3.Fishing in crowded ice or in open packs.—In navigable open drift-ice, or amongst small detached streams and patches, either of which serve in a degree to break the force of the sea, and to prevent any considerable swell from arising, we have a situation which is considered as one of the best possible for conducting the fishery in; consequently, it comes under the same denomination as those favourable situations in which I have first attempted to describe the proceedings of the fishers in killing the whale. But the situation I now mean to refer to is when the ice is crowded and nearly close, so close, indeed, that it scarcely affords room for boats to pass through it, and by no means sufficient space for a ship to be navigated among it. This kind of situation occurs in somewhat open packs, or in large patches of crowded ice, and affords a fair probability of capturing a whale, though it is seldom accomplished without a considerable deal of trouble. When the ice is very crowded, and the ship cannot sail into it with propriety, it is usual, especially with foreigners, to seek out for a mooring to some mass of ice, if such can be found, extending two or three fathoms or more under water. A piece of ice of this kind is capable not only of holding the ship “head to wind,” but also to windward of the smaller ice. The boats then set out in chase of any fish which may be seen, and when one happens to be struck, they proceed in the capture in a similar manner aswhen under more favourable circumstances, excepting so far as the obstruction which the quality and arrangement of the ice may offer to the regular system of proceeding. Among crowded ice, for instance, the precise direction pursued by the fish is not easily ascertained, nor can the fish itself be readily discovered on its first arrival at the surface after being struck, on account of the elevation of the intervening masses of ice, and the great quantity of line it frequently takes from the fast-boat. Success in such a situation depends on the boats being spread widely abroad, and on a judicious arrangement of each boat; on a keen look out on the part of the harpooners in the boats, and on their occasionally taking the benefit of a hummock of ice, from the elevation of which the fish may sometimes be seen blowing in the interstices of the ice; on pushing or rowing the boats with the greatest imaginable celerity towards the place where the fish may have been seen; and lastly, on the exercise of the highest degree of activity and dispatch in every proceeding.
If these be neglected, the fish will generally have taken breath, recovered its strength, and removed to some other quarter, before the arrival of the boats; and it is often remarked, that if there be one part of the ice more crowded or more difficult of access than another, it commonly retreats thither for refuge. In such cases, the sailors find muchdifficulty in getting to it with their boats, having to separate many pieces of ice before they can pass through between them. But when it is not practicable to move the pieces, and when they cannot travel over them, they must either drag the boats across the intermediate ice, or perform an extensive circuit before they can reach the opposite side of the close ice, into which the whale has retreated.
A second harpoon in this case, as indeed in all others, is a material point. They proceed to lance whenever the second harpoon is struck, and strike more harpoons as the auxiliary boats progressively arrive at the place. When the fish is killed, it is often at a distance from the ship, and so circumstanced that the ship cannot get near it. In such cases, the fish must be towed by the boats to the ship; an operation which, among crowded ice, is most troublesome and laborious.
4.Bay-ice fishing.—Bay-ice constitutes a situation which, though not particularly dangerous, is yet, on the whole, one of the most troublesome in which whales are killed. In sheets of bay-ice, the whales find a very effectual shelter; for so long as the ice will not carry a man, they cannot be approached with a boat without producing such a noise as must certainly warn them of the intended assault; and if a whale, by some favourable accident, were struck, the difficulties of completing the capture are always numerous, and sometimesprove insurmountable. The whale having free locomotion beneath the ice, the fishers pursue it under great disadvantage. The fishers cannot push their boats toward it but with extreme difficulty, while the whale, invariably warned by the noise of their approach, possesses every facility for avoiding its enemies.
In the year 1813, I adopted a new plan of fishing in bay-ice, which was attended with the most successful result. The ship under my command, the Esk, of Whitby, was frozen into a sheet of bay-ice, included in a triangular space, formed by several massive fields and floes. Here a number of small whales were seen sporting around us in every little hole or space in the bay-ice, and occasionally they were observed to break through it for the purpose of breathing. In various little openings free of ice near the ship, few of which were twenty yards in diameter, we placed boats, each equipped with a harpoon and lines, and directed by two or three men. They had orders to place themselves in such a situation that if a fish appeared in the same opening they could scarcely fail of striking it. Previous to this, I supplied myself with a pair of ice-shoes, consisting of two pieces of thin deal, six feet in length, and seven inches in breadth. They were made very thin at both ends, and in the centre of each was a hollow place, exactly adapted for the reception of the sole of my boot, with a loop of leather for confining the toes. I wasthus enabled to retain the ice-shoes pretty firmly to my feet when required, or, when I wished it, to disengage them in a moment. Where the ice was smooth, it was easy to move in a straight line, but in turning I found a considerable difficulty, and required some practice before I could effect it without falling. I advanced with tolerable speed, where the ice was level on the surface, by sliding the shoes alternately forward, but when I met with rough hilly places I experienced great inconvenience. When, however, the rough places happened to consist of strong ice, which generally was the case, I stept out of my ice-shoes until I reached a weaker part. Equipped with this apparatus, I travelled safely over ice which had not been frozen above twenty-four hours, and which was incapable of supporting the weight of the smallest boy in the ship.
Whenever a fish was struck, I gave orders to the harpooner, in running the line, to use every means of drowning it; the trouble of hauling it up, under the circumstances in which the ship was placed, being a matter of no consideration. This was attempted by holding a steady tight strain on the line, without slacking it or jerking it unnecessarily, and by forbearing to haul the line when the fish stopped. By this measure, one fish, the stoutest of the three which we got, was drowned. When others were struck, and the attempt to drown them failed, I provided myself with a harpoon, and observing the directionof the line, travelled towards the place where I expected the fish to rise. A small boat was launched, more leisurely, in the same direction for my support; and whenever the ice in my track was capable of supporting a man, assistance was afforded me in dragging the line. When the wounded fish appeared, I struck my harpoon through the ice, and then, with some occasional assistance, proceeded to lance it, until it was killed. At different times, the fish rose beneath my feet, and broke the ice on which I stood; on one occasion, where the ice was happily more than usually strong, I was obliged to leave my ice shoes, and skip off. In this way we captured three fish, and took their produce on board, while several ships near us made not the least progress in the fishery. After they were killed, we had much trouble in getting them to the ship, but as we could not employ ourselves to advantage in any other way, we were well satisfied with the issue. This part of the business I could not effect alone, and all hands, who were occasionally employed in it, broke through the ice. Some individuals broke in two or three times, but no serious accident ensued. As a precaution, we extended a rope from man to man, which was held in the hands of each in their progress across the ice, and which served for drawing those out of the water who happened to break through. Sometimes ten or a dozen of them would break in at once, but so far was such an occurrence from excitingdistress, that each of their companions indulged a laugh at their expense, notwithstanding they probably shared the same fate a minute or two afterwards.
5.Fishing in storms.—Excepting in situations sheltered from the ice, it would be alike useless and presumptuous to attempt to kill whales during a storm. Instances, however, occur, wherein fish that were struck during fine weather, or in winds which do not prevent the boats from plying about, remain entangled, but unsubdued, after the commencement of a storm. Sometimes the capture is completed, at others the fishers are under the necessity of cutting the lines, and allowing the whale to escape. Sometimes, when they have succeeded in killing it, and in securing it during the gale with a hawser to the ship, they are enabled to make a prize of it on the return of moderate weather; at others, after having it to appearance secured by means of a sufficient rope, the dangerous proximity of an ice-pack constrains them to cut it adrift and abandon it for the preservation of their vessel. After thus being abandoned, it becomes the prize of the first who gets possession of it, though it be in the face of the original capturers. A storm commencing while the boats are engaged with an entangled fish, sometimes occasions serious disasters. Generally, however, though they suffer the loss of the fish, and perhaps some of their boats and materials, yet the men escape with their lives.
6.Fishing in foggy weather.—The fishery in storms can never be voluntary; but in foggy weather, though occasionally attended with hazard, the fishery is not altogether impracticable. The fogs which occur in the icy regions in June and July are generally dense and lasting: they are so thick, that objects cannot be distinguished at the distance of 100 or 150 yards, and frequently continue for several days without attenuation. To fish with safety and success, during a thick fog, is, therefore, a matter of difficulty, and of still greater uncertainty. When it happens that a fish conducts itself favourably, that is, descends almost perpendicularly, and, on its return to the surface, remains nearly stationary, or moves round in a small circle, the capture is usually accomplished without hazard or particular difficulty; but when, on the contrary, it proceeds with any considerable velocity in a horizontal direction, or obliquely downwards, it soon drags the boats out of sight of the ship, and shortly so confounds the fishers in the intensity of the mist, that they lose all traces of the situation of their vessel. If the fish, in its flight, draws them beyond the reach of the sound of a bell, or a horn, their personal safety becomes endangered; and if they are removed beyond the sound of cannon, their situation becomes extremely hazardous, especially if no other ships happen to be in the immediate vicinity. Meanwhile, whatever may be theirimaginary or real danger, the mind of their commander must be kept in the most anxious suspense until they are found; and whether they may be in safety or near perishing with fatigue, hunger, and cold, so long as he is uncertain of their fate, his anxiety must be the same.
Before entering on the subsequent operations of the whalers, connected with a successful fishery, I shall give a few examples of remarkable strength, activity, or other peculiarity, in the behaviour of whales after they have been struck, being a few of the curious circumstances connected with the fishery which I have myself observed, or have received from unquestionable authority. On the 25th June, 1812, one of the harpooners belonging to the Resolution, of Whitby, under my command, struck a whale by the edge of a small floe of ice; assistance being promptly afforded, a second boat’s lines were attached to those of the fast-boat in a few minutes after the harpoon was discharged; the remainder of the boats proceeded to some distance in the direction which the fish seemed to have taken. In about a quarter of an hour, the fast-boat, to my surprise, again made a signal for lines. As the ship was then within five minutes’ sail, we instantly steered towards the boat, with the view of affording assistance by means of a spare boat we still retained on board. Before we reached the place, however, we observed four oars displayed in signal order,which, by their number, indicated a most urgent necessity for assistance. Two or three men were at the same time seen seated close by the stern, which was considerably elevated, for the purpose of keeping it down, while the bow of the boat, by the force of the line, was drawn down to the level of the sea, and the harpooner, by the friction of the line round the bollard, was enveloped in smoky obscurity. At length, when the ship was scarcely one hundred yards distant, we perceived preparations for quitting the boat. The sailors’ pea jackets were cast upon the adjoining ice; the oars were thrown down; the crew leaped overboard; the bow of the boat was buried in the water; the stern rose perpendicularly, and then majestically disappeared. The harpooner having caused the end of the line to be fastened to the iron ring at the boat’s stern was the means of its loss; and atongueof the ice, on which was a depth of several feet of water, kept the boat, by the pressure of the line against it, at such a considerable distance as prevented the crew from leaping upon the floe. Some of them were, therefore, put to the necessity of swimming for their preservation, but all of them succeeded in scrambling upon the ice, and were taken on board the ship in a few minutes. It may be here observed, that it is an uncommon circumstance for a fish to require more than two boats’ lines in such a situation; none of our harpooners, therefore, had anyscruple in leaving the fast-boat, never suspecting, after it had received the assistance of one boat with six lines, or upward, that it would need any more.
Several ships being about us, there was a possibility that some person might attack and make a prize of the whale, when it had so far escaped us that we no longer retained any hold of it; as such, we set all sail the ship could safely sustain, and worked through several narrow and intricate channels in the ice in the direction I observed the fish had retreated. After a little time, it was descried by the people in the boats at a considerable distance to the eastward; a general chase immediately commenced, and within the space of an hour three harpoons were struck. We now imagined that the fish was secure, but our expectations were premature. The whale resolutely pushed beneath a large floe that had been recently broken to pieces by the swell, and soon drew all the lines out of the second fast-boat, the officer of which, not being able to get any assistance, tied the end of his line to a hummock of ice and broke it. Soon afterwards, the other two boats, stillfast, were dragged against the broken floe, when one of the harpoons drew out. The lines of only one boat, therefore remained fast to the fish, and this, with six or eight lines out, was dragged forward into the shattered floe with astonishing force; pieces of ice, each of which were sufficiently large tohave answered the purpose of a mooring for the ship, were wheeled about by the strength of the whale; and such was the tension and elasticity of the line that, whenever it slipped clear of any mass of ice, after turning it round into the space between any two adjoining pieces, the boat and its crew flew forward through the crack with the velocity of an arrow, and never failed to launch several feet upon the first mass of ice that it encountered.
While we scoured the sea around the broken floe of the ship, and while the ice was attempted in vain by the boats, the whale continued to press forward in an easterly direction towards the sea. At length, when fourteen lines, about 1,680 fathoms, were drawn from the fourth fast-boat, a slight entanglement of the line broke it at the stern. The fish again made its escape, taking along with it a boat and twenty-eight lines. The united length of the lines was 6,720 yards, or upwards of three English miles and three-quarters; value with the boat above £150 sterling. The obstruction of the sunken boat to the progress of the fish must have been immense, and that of the lines likewise considerable, the weight of the lines alone being thirty-five hundred weight. So long as the fourth fast-boat, through the medium of its lines, retained its hold of the fish, we searched the adjoining sea with the ship in vain, but in a short time after the line was divided we got sight of the object of pursuit at the distance of near twomiles to the eastward of the ice and boats, in the open sea. One boat only with lines, and two empty boats, were reserved by the ship. Having, however, happily fine weather and a breeze of wind, we immediately gave chase under all sails, though it must be confessed with the insignificant force by us, the distance of the fish, and the rapidity of its flight considered, we had but very small hopes of success. At length, after pursuing it five or six miles, being at least nine miles from the place where it was struck, we came up with it, and it seemed inclined to rest after its extraordinary exertion. The two dismantled or empty boats having been furnished with two lines each, (a very inadequate supply,) they, together with the one in good state of equipment, now made an attack upon the whale. One of the harpooners made a blunder; the fish saw the boat, took the alarm, and again fled. I now supposed it would be seen no more; nevertheless, we chased nearly a mile in the direction I imagined it had taken, and placed the boats to the best of my judgment in the most advantageous situations. In this instance we were extremely successful. The fish rose near one of the boats, and was immediately harpooned. In a few minutes, two more harpoons entered its back, and lances were plied against it with vigour and success. Exhausted by its amazing exertions to escape, it yielded itself at length to its fate, received the piercing wounds of thelances without resistance, and finally died without a struggle. After all, it may seem surprising that it was not a particularly large individual, the largest lamina of whalebone only measuring nine feet six inches, while those affording twelve feet bone are not uncommon. The quantity of line withdrawn from the different boats engaged in the capture was singularly great. It amounted altogether to 10,440 yards, or nearly six English miles. Of these, thirteen new lines were lost, together with the sunken boat, the harpoon connecting them with the fish having dropped out before the whale was killed. Thus terminated with success an attack upon a whale, which exhibited the most uncommon determination to escape from its pursuers, seconded by the most amazing strength, of any individual whose capture I ever witnessed.
When engaged in the pursuit of a large whale, it is a necessary precaution for two boats at all times to proceed in company, that the one may be able to assist the other on any emergency. With this principle in view, two boats from the Esk were sent out in chase of some large whales, on the 13th of June, 1814. No ice was within sight, the boats had proceeded some time together, when they separated in pursuit of two whales, not far distant from each other, when, by a singular coincidence, the harpooners each struck his fish at the same moment. They were a mile from the ship. Urgent signals for assistance were immediatelydisplayed by each boat, and, in a few minutes, one of the harpooners was under the necessity of slipping the end of his line. Happily, the other fish did not descend so deep, and the lines in the boat proved adequate to the occasion. One of the fish being then supposed to be lost, five of the boats, out of seven, attended on the fish which yet remained entangled, and speedily killed it. A short time afterwards, the other fish supposed to be irrecoverably lost, was descried at a little distance from the place where it was struck; three boats proceeded against it; it was immediately struck, and in twenty minutes also killed. Thus were successfully captured two whales, both of which had been despaired of. They produced us near forty tuns of oil, value at that time £1,400. The lines attached to the fish last killed were recovered in a remarkable manner. The harpooners were busily engaged in attempting to secure them, when the harpoon, by which alone they were prevented from sinking, slipped out; but as it descended in the water, it luckily hooked the line belonging to another boat, by which both harpoon and lines were preserved.
It is very generally believed by the whalers, that fish have occasionally been struck, which, by sudden extension or heave of the body, have instantly disengaged themselves from the harpoon. This usually happens when the whale is struck “with a slack back,” as that position of the fish is denominated, in whichthe back being depressed the flesh is relaxed. A harpoon then struck occasions an uncommon wound. Hence, if the fish suddenly extends itself and elevates its back, the wound appears of twice the size of the harpoon, and consequently the weapon is capable of being thrown out by the jerk of the body. Under such circumstances as these, a large whale was struck by a harpooner belonging to the ship Howe, of Shields. The fish extending and lifting its back with uncommon violence, the harpoon was disengaged and projected high into the air, when, at the same moment, the fish rolled over upon its back, and received the point of the falling weapon in its belly, whereby it was captured and caught. This circumstance, romantic as it may appear, is so well authenticated by the person who struck the fish, together with others who were in the boat at the same time, and were witnesses of the fact, that I have no scruple in introducing it here.
On the 28th of May, 1817, the Royal Bounty, of Leith, captain Drysdale, fell in with a great number of whales, in the lat. 77° 25′ north, and long. 5° or 6° east. Neither ice nor land was in sight, nor was there supposed to be either the one or the other within fifty or sixty miles. A brisk breeze of wind prevailed, and the weather was clear. The boats were, therefore, manned and sent in pursuit. After a chase of about five hours, the harpooner, commanding a boat, who, with another in company, hadrowed out of sight of the ship, struck one of the whales. This was about fourA.M., of the 29th. The captain, supposing from the long absence of the two most distant boats that a fish had been struck, directed the course of the ship towards the place where he had last seen them, and about eightA.M.he got sight of a boat which displayed the signal for beingfast. Some time afterwards, he observed the other boat approach the fish, a second harpoon struck, and the usual signal displayed. As, however, the fish dragged the two boats away with considerable speed, it was midday before any assistance could reach them. Two more harpoons were then struck, but such was the vigour of the whale that, although it constantly dragged through the water four to six boats, together with a length of 1,600 fathoms of line which it had drawn out of the different boats, yet it pursued its flight nearly as fast as a boat could row and such was the terror that it manifested on the approach of its enemies, that, whenever a boat passed beyond its tail, it invariably dived. All their endeavours to lance it were, therefore, in vain.
The crews of the loose boats being unable to keep pace with the fish, caught hold of and moored themselves to the fast-boats; and for some hours afterwards, all hands were constrained to sit in idle impatience, waiting for some relaxation in the speed of the whale. Its most general course had hitherto been to windward,but a favourable change taking place, enabled the ship, which had previously been at a great distance, to join the boats at eightP.M.They succeeded in tacking one of the lines to the ship which was fast to the fish, with a view of retarding its flight. They then furled the top-gallant sails, and lowered the top sails; but after supporting the ship a few minutes head to wind, the wither of the harpoon upset or twisted aside, and the instrument was disengaged from its grasp. The whale immediately set off to windward with increased speed, and it required an interval of three hours before the ship could again approach it. Another line was then taken on board, which immediately broke. A fifth harpoon had previously been struck, to replace the one which had been pulled out, but the line attached to it was soon afterwards cut. They then instituted various schemes for arresting the speed of the fish, which occupied their close attention nearly two hours. But its velocity was yet such that the master, who had himself proceeded to the attack, was unable to approach sufficiently near to strike a harpoon. After a long chase, however, he succeeded in getting hold of one of the lines which the fish dragged after it, and in fastening another line to it. The fish then happily turned towards the ship, which was a considerable distance to leeward.
At fourP.M.of the 30th, thirty-six hours after the fish had been struck, the ship again joinedthe boats, when, by a successful manœuvre, they secured two of the fast lines on board. The wind blowing a moderately brisk breeze, the top-gallant sails were taken in, the courses hauled up, and the top sails clewed down, but, notwithstanding the resistance a ship thus situated must necessarily offer, she was towed by the fish directly to windward with the velocity of at least one-half to two knots during an hour and a half; and then, though the whale must have been greatly exhausted, it beat the water with its fins and tail in so tremendous a way, that the sea around was in a continual foam, and the most hardy of the sailors scarcely dared to approach it. At length, about eightP.M., after forty hours of almost incessant, and for the most part fruitless exertion, this formidable and astonishing animal was killed. The capture and the flensing occupied forty-eight hours. The fish was eleven feet four inches in bone, (the length of the longest lamina of whalebone,) and its produce filled forty-seven butts, or twenty-three and a half tun casks, with blubber.
I proceed now to enumerate the proceedings of the fishers after a whale is killed. Some preliminary measures are requisite before a whale can be flensed. The first operation performed on a dead whale is to lash it with a rope, passed several times through two holes pierced through the tail to the bow of the boat. The more difficult operation of freeing the whale from the entanglement of the line isthen attempted. As the whale, when dead, always lies on its back or on its side, the lines and harpoons are generally far under water. When they are seen passing obliquely downwards, they are hooked with a grapnel, pulled to the surface, and cut. But, when they hang perpendicular, or when they cannot be seen, they are discovered by a process called “sweeping a fish.” This is performed by taking a part of a whale-line in two different boats, ten or fifteen fathoms asunder, and while one boat lies at rest, supporting the end of a line, the other is rowed round the fish, and the bight or intermediate part of the line allowed to sink below the fish as it proceeds, until each of the parts held in the two boats are again brought together. Hence, when one part of the line has made a circuit of the fish, it must evidently inclose every other line or appendage affixed to it. Thus inclosed, they are pulled up to the surface of the water, and each of them cut at the splice of the fore-ganger, leaving the harpoon sticking in the fish, with its fore-ganger attached, and allowing the end of the line to sink, and be hauled on board of the boat from whence it was withdrawn at the convenience of the crew. While this is in progress, the men of other boats, having first lashed the tail to a boat, are employed in lashing the fins together across the belly of the whale.
On one occasion I was myself engaged in the capture of a fish, upon which, when to appearancedead, I leaped, cut holes in the fins, and was in the act of “reeving” a rope through them to lash them together, when the fish sank beneath my feet. As soon as I observed that the water had risen above my knees, I made a spring towards a boat, at the distance of three or four yards from me, and caught hold of the gunwale. Scarcely was I helped on board, before the fish began to move forward, turn from its back upon its belly, reared its tail aloft, and began to shake it with such prodigious violence, as to resound through the air to the distance of two or three miles. In the meanwhile all the sailors very properly kept aloof, and beheld its extraordinary power with the greatest astonishment. After two or three minutes of this violent exercise, it ceased, rolled upon its side, and died.
A fish being properly secured, is then “taken in tow;” that is, all the boats form themselves in a line, by ropes always carried for the purpose, and unite their efforts in rowing towards the ship. Towing a fish is usually considered a cheerful though laborious operation, and is generally performed with great expressions of joy. A large whale, by means of six boats, can be towed at a rate of nearly a mile per hour. The fish having reached the ship, is taken to the larboard side, arranged and secured for flensing. For the performance of this operation, a variety of knives and other instruments are requisite. Towards the stern of the ship thehead of the fish is directed, and the tail, which is first cut off, rests abreast of the fore-chains; the smallest or posterior part of the whale’s body, where the tail is united, is called the rump, and the extremity or anterior part of the head, the nose or nose-end. The rump, then, supported by a tackle, is drawn forward by means of a stout rope, called the rump-rope; and the head is drawn in an opposite direction, by means of the “nose-tackle.” Hence the body of the fish is forcibly extended. The right-side fin, being next the ship, is lashed upwards towards the gunwale. A band of blubber, two or three feet in width, encircling the fish’s body, and lying between the fins and the head, being the fat of the neck, or what corresponds in other animals with the neck, is called the kent, because by means of it the fish is turned over, or kented. Now, to the commencement of this imaginary band of fat, or kent, is fixed the lower extremity of a combination of powerful blocks, called the kent-purchase. Its upper extremity is fixed round the head of the main-mast, and its fall or rope is applied to the windlass, drawn tight, and the upper surface of the fish raised several inches above the water. The enormous weight of a whale prevents the possibility of raising it more than one-fourth or one-fifth part out of the water, except indeed when it has been some days dead, in which case it swells, in consequence of air generated by putrefaction, untilone-third of its bulk appears above the surface. The fish then lying belly upward, extended, and well secured, is ready for commencing the operation of flensing. In this state a suspension of labour is generally allowed, in which the crew refresh themselves and prepare for the ensuing duties.
An unhappy circumstance once occurred in an interval of this kind. At that period of the fishery, (forty or fifty years ago,) when a single stout whale was sufficient to remunerate the owners of a ship for the expenses of the voyage, great joy was exhibited on the capture of a whale by the fishers. They not only had a dram of spirits, but were sometimes provided with some favourite “mess,” on which to regale themselves before they commenced the arduous task of flensing. At such a period, the crew of an English vessel had captured their first whale. It was taken to the ship, placed on the lee-side, and though the wind blew a strong breeze, it was fastened only by a small rope attached to the fin. In this state of supposed security, all hands retired to regale themselves, the captain himself not excepted. The ship being at a distance from any ice, and the fish believed to be secure, they made no great haste in their enjoyment. At length, the specksioneer, having spent sufficient time in indulgence and equipment, with an air of importance and self-confidence, proceeded on deck, and naturally turned to look on the whale. To his astonishmentit was not there. In some alarm, he looked astern, ahead, on the other side, but his search was useless; the ship drifting fast had pressed forcibly upon the whale, the rope broke, the fish sank, and was lost. The mortification of this event may be conceived, but the termination of their vexation will not easily be imagined, when it is known that no other opportunity of procuring a whale occurred during the voyage. The ship returned home clean. The blessings of Divine Providence, of a temporal and also of a spiritual kind, are bestowed and continued in union with the activity and watchfulness of those who receive them, and it is a law of the earthly, and also of the heavenly treasure, that “whosoever hath, to him shall be given; and whosoever hath not, from him shall be taken even that which he seemeth to have.”
After the whale is properly secured, and the men are sufficiently refreshed, the harpooners, having their feet armed with “spurs,” to prevent them from slipping, descend upon the fish. Two boats, each of which is under the guidance of one or two boys, attend upon them, and serve to hold all their knives and other apparatus. Thus provided, the harpooners, directed by the specksioneer, divide the fat into oblong pieces, or “slips,” by means of “blubber-spades” and “blubber-knives;” then affixing a “speck-tackle” to each slip, progressively flay it off as it is drawn upward. The speck-tackles,which are two or three in number, are rendered effective by capsterns, winches, or other mechanical powers. Each of them consists of a simple combination of two single blocks, one of which is securely fixed in a strong rope, extended between the main-top and the fore-top, called a guy, and the other is attached by a strap to the blubber of the whale. The flensers commence with the belly and under-jaw, being the only part then above water. The blubber, in pieces of half a ton to a ton each, is received upon deck by the boat-steerers and line-managers, the former with “strand-knives” divide it into portable, cubical, or oblong pieces, containing near a solid foot of fat, while the latter, furnished with “pick-haaks,” pass it between decks, down a hole in the main-hatches. It is then received by two men styled kings, who pack it in a receptacle provided for it in the hold, or other suitable place, called the flense-gut, where it remains until further convenience.
All the fat being taken away from the belly, and the right fin removed, the fish is then turned on its side, by means of the kent, which, by the power of the windlass, readily performs this office. The upper surface of fat is again removed, together with the left fin, and after a second kenting one of the “lips” is taken away, by which the whale-bone of one side of the head, now lying nearly horizontal, is exposed. The fish being a little furtherturned, the whalebone of the left side is dislodged by the use of the “bone hand-spikes,” “bone-knives,” and “bone-spades.” Four instruments, which, when combined, constitute what is called the bone-geer, are used, with the assistance of two speck-tackles, for taking up the whalebone in one mass. On its arrival on deck, it is split with “bone-wedges” and “junks,” containing from five to ten blades each, and stowed away. A further kenting brings the fish’s back upward, and the next exposes the second side of bone. As the fish is turned or kented round, every part of the blubber becomes progressively uppermost and is removed. At length, when the whole of the blubber, whalebone, and jawbones have been taken on board, the kent, which now appears a slip of perhaps thirty feet in length, is also separated, together with the rump-rope and nose-tackle, on which the carcase being at liberty, generally sinks in the water and disappears. When it floats, however, it becomes food for bears, sharks, and various kinds of birds, all of which attack it with the most voracious earnestness. It is known by the name of the kreng.
When sharks are present, they generally take the liberty of helping themselves very bountifully during the progress of the flensing, but they often pay for their temerity with their lives. Fulmars pay close attendance in immense numbers. They seize the fragments occasionally disengaged by the knife whilethey are swimming in the water, but most of the other gulls who attend on the occasion take their share on the wing. The burgomaster is decidedly the master of the feast. Hence, every other bird is obliged to relinquish the most delicious morsel when the burgomaster descends to claim it. Bears seldom approach so near the ship as to become partakers of the banquet. When dispatch is seconded by ability, the operation of flensing can be accomplished on a fish affording from twenty to thirty tons of blubber in the space of three or four hours, and, probably, the average time with British fishers but little exceeds four hours.
Some years ago, I was witness of a circumstance in which a harpooner was exposed to the most imminent risk of his life, at the conclusion of a flensing process, by a very curious accident. This harpooner stood on one of the jaw-bones of a fish with a boat by his side. In this situation, while he was in the act of cutting the kreng adrift, a boy inadvertently struck the point of the boat-hook, with which he usually held the boat, through the ring of the harpooner’s spur, and in the same act seized the jawbone of the fish with the hook of the same instrument. Before this was discovered, the kreng was set at liberty, and began instantly to sink. The harpooner then threw himself towards the boat, but being firmly entangled by the foot, he fell into the water. Providentially he caught the gunwale of the boat with hishands, but, overpowered by the force of the sinking kreng, he was on the point of relinquishing his grasp when some of his companions got hold of his hands, while others threw a rope round his body. The carcase of the fish was suspended entirely by the poor fellow’s body, which was, consequently, so dreadfully extended that there was some danger of his being drawn asunder. But such was his terror of being taken under water, and not, indeed, without cause, for he could never have risen again, that, notwithstanding the excruciating pain he suffered, he constantly cried out to his companions to “haul away the rope.” He remained in that dreadful state until means were adopted for hooking the kreng with the grapnel, and bringing it back to the surface of the water. Had he not caught hold of the boat as he was sinking and met with such prompt assistance, he must infallibly have perished.
Next to the process of flensing is that of making-off. When the flens-gut is filled with blubber, or when, no fish being seen, a favourable opportunity of leisure is presented, the operation of making-off is generally commenced. This consists of freeing the fat from all extraneous substances, especially the muscular parts and the skin, then cutting it into small pieces, and putting it into cask through the bung-holes. In the first instance, the ship must be moored to a convenient piece of ice, or placed in an open situation, and the sails so reduced as torequire no further attention in the event of bad weather occurring. The hold of the ship must be cleared of its superstructure of casks, until the “ground tier,” or lowest stratum of casks is exposed, and the ballast-water must be “started,” or pumped out of all the casks that are removed upon deck, as well as out of those on the ground tier, which are first prepared for the reception of the blubber. In “breaking out the hold,” it is not necessary to lay open more of the ground tier at a time than three or four casks extend in length.
While the line-managers, together with the “skee-man,” (the officer who has the direction of operations in the hold,) the cooper, and perhaps a few others, are employed in breaking out the hold, the rest of the crew on the deck arrange all the variety of apparatus used for the preparation of the blubber before it is put into the casks. Of this apparatus, the most considerable part is the “speck-trough,” with its appendages. It consists of a kind of oblong box or chest, about twelve feet in length, one and three quarters feet in breadth, and one and a half feet in depth. The speck-trough is fixed upon the deck, as nearly as possible over the place where the casks are to be filled in the hold. A square hole made in its bottom is placed either over the nearest hatchway to the scene of operations, or upon a corresponding hole cut in the deck. The speck-trough is then secured, and its lid turned backwards into anhorizontal position. The surface of the lid, forming a level table, is then covered with blocks of whale’s-tail from end to end. This substance makes an excellent chopping-block, and preserves the chopping-knives from injury when used for dividing the blubber upon it. Into the square hole in the bottom of the speck-trough is fitted an iron frame, to which is suspended a canvas tube, or “hose,” denominated a “lull.” The lull is open at both ends. Its diameter is about a foot, and its length sufficient to reach from the deck to the bottom of the hold. To the middle, or towards the upper part of the lull, is attached a “pair of nippers,” consisting of two sticks fastened together by a kind of hinge at one end, and capable of being pressed together at the other. The nippers being passed across the body of the lull, and their detached extremities brought together, they embrace it so closely that nothing can pass downward while they remain in this position; but when, on the other hand, the nippers are extended, the lull forms a free channel of communication between the speck-trough and the hold.
Everything being in readiness, the blubber, as it is now thrown out of the flens-gut by the kings, undergoes the following several operations. It is received upon deck by the “krengers,” whose office is to remove all the muscular parts, together with such spongy or fibrous fat as is known by experience toproduce very little oil. When these substances, which go under the general denomination of kreng, are included among the blubber in the casks, they pass through a kind of fermentation, and generate such a quantity of gas as sometimes to burst the containing vessels, and occasion the loss of their contents. From the krengers the blubber passes to the harpooners. Each of these officers, provided with a blubber-knife, or a strand-knife, places himself by the side of the “closh,” fixed in the deck. An attendant, by means of a pair of “hand-hooks,” or a “pick-haak,” then mounts a piece of blubber upon the spikes of the closh, and the harpooner slices off the skin. From the skinners, the blubber passes into an open space, called the bank, prepared as a depository in front of the speck-trough, and it is then laid upon the chopping-blocks as wanted. It now falls under the hands of the boat-steerers, who, armed with chopping-knives, are arranged in a line by the side of the chopping-blocks with the speck-trough before them. Thus prepared, they divide the blubber, as it is placed on their blocks, into oblong pieces, not exceeding four inches in diameter, and push it into the speck-trough intended for its reception. And finally, the blubber falls under the direction of the line-managers, stationed in the hold, who receive it into tubs through the lull, and pass it with their hands into the casks, through their bung-holes. When a cask is nearly filled, the packingis completed by the use of a “pricker,” one piece after another being thrust in by this instrument until it can contain no more. It is then securely bunged up.
When the ground-tier casks, as far as they have been exposed are filled, the second-tier of casks is stowed upon it, and likewise filled with blubber, together with the third-tier casks when necessary. When fish can be had in sufficiency, the hold is filled and likewise the space between decks. When a ship is deficient in casks, vacancies adapted for the reception of the cargo are filled with blubber in bulk. The operation of making off was in the early ages of the fishery performed on shore, and even so late as the middle of the last century, it was customary for ships to proceed into a harbour, and remain while this process was going on.
In the Greenland whale-fishery, the importance of a code of laws was at a very early period apparent. A fish struck by the people of two different ships became an object of dispute, the first striker claiming the whole, and the second demanding a share for his assistance. Stores saved from wrecked vessels, and especially the cargoes of wrecks, being objects of much moment, were also liable to occasion disputes in a still higher degree. Hence, about the year 1677, the Dutch issued a code of regulations, founded on equitable principles, for the prevention of quarrels and litigation among the fishers. As these were found to be insufficient, theStates-General of Holland and West Friesland, in the year 1696, approved and confirmed the general regulations with respect to the saving of the crews and stores of vessels wrecked in the ice, the right to whales under peculiar circumstances, and other matters connected with the fishery. They consisted of twelve articles, and every captain, specksioneer, and officer concerned in the fishery, was obliged to subscribe them. After being duly announced, these articles were enforced by commissioners, chosen from among the principal Greenland owners of Holland, for conducting and carrying into effect this and other matters connected with the prosperity and regulation of the fishery.
Among the British whale-fishers, it does not appear that any particular laws were ever expressly laid down for the adjusting of differences; yet custom has established certain principles as constituting the rule of right, the legality of which is sufficiently acknowledged by their being universally respected. The fundamental articles are two. First, that a fast fish, or a fish in any way in possession, whether alive or dead, is the sole and unquestionable property of the persons so maintaining the connection or possession; and secondly, that a loose fish, alive or dead, is fair game. The first of these regulations can need no modification, but the second can only be recommended for its simplicity and tendency to prevent litigation, since circumstances may, and do, sometimesoccur, in which its application is liable to some objection. In this, as in other departments of human conduct, it is impossible by any strict regulations to prevent all kinds of injustice. The highest code of human morals enjoins on men what they shall be, as well as what they shall do, and provides for them the one golden precept, “Whatsoever ye would that men should do to you, do ye even so to them.” Conduct, which it is impossible to punish by appeal to any human tribunal, is often most fearfully in violation of this law, and must await the decisions of that day, when God shall try every man’s work of what sort it is.
The following circumstance, which occurred a good many years ago, has a tendency to illustrate the existing Greenland laws, and to set them in a prominent light. During a storm of wind and snow, several ships were beating to windward, under easy sail, along the edge of a pack. When the storm abated and the weather cleared, the ships steered towards the ice. Two of the fleet approached it about a mile asunder, abreast of each other, when the crews of each ship accidentally got sight of a dead fish at a little distance, within some loose ice. Each ship now made sail to endeavour to reach the fish before the other, which fish, being loose, would be the prize of the first that should get possession of it. Neither ship could outsail the other, but each continued to press forward toward the prize. The little advantage one of themhad in distance, the other compensated with velocity. On each bow of the two ships was stationed a principal officer, armed with a harpoon, in readiness to discharge. But it so happened that the ships came in contact with each other, when within a few yards of the fish, and in consequence of the shock with which their bows met, they rebounded to a considerable distance. The officers at the same moment discharged their harpoons, but all of them fell short of the fish. A hardy fellow, who was second-mate of the leeward ship, immediately leaped overboard, and with great dexterity swam to the whale, seized it by the fin, and proclaimed it his prize. It was, however, so swollen, that he was unable to climb upon it, but was obliged to remain shivering in the water until assistance should be sent. His captain, elated with his good luck, forgot, or at least neglected, his brave second-mate, and before he thought of sending a boat to release him from his disagreeable situation, prepared to moor his ship to an adjoining piece of ice. Meanwhile, the other ship tacked, and the master himself stepped into a boat, pushed off, and rowed deliberately towards the dead fish. Observing the trembling seaman still in the water, holding by the fin, he addressed him with, “Well, my lad, you’ve got a fine fish here,” to which, after a natural reply in the affirmative, he added, “But don’t you find it very cold?” “Yes,” replied the shiveringsailor, “I’m almost starved; I wish you would allow me to come into your boat until ours arrive.” This favour needed no second solicitation; the boat approached the man, and he was assisted into it. The fish being again loose and out of possession, the captain instantly struck his harpoon into it, hoisted his flag, and claimed his prize. Mortified and displeased as the other master felt at this trick, for so it certainly was, he had nevertheless no redress, but was obliged to permit the fish to be taken on board of his competitor’s ship, and to content himself with abusing the mate for his want of discretion, and with condemning himself for not having more compassion on the poor fellow’s feelings, which would have prevented the disagreeable misadventure.
Success in the whale-fishery has been very generally supposed to depend, not upon the exercise of talent and industry on the part of the masters and crews of the fishing-ships, but solely upon the freaks of fortune. That the fishery, however, is altogether a chain of casualties, is as false as it is derogatory to the credit of the persons employed in the enterprise. The most skilful, from adventitious and unavoidable circumstances, may occasionally fail, and the unskilful may be successful; but if we mark the average of a number of years, that is, where the means are equal, a tolerable estimate may be formed of the adventurer’s ability, and his fitness for the undertaking in which he is engaged.
The great variety of success, which is observed to result from the exertions of the different Greenland commanders, when the average of several voyages is taken, confirmed the above position, and the circumstance of some masters, in whatever ship they may sail, almost always succeeding, whilst others, however favourably circumstanced, seldom or ever procure a whole cargo, warrants this conclusion, that, most generally, successful fishery depends on the experience, determined perseverance, and personal talent of the master of the vessel, supported by a necessary degree of skill among the people composing his crew. There are occasions, however, especially in those seasons when the Greenland Seas are open, or in some measure free from ice, in which personal talent becomes of comparative little avail. This was strikingly the case in the year 1817, and in some degree in 1818. In the former season, the ice lay at a distance so remote from Spitzbergen, that a space of about two thousand square miles of the surface of the sea, which is usually covered with ice, was wholly void of it. Whatever decisions the judicious fisher was led by experience to form and act upon proved fallacious, and tended only to embarrass him in all his proceedings. The only indication which could be of the least service to the fisher to assist him in the choice of a situation, was the colour of the sea. In places where the water was transparent, and blue, or greenish blue, it was invain to look for whales, but in a certain stream of cloudy water, of a deep olive-green colour, all the whales which were seen throughout the season, or at least nine-tenths of them, occurred, and the chief part of those which were caught were found in the same stream of water. This kind of sea-water is the favourite resort of whales during the fishing season, evidently because it abounds with various descriptions ofactiniæ,sepiæ,medusæ, andcancri, which constitute the chief, if not the sole nourishment of the whale.
Success in the fishery is more certain in close than in open seasons, and has some dependence on the suitable equipment of the ships employed in the trade, on a sufficient apparatus, and frequently in no inconsiderable degree on that valuable property of the ship called fast-sailing. When any opening occurs in the ice of a tempting appearance, it frequently happens that a number of ships enter it together. The fastest sailers lead the way, and often procure a whale or two or more before the heavy sailing ships can perform a navigation, and by the time the latter accomplish it, the run of fish is frequently over. Not a little depends in the fishery on the confidence the sailors have in the skill of their captain, and the efficiency of the personal talents and exertions of their officers. If the officers are generally unsuccessful, they are apt to lose confidence in them, and proceed, even when goodopportunities occur, without spirit to the attack. The greater their spirits and confidence are, the greater is the probability of their success. Hence, the crew of a ship which has met with success can generally fish better, and more advantageously under the same circumstances, than the people of a clean ship. For the regulation of the ship’s movements, for the choice of a situation, for direction in difficulties, for a stimulus when discouraged, for encouragement when weary, and for a variety of other important matters, the master alone must be looked to, on whom, indeed, almost every considerable effort of judgment or forethought devolves.
I now subjoin a few instances of the dangers which accompany the whale-fishery, most of which presented themselves within the sphere of my own observation. Those employed in the occupation of killing whales are, when actually engaged, exposed to danger from three sources, namely, from the ice, from the climate, and from the whales themselves. Of these, the casualties on the ice are the most uncommon, and the least fatal; those from the climate the most fatal, but not the most frequent; and the whale itself is the source of a great proportion of the accidents which occur.
The following instance illustrates the danger from overhanging masses of ice falling on the boats. The crew of one of the Hull whalers, having killed a fish by the side of an icebergin Davis’s Strait, the fins were lashed together, and the tail secured to a boat in the usual way, but by the efforts only of one boat’s crew, all the other boats belonging to the same ship being engaged in the capture of two more whales, neither of which were yet subdued. This circumstance occasioned some altercation among the crew of the boat, as to the propriety of their remaining by the dead whale, or of quitting it, and proceeding in an empty boat which was at hand to the assistance of their companions. The latter measure was carried, but as it was deemed expedient that one man should remain in the boat, to which none of them would consent, they were under the necessity of either remaining in idleness by the fish, or leaving the fish and the boat by themselves. But every one being anxious to participate in the more active exercises of the fishery, they at length agreed unanimously to quit the boat connected with the dead fish, and to proceed to the aid of their comrades. The arrangements were just accomplished in time, for they had not rowed many fathoms from the place before a tremendous crash of the berg ensued, an immense mass of ice fell upon the boat they had just quitted, and neither it nor the fish was ever seen afterwards.
Another danger arises from ice when boats are inclosed and beset, and their crews prevented from joining their ships. On June 17th,1813, several Greenland fishing-ships penetrated the ice into an enticing opening, in which a number of whales were sporting in fancied security. The John, of Greenock, Neptune, of Aberdeen, Earl Percy, of Kirkcaldy, were immediately, to appearance, successful. The crew of the John in a short time killed several fish; the people of the Neptune killed one, and struck a second; and the crew of the Earl Percy struck one also. Things were in this state when I arrived in the same situation with the Esk. My harpooners, happily as it proved, did not succeed in any measure. The sea was as smooth as the surface of a pond, but the ice I observed was in a strange state of disturbance. Some floes, and some large pieces, moved with a velocity of three to four miles per hour, while other similar masses were at rest. The John, which, on her first arrival in this situation, had navigated an open lake some leagues in circumference, was in the space of a few hours closely beset. The captain of the Neptune, alarmed by the danger to which his men and boats were exposed, left his ship to the care of his second-mate, with eleven or twelve men, and proceeded himself in a boat, making the fifth, to their assistance. In a few minutes, these five boats, together with two belonging to the Earl Percy, were closely fixed in the ice. The ships were forced to a distance; the ice in the course of the following morning spread to the width of seven or eight miles, and shortly afterwards thepeople in the boats and those in the corresponding ships lost sight of each other.
My father, who at this time commanded the John, had anticipated the consequences of the ice closing, and found refuge in a cove in an adjoining field filled with bay-ice, into which he thrust his ship, and obtained shelter for himself and his comrades who were thus beset. After three days, the ice slackened, and the Neptune boats, together with those belonging to the Earl Percy, left the John, although neither the sea nor their ships were visible. In this adventure they proved successful. When they had rowed many hours to the south-eastward, they discovered a ship, on their approach to which they were invited on board, and received some refreshment. After this, having received information of the relative situation of their ships, they put off, and soon after had the happiness of regaining their respective vessels. This circumstance, which was the occasion of so much anxiety, danger, and loss of time to the crews of the Neptune and Earl Percy, proved the contrary to the people of the John, as they added to her cargo seventeen whales, within the space of five days, and on the sixth, the ice having again slackened, they made their escape into a place of safety.
The climate of the Polar regions becomes a source of danger to the whale-fishers when boats are separated from the ship to which they belong, in foggy weather when they are overtakenby a storm and prevented from joining their ship, and when the people in the boats are long exposed to inclement winds.
On the commencement of a heavy gale of wind, May 11th, 1813, fourteen men put off in a boat from the Volunteer, of Whitby, with the view of setting an anchor in a large piece of ice, to which it was their intention to moor the ship. The ship approached; on a signal being made the sails were clewed up, and a rope fixed to the anchor, but the ice shivering with the violence of the strain, when the ship fell astern the anchor flew out, and the ship went adrift. The sails being again set, the ship was reached to the eastward, (wind at north,) the distance of about two miles, but in attempting to wear and return, the ship, instead of performing the evolution, scudded a considerable distance to leeward, and was then reached out to sea, thus leaving fourteen of her crew to a fate most dreadful, the fulfilment of which seemed inevitable. The temperature of the air was 15° or 16° of Fahrenheit, when these poor men were left upon a detached piece of ice, without food, without shelter from the inclement storm, and deprived of every means of refuge, except in a single boat, which, on account of the number of men, and violence of the storm, was incapable of conveying them to their ship. Death stared them in the face whichever way they turned, and a division in opinion ensued.
Some were wishful to remain by the ice, but the ice could afford them no shelter from the piercing wind, and would probably be soon broken to pieces by the increasing swell; others were anxious to attempt to join their ship, while she was yet in sight, but the force of the wind, the violence of the sea, and the smallness of the boat in comparison of the number of men to be conveyed, were objections which would have appeared utterly insurmountable to any persons but men in a state of despair. Judging that by remaining on the ice death was but retarded for a few hours, as the extreme cold must eventually benumb their faculties, and invite a sleep which would overcome the remains of animation, they determined on making the attempt to row to their ship. Poor creatures! what must have been their sensations at this moment, when the spark of hope yet remaining was so feeble that a premature death even to themselves seemed inevitable. They made the daring experiment, when a few minutes’ trial convinced them that the attempt was utterly impracticable. They then, with longing eyes, turned their efforts towards recovering the ice they had left, but their utmost exertions were unavailing. Every one now viewed his situation as desperate, and anticipated as certain the fatal event that was to put a period to his life. How great must have been their delight, and how overpowering their sensations, when, at this most critical juncture, a ship appeared insight! She was advancing directly towards them; their voices were extended, and their flag displayed. But although it was impossible they should be heard, it was not impossible they should be seen. Their flag was descried by the people on board the ship, their courses were so directed as to form the speediest union, and in a few minutes they found themselves on the deck of the Lively, of Whitby, under circumstances of safety. They received from their townsmen the warmest congratulations, and while each individual was forward in contributing his assistance towards the restoration of their benumbed bodies, each of the rescued appeared sensible that their narrow escape from death was highly providential.
The forbearance of God is wonderful. Perhaps these very men a few hours before were impiously invoking their own destruction, or venting imprecations upon their fellow-beings. True it is, the goodness of the Almighty extendeth over all his works, and that while “he delighteth in mercy” he is “slow to anger.” It is no exaggeration to affirm, that every guilty soul of man unpardoned and uncleansed through the blood of the Mediator, is exposed to a peril equally portentous with that which threatened these fishermen. God has, however, provided an ark of mercy, floating on the billows of life’s tempestuous, dangerous ocean, within which every soul may find perfect and permanent peace. That ark iseven now present, and entrance to it may be instantly secured. To delay is to increase the peril, perhaps beyond the possibility of future relief. “Behold, now is the accepted time; behold, now is the day of salvation.” Reader, enter into this ark of mercy by faith in the Lord Jesus!
One of the most calamitous events which in modern times has occurred in the fishery, was that which happened to the crew of the Ipswich, captain Gordon, about fifteen years ago. A whale was struck and killed by the Ipswich’s people early in the spring of the year, a season in which the weather is most uncertain. A storm commenced, accompanied with snow, before the capture was completed, but nevertheless the fish was taken to the ship, and having shelter from the ice it was flensed. Meanwhile, four boats’ crews were employed on a piece of ice, in hauling in the lines of the fast-boats, etc., during the performance of which duties the ship drifted out of sight of them. Every effort was then made by the captain for discovering these unhappy men, who, being above twenty in number, constituted nearly half of his crew. But the weather continuing thick and stormy, and the frost most intense, it is probable that they all perished before the conclusion of the gale; at least none of them were saved, nor can I learn that any of their bodies were ever found.
The remarkable property of oil in smoothingthe surface of the sea when considerably agitated, and of preventing breakers in the main ocean, was sometimes resorted to by the ancient whale-fishers for their preservation, when overtaken by storms at sea. It was not unusual, I believe, a century ago, for every whale-boat to carry along with it a keg of oil for this very purpose; which oil, being slowly poured overboard in a storm, afforded a sort of defence to the boat as it drifted to leeward. The height of the waves, it is true, is not affected by the action of the oil, but as it intercepts the attraction which dry air possesses for water, it prevents the immediate action of the wind, quells the ruffled surface of the waves, and in a great degree prevents the tendency to breakers, which constitutes the principal danger in a storm.
The most extensive source of danger to the whale-fisher, when actively engaged in his occupation, arises from the object of his pursuit. The fisher is liable to receive contusions from oars forcibly struck by the fish, or from direct blows from its fins or tail; he is liable to accidents from getting entangled by the lines, or from the boat being drawn under water by the fish through the medium of the lines; and he is in danger of being thrown overboard by the heeling or jerking of the boat, or more particularly from the boat being stove, upset, sunk, or projected into the air, by the force of a blow from the whale.
One of the crew of the John, of Greenock, who was in a fast-boat in the fishery of 1818, unfortunately slipped his foot through a coil of line in the act of running out, which drew him forward to the boat’s stern, and separated his foot by the ancle. He was conveyed by the first boat to the ship, where the assistance of several surgeons being procured, the lower part of the leg was cut off. After this, the poor fellow, having received the most unremitting attention from captain Jackson, with the best sustenance and accommodation the ship could afford, was restored to health, and his wound nearly healed before the conclusion of the voyage. It is worthy of being remarked, that the captain and crew of the John subscribed upwards of £24 for his relief, which was increased by the owners of the ship and others, on arrival, to about £37. This sum was placed in the “Provident Bank,” at Greenock, from whence he was permitted to draw it, after the rate of 7s.per week.
A harpooner, belonging to the Henrietta, of Whitby, when engaged in lancing a whale, into which he had previously struck a harpoon, incautiously cast a little line under his feet that he had just hauled into the boat, after it had been drawn out by the fish. A painful stroke of his lance induced the whale to dart suddenly downward, his line began to run out from beneath his feet, and in an instant caught him by a turn round his body. He had but justtime to call out, “Clear away the line!”—“Oh dear!” when he was almost cut asunder, dragged overboard, and drowned. The line was cut at the moment, but without avail. The fish descended a considerable depth and died, from whence it was drawn to the surface by the lines connected with it, and secured.
On the 3rd of June, 1811, a boat from the ship Resolution, commanded at the time by myself, put off in pursuit of a whale, and was rowed upon its back. At the moment that it was harpooned, it struck the side of the boat a violent blow with its tail, the shock of which threw the boat-steerer to some distance into the water. A repetition of the blow projected the harpooner and line-manager in a similar way, and completely drenched the part of the crew remaining in the boat with the sprays. One of the men regained the boat, but, as the fish immediately sank and drew the boat away from the place, his two companions in misfortune were soon left far beyond the reach of assistance. The harpooner, though a practised swimmer, felt himself so bruised and enervated by a blow he had received on the chest, that he was totally incapacitated from giving the least support to his fellow-sufferer. The ship being happily near, a boat, which had been lowered on the first alarm, arrived to their succour at the moment when the line-manager, who was unacquainted with the art of swimming, was on the point of sinking to rise no more. Both theline-manager and harpooner were preserved; and the fish, after a few hours’ close pursuit, was subdued.
While the same ship navigated an open lake of water in the 81° north lat., during a keen frost and strong north wind, on the 2nd of June, 1806, a whale appeared, and a boat put off in pursuit. On its second visit to the surface of the sea it was harpooned. A convulsive heave of the tail which succeeded the wound struck the boat at the stern, and, by its reaction, projected the boat-steerer overboard. As the line in a moment dragged the boat beyond his reach, the crew threw some of their oars towards him for his support, one of which he happily seized. The ships and boats being at a considerable distance, and the fast-boat being rapidly drawn away from him, the harpooner cut the line, with the view of rescuing him from his dangerous situation. But no sooner was this act performed than, to their extreme mortification, they discovered, in consequence of some oars being thrown towards their floating comrades, and others being broken or unshipped by the blow from the fish, one oar only remained, with which, owing to the force of the wind, they tried in vain to approach him. A considerable period elapsed before any boat from the ship could afford him assistance, though the men strained every nerve for the purpose. At length, when they reached him, he was found with his arms stretched over anoar, almost deprived of sensation. On his arrival at the ship he was in a deplorable condition. His clothes were frozen like mail, and his hair constituted a helmet of ice. He was immediately conveyed into the cabin, his clothes taken off, his limbs and body dried and well rubbed, and a cordial administered to him. A dry shirt and stockings were then put upon him, and he was laid in the captain’s bed. After a few hours’ sleep, he awoke, and appeared considerably relieved. He complained of a painful sensation of cold. He was therefore removed to his own berth, and one of his messmates ordered to lie on each side of him, whereby the diminished circulation of the blood was accelerated, and the animal heat restored. The shock on his constitution, however, was greater than was anticipated. He recovered in the course of a few days so as to be able to engage in his ordinary pursuits, but many months elapsed before his countenance exhibited its wonted appearance of health.
A remarkable instance of the power which the whale possesses in its tail was exhibited within my own observation, in the year 1807. On the 29th of May, a whale was harpooned by an officer belonging to the Resolution. It descended a considerable depth, and on its reappearance evidenced an uncommon degree of irritation. It made such a display of its fins and tail, that few of the crew were hardy enough to approach it. The captain, (my father,)observing their timidity, called a boat, and himself struck the second harpoon. Another boat immediately followed, and, unhappily, advanced too far. The tail was again reared into the air in a terrific attitude. The impending blow was evident. The harpooner, who was directly underneath, leaped overboard. At the next moment, the threatened stroke was impressed on the centre of the boat, which buried it in the water. Happily no one was injured. The harpooner, who leaped overboard, escaped certain death by the act, the tail having struck the very spot on which he stood. The effects of the blow were astonishing. The keel was broken, the gunwales and every plank, excepting two, were cut through, and it was evident the boat would have been completely divided had not the tail struck directly upon a coil of lines. The boat was rendered useless.
The Dutch ship, Gort-Moolen, commanded by Cornelius Gerard Ouwekaas, with a cargo of seven fish, was anchored in Greenland, in the year 1660. The captain, perceiving a whale ahead of his ship, beckoned his attendants, and threw himself into a boat. He was the first to approach the whale, and succeeded in harpooning it before the arrival of the second boat, which was on the advance. Jacques Vienkes, who had the direction of it, joined his captain immediately afterwards, and prepared to make a second attack on the fish when it should remount to the surface. Atthe moment of its ascension, the boat of Vienkes happening unhappily to be perpendicularly above it, was so suddenly and forcibly lifted up by a stroke of the head of the whale, that it was dashed to pieces before the harpooner could discharge his weapon. Vienkes flew along with the pieces of the boat, and fell upon the back of the animal. This intrepid seaman, who still retained his weapon in his grasp, harpooned the whale on which he stood, and by means of the harpoon and the line, which he never abandoned, he steadied himself firmly upon the fish, notwithstanding his hazardous situation, and regardless of a considerable wound that he received in his leg, in his fall along with the fragments of the boat. All the efforts of the other boats to approach the whale and deliver the harpooner were futile. The captain, not seeing any other method of saving his companion, who was in some way entangled with the line, called to him to cut it with his knife, and betake himself to swimming. Vienkes, embarrassed and disconcerted as he was, tried in vain to follow this counsel. His knife was in the pocket of his drawers, and, being unable to support himself with one hand, he could not get it out. The whale meanwhile continued advancing along the surface of the water with great rapidity, but happily never attempted to dive. While his comrades despaired of his life, the harpoon by which he held at length disengaged itselffrom the body of the whale. Vienkes, being then liberated, did not fail to take advantage of this circumstance. He cast himself into the sea, and, by swimming, endeavoured to regain the boats which continued the pursuit of the whale. When his shipmates perceived him struggling with the waves, they redoubled their exertions. They reached him just as his strength was exhausted, and had the happiness of rescuing this adventurous harpooner from his perilous situation.