in their watches below the men found a wondrous fund of conversational matter in the happenings of the past few days. But whenever they approached the subject of Rube’s rescue of MacManus there was a perceptible lowering of the voice, an air of solemnity upon everybody, for they all felt that here was a man who, given opportunity, would have dived into hell itself if by so doing he might haply rescue a comrade. And that a comrade by no means specially dear to him, but just one of the many. The incident brought them a truer insight into the character of Christ than millions of sermons could have done. And in saying this I in no wise undervalue sermons. ‘It hath pleased God through the foolishness of preaching to save them that believe.’ But the living example of faith’s outcome, a far-off and feeble imitation of Christ, carries us beyond the reach of argument, makes the most sceptical silent. Against it the waves of criticism beat in vain. Logic, with all its perverseness; the scornful finger-pointingat the unfaithful professors; the cavilling of the sticklers for formulated creeds—all, all are silenced or stopped; and the splendour of Christ manifest in the flesh again, though it be but in the flesh of one of His humblest servants, overwhelms us.
But it must be confessed that Captain Hampden, even in the midst of his new-found peace of soul, had occasional fits of despondency when he realised how little progress the ship was making towards a prosperous voyage. Over six months had now elapsed and only one sperm-whale had been seen. Hope buoyed him, of course, but it was often deferred, and, consequently, though he maintained a cheery demeanour towards his officers his heart was becoming very sick. Going below into his lonely little cabin he would stand as if in deep thought, gazing into vacancy and wondering in some indefinite way how it was that he was so unfortunate this voyage. For he had the reputation of being a ‘lucky’ skipper who never stayed out all his legal time, and on several occasions so great had been his success that he had found no need to go out of the Atlantic Ocean. Twice, indeed, he had spent gloriously successful seasons on ‘Coffin’s Ground,’ just a little south and west of the English Channel, finding there sperm-whale, so numerous and fat that he was inclined to wonder why it should ever be necessary to go farther afield. I could not help thinking of him last year, when, on my way to the Mediterranean in one of the crack P. and O. liners, I heard the veteran captain tell a lady at dinner that there were hardly any whales now—they had been almost exterminated. I ventured to question his dictum, and we had rather an interesting discussion. But nextmorning he and I met on deck a little after daybreak, to find the ship gliding along at her usual seventeen knots through the midst of a school of sperm-whales of the largest size, extending to the horizon on both sides, and taking us an hour to get away from them.
Nothing of that kind, however, came in the way of theXiphias. Day after day passed, lengthening into weeks, during which from the lofty eminence of the crow’s-nest nothing could be seen but sea and sky, an occasional barnacle-encrusted piece of drift-timber, a school of dolphin or bonito, a few porpoises, flying fish innumerable, and now and then a fin-back whale. But with the exception of the skipper nobody seemed to worry or find the life monotonous. Work went on with clock-like regularity, but outside of the work the men’s lives appeared to be full of interest. Interminable yarns, often inconsequential, were exchanged, and hardly a detail of their lives remained unrevealed to each other. Reuben’s return to active service was hailed with such delight that he did not appear to understand what it meant. He could not realise that the service he had rendered to his shipmate so readily could have taken such heroic proportions in the eyes of the crew. If he could have known, that great deed was, after all, but an incident: it was the lovely life, the splendid man in him which appealed to all hands, as, indeed, it will ever do where men are gathered together. Many complaints of lack of appreciation are heard from men of all classes, but the truth appears to be that with few exceptions men and women are marvellously generous in their appreciation of one another’s good deeds. There is, of course, a bogus hero-worship, an undiscriminating appreciationof work that only makes for evil, and consequently had far better be left undone, but it is only a virtue carried to excess. Let men or women do ever so little good work to-day, and, if it becomes known, their reward is almost certain to transcend their merits by far.
So Reuben, unconsciously as the sun shines or the birds sing, was made the means of sweetening the crew of theXiphias, and keeping them sweet, and at the same time, as a consequence, was teaching them—teaching them how to teach themselves from the great book open around them lessons that would be the delight of their whole remaining lives. Meanwhile the Captain grew more and more irritable, moody, despondent. He still prayed, but listlessly, as if wondering what good it could do. And all this mental agony of his was just due to the lack of common-sense appreciation of the benefits conferred by the Gospel of Christ. What should we say of a parent, who, while ever ready to confer upon his children the best of advice, the best educational advantages possible, and who gave them promises of glorious prospects in the future, should yet keep them without the common necessaries of life, food and clothing—yes, not only keep them without, but hinder them from obtaining those things for themselves? Yet this is the idea which so many, the vast majority of orthodox Christians, have of the dear Father God. But the educational process, if of any value, is slow, and Captain Hampden was learning, unwillingly it is true, but still hewaslearning. At times, though, the content which seemed to possess all hands but himself was very trying to him. He naturally felt that his crew should in some measureshare his anxiety over the non-success of the voyage so far, and resentment at their apparently callous conduct often made him miserable. Their behaviour was irreproachable. There was no slackness shown in any duty, and he knew that as far as the look-out was concerned not a fish could leap by day within a radius of four or five miles without being instantly noted by one or more of the six pairs of keen eyes at the mastheads.
But it was not until the oldXiphiashad rolled her way eastward as far as Gough Island that payable whales were sighted again. Then when within about ten miles of that huge isolated crag rising solitary, awful, out of the vast waste of the Southern Ocean, a dubious cry of ‘Blo—o—o—w’ was heard from the fore crow’s-nest. It told plainly that the utterer was not at all sure whether what he was reporting was worth while troubling after. So many false alarms had been raised, rorquals, finbacks, grampuses had so often filled them with delusive hopes, that only the unmistakable bushy spout of a sperm-whale was looked for. Since, however, no chance, slight though it might be, was neglected, the warning was given, and was presently being repeated by all the other watchers. Captain Hampden rather listlessly mounted the rigging, his binoculars slung to his neck, and reaching the mainyard, focussed them upon the, as yet, far-off whales. One glance was enough. In a tremendous voice he roared his orders to come down from aloft, prepare to leave the ship, alter the course, &c. He had discovered that a school of ‘right’ whales was in sight: a species of cetacean, almost identical with the great Greenland whale,and because of the high value of the baleen, or whalebone found in the mouth, worth almost as much in those days as the sperm-whale in spite of the poor quality of ‘right’ whale oil—perhaps, when all the circumstances were taken into consideration, more, for even the Southern right whale, although certainly more elegant in figure and swifter in movement than his Northern congener, is a meek and gentle creature, in the chase of which an accident is almost unknown.
There were about twenty individuals in the school, of average size—that is to say, each looking as if he or she might yield eighty or ninety barrels of oil and seven or eight hundredweight of bone. I mix up the genders, for, curiously enough, while the sperm-whale cow never attains to much more than one-fourth of the size of the adult cachalot, the mysticetus, or right whale has little or no disparity between the size of the sexes; what difference does occur is usually in favour of the female. With great glee the skipper ordered all five boats away, leaving the ship in charge of the four petty officers and two men only; and having told each boat-header to do his level best to get fast to a whale for himself, and not interfere with any other boat’s quarry, also to make the best possible time down to where the whales awaited them all unconscious of their proximity, the chase began. Oars and sails were both used with such good effect that although the breeze was not strong the boats fairly flew over the darkened surface of the sea. It was in the mid-morning—about 10A.M.and the sky was, as usual in those latitudes, on the edge of the roaring forties, overcast with a thick veil of grey clouds which shut out the sun aseffectually as night. And when the sun goes the sea’s aspect is cold and cheerless even on the Line. Also, there rolled up from the west mighty knolls of water, the heaving of old ocean’s breast, which when they caught a boat, hurled her forwards as if she were flying, sometimes accurately balanced upon a gliding summit as if by the fingers of a juggling genie. Viewed from an independent standpoint, the enterprise of these seafarers would have looked like some forlorn hope whereof the prize was leave to live a little longer and the penalty death. But the men in those boats had no such thought. Their teeth clenched, their nostrils expanded, their eyes ablaze with excitement, they plied their oars, scorning fatigue, overcoming the ache in their bones by sheer will-power, and without a word or sign of encouragement save those which proceeded from their own fierce desire to do better than the fellows in the next boat. It was emulation unpaid, unfostered, raised to its highest power, and achieving far more than any hope of reward could have done.
With a wild yell of delight, the mate’s boat dashed into the centre of the school, and his harpooner’s weapon flew into the body of the nearest monster like a lightning flash. The other boats, spreading themselves fan-wise, came on the scene almost immediately, and then all the wild delight of the chase, all the romantic interest of the scene was for a season in abeyance. It was too sordid. The clean sea became a slaughter-house; the soul-sickening smell of blood permeated the air. The exuding oil from the wounds made the sea quite smooth, although, of course, the swell rolled high as ever.The bewildered victims, unable to fight or flee, rolled helplessly upon the surface, exposing their vitals to the deadly thrust of the long lances, and only by an occasional flap of their mighty tails did they show any sign of resentment or desire to escape. Happily it was soon over. Within half an hour from the time of attack and without the expenditure of one hundred fathoms of line, five whales lay dead upon the solemn sea. No boat was injured, no damage of any kind had been done. And round about the victims and their slayers quietly circled the still-living monsters as if by some horrible fascination held to the spot. The skipper gave orders that none of these apparently mourning ones should be molested—not, be it noted, because of any tenderness for them, but because the average sailor, and especially the whaler, is averse to taking life wantonly. Where profit is concerned blood flows like water—slay, slay, slay, insatiable apparently of slaughter; but kill for killing’s sake as some gentlemen do in a pheasant battue—no: the rude whalemen leave such practices to their betters.
The deadly work had been so well and swiftly done that, as the mate said figuratively, ‘a good-sized handkerchief would have covered ’em all.’ Making allowance for pardonable exaggeration, the whole of the five certainly lay within half a square mile, and, therefore, two boats were judged sufficient to attend to the needful tail-boring, &c., while the other three cut adrift and sped back to the fast approaching ship, all their crews in a state of wild delight at so successful an encounter, and feeling quite fresh, for really they had hardly got their second wind. Indeed, it was a busy day for them, althoughrendered much easier than it would otherwise have been by the exceptionally favourable circumstances. Still, even then the work of getting alongside and securing by the passing of fluke-chains five gigantic bodies like those was bound to be a heavy one in any case. However, it was successfully accomplished by eight bells, noon, and with a satisfied sigh of relief every man made his way below to as good a dinner as the circumstances would admit of.
A full hour was allowed the resting men for food and smoke, and then at the first cry of ‘Turn to!’ they all scurried on deck as if eager to get to work again. But a surprise awaited them. Instead of the tedious and terribly hard work which they had seen before of cutting off and splitting lengthways the head of the sperm-whale, now the clatter of the pawls was unceasing. Once the upper jaw of the right whale, with its valuable fringe of baleen, is lifted out, the rest of the work of ‘flenching,’ or skinning the blubber off the body of the whale, is just a pleasant piece of recreation. And here let me say that, whatever may be the practice in bay-whaling when the big body is stranded, it is utterly ridiculous to suppose, as so many readers of fiction do suppose, that men with spikes in their boots get down upon the whale’s back and hew slabs of blubber off his body, which they fling on deck. Such a feat would be utterly impossible, besides being most wasteful of time as well as spoil. For the ship and the whale roll and tumble about to such an extent that standing upon that rolling mass alongside is inconceivable. No: the great ‘cutting-tackles’ come into play, and once having a wide riband of blubber started offthe whale’s neck the blubber is unwound as it were by continual hoisting, cutting at the still attached side, and the rolling round of the body.
The men all toiled as if fatigue were a word of no import, nor was a word spoken or needed to spur them on to greater efforts. They toiled until the deck, as well as the blubber-room, was packed from end to end with the mountainous masses of blubber and upper jaws with their wealth of bone. And as the last despoiled carcass was cut adrift the men raised a great shout of joy. It had been such a mighty task, so well and profitably performed, that their exultation was legitimate, and even praiseworthy. But the Captain, feeling the reaction from his great exertions, in a sense of almost overpowering lassitude, slowly dragged himself up on to the little deck aft to have a look round before going below for a meal and a short rest. And he saw a sight that drove the blood back to his heart, and left his extremities cold and numb. In the fury of labour no one had noticed the drift of the ship, nor indeed, the worsening of the weather. True, the sails had all, except the close-reefed main topsail and fore topmast staysail, been furled before beginning, so that the weather mattered little, but—the grim, towering mass of the island was close abeam to leeward. Like some vast cloud it loomed above them, while to windward, through the fast-gathering gloom of evening, came thundering on the rising, gleaming seas of the great Southern Ocean, precursors of the gale that would presently be here—nay, was already making its presence felt and heard.
For a few moments Captain Hampden stood and gazed irresolute. What could he do? With his deck so hampered by those vast greasy masses that movement fore and aft was well-nigh impossible, with night almost here, and crew worn out with the severe labour they had so cheerfully performed all day, what could he resolve upon? Like an inspiration came the thought, ‘Man’s extremity is God’s opportunity,’ and baring his head he said, ‘O God, save us, don’t let us perish like this. Let us escape, please, Father, from this awful danger.’ In a moment his relaxing muscles stiffened, he stood erect, and with a voice that reached every corner of the ship he shouted, ‘Lay aloft and loose taups’les an’t’gallants’les. Drop everything, men, and get sail on her.’ There was a momentary hush as the crew took in his words, and then cheerful cries of response came back to him as the weary fellows realised that they were being called upon for a supreme effort. Slipping, clutching, fighting their way over the greasy masses, they scrambled aloft, and soon the white gleams above told of the loosened canvas, while the waiters below tailed on to the halyards and sheets, and in all kinds of apparently impossible attitudes among the slimy obstructions dragged the reluctant sails up again. By the time all possible sail was made there was another and a deeper note mingling with the voice of the storm—the deep roar of the great Atlantic rollers beating up against those aged barriers of rock. But to their amazement the crew felt the vessel’s motion ease. She had been rolling heavily, labouring under the immense upper weight as if bewildered by it and hardly knowing what to do. And now she hardly moved at all, while overside the whole sea seemed smootheddown and ablaze with phosphorescent light. Even the veteran officers were puzzled, until the Captain suddenly bethought him of the gigantic seaweed that in fronds of hundreds of feet in length, and the thickness of a man’s body, grows upward to the surface in those waters all around the bases of the island mountains. But was there any protection there? True, the sea had become smooth, but the ship’s way had also deadened so that she no longer forged ahead, while it was impossible to ascertain in any way whether or not she was drifting broadside on over the heads of the kelp towards the stern precipices to leeward. The night was now so dark that in spite of the proximity of the mountain to leeward it was impossible to distinguish between one side and the other. Only the ear could tell by that deep moan of the sea against the rock bases.
Nothing could be done now but wait patiently to see what was the will of God concerning them. It was most obvious that if the kelp let them through, the ship must be battered to pieces against those precipices, where the sea was at least twenty fathoms deep alongside the rocks. Anchoring was out of the question—seamanship, in fact, was entirely discounted. And so, feeling all this, Captain Hampden, again raising his voice, summoned all hands aft. ‘Boys,’ he said, when they had gathered around him, ‘this looks like our last night of life. Now we’ll pray that God will let us live, but specially we’ll pray that if He doesn’t see fit to grant us any more life we may die clean an’ wholesome. An’ whether we live or die we’ve done our best, and that’s a great comfort.’ So holding on in all sorts of attitudes, those hardlybestead men prayed with the skipper, full of faith that whatever the outcome of the night might be, it would be all right. They finished and were dismissed to their quarters, while the gale howled ever louder, and the awful shadow to leeward deepened.