Frank Bullen begins his account of hunting for sperm
whales with a description of how one became a member of the crew on a
whaler in the late 1800's -- make sure that you're in a seaport and soon
enough you'll be in luck:
Sailor Jack is always hankering for shore when he is
at sea, but when he is "outward bound"--that is, when his
money is all gone -- he is like a cat in the rain there. So as MY money
was all gone, I was hungry for a ship; and when a long, keen-looking man
with a goat-like beard, and mouth stained with dry tobacco-juice, hailed
me one afternoon at the street-corner, I answered very promptly,
scenting a berth. "Lookin' fer a ship, stranger?" said he.
"Yes; do you want a hand?" said I, anxiously. He made a funny
little sound something like a pony's whinny, then answered, "Wall,
I should surmise that I want between fifty and sixty hands, ef yew kin
lay me onto 'em; but, kem along, every dreep's a drop, an' yew seem
likely enough." With that he turned and led the way until we
reached a building around which were gathered one of the most
nondescript crowds I had ever seen. There certainly did not appear to be
a sailor among them.
Bullen was right about the lack of sailors among the
would-be crew: farmers, bakers, and draymen ship out with the Portuguese
Canary Islanders already aboard. Bullen was a sailor however, and soon won
the approval of the black fourth-mate. The Cachalot (or "big
head," another term for "sperm whale") got under way
quickly so that the men could not jump ship and swim for shore -- whalers
were considered a "sailor's horror." Bullen would remain aboard
for three years, never quite sure where the captain might be taking them
in the chase. They ended up circumnavigating the globe.
These would be the last days for this kind of whaling and
Bullen was anxious to give a complete account of life aboard a whaling
ship, with accurate and vivid descriptions of chasing, catching, and
preparing a sperm whale:
In this optimistic mood, then, I gaily flung myself
into my place in the mate's boat one morning, as we were departing in
chase of a magnificent cachalot that had been raised just after
breakfast...He had just settled down for a moment, when, glancing over
the gunwale, I saw his tail, like a vast shadow, sweeping away from us
towards the second mate, who was laying off the other side of him.
Before I had time to think, the mighty mass of gristle leapt into the
sunshine, curved back from us like a huge bow. Then with a roar it came
at us, released from its tension of Heaven knows how many tons. Full on
the broadside it struck us, sending every soul but me flying out of the
wreckage as if fired from catapults. I did not go because my foot was
jammed somehow in the well of the boat, but the wrench nearly pulled my
thigh-bone out of its socket. I had hardly released my foot, when,
towering above me, came the colossal head of the great creature, as he
ploughed through the bundle of debris that had just been a boat. There
was an appalling roar of water in my ears, and darkness that might be
felt all around. Yet, in the midst of it all, one thought predominated
as clearly as if I had been turning it over in my mind in the quiet of
my bunk aboard -- "What if he should swallow me?"
The ship's first captain was a grim despot, the crew
inexperienced, and the weather unpredictable: storms aboard ship as well
as storms at sea were plentiful. Some of the ports they entered were
friendly, but others were decidedly not; the men almost lost their whale
to Chinese pirates in the Hong Kong harbor. Bullen himself becomes fourth
mate under tragic circumstances. But they visit idyllic ports as well, and
with a change of captains the ship life improves noticeably.
Bullen tells a tale that can't be beat for an authentic
voice, one of great human as well as historical interest. "Sailor
Jack" or not, you'll find this graphic story captivating.
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