Fighting the Whales Page 3

  CHAPTER THREE.

  OUR FIRST BATTLE.

  I shall never forget the surprise I got the first time I saw a whale.

  It was in the forenoon of a most splendid day, about a week after wearrived at that part of the ocean where we might expect to find fish. Alight nor'-east breeze was blowing, but it scarcely ruffled the sea, aswe crept slowly through the water with every stitch of canvas set.

  As we had been looking out for fish for some time past, everything wasin readiness for them. The boats were hanging over the side ready tolower, tubs for coiling away the ropes, harpoons, lances, etcetera, allwere ready to throw in, and start away at a moment's notice. The man inthe "crow's nest," as they call the cask fixed up at the mast-head, waslooking anxiously out for whales, and the crew were idling about thedeck. Tom Lokins was seated on the windlass smoking his pipe, and I wassitting beside him on an empty cask, sharpening a blubber-knife.

  "Tom," said I, "what like is a whale?"

  "Why, it's like nothin' but itself," replied Tom, looking puzzled."Why, wot a queer feller you are to ax questions."

  "I'm sure you've seen plenty of them. You might be able to tell what awhale is like."

  "Wot it's like! Well, it's like a tremendous big bolster with a headand a tail to it."

  "And how big is it?"

  "They're of all sizes, lad. I've seen one that was exactly equal tothree hundred fat bulls, and its rate of goin' would take it round thewhole world in twenty-three days."

  "I don't believe you," said I, laughing.

  "Don't you?" cried Tom; "it's a fact notwithstandin', for the captainhimself said so, and that's how I came to know it."

  Just as Tom finished speaking, the man in the crow's nest roared at thetop of his voice, "There she blows!"

  That was the signal that a whale was in sight, and as it was the firsttime we had heard it that season, every man in the ship was thrown intoa state of tremendous excitement.

  "There she blows!" roared the man again.

  "Where away?" shouted the captain.

  "About two miles right ahead."

  In another moment the utmost excitement prevailed on board. Suddenly,while I was looking over the side, straining my eyes to catch a sight ofthe whale, which could not yet be seen by the men on deck, I saw a brownobject appear in the sea, not twenty yards from the side of the ship;before I had time to ask what it was, a whale's head rose to thesurface, and shot up out of the water. The part of the fish that wasvisible above water could not have been less than thirty feet in length.It just looked as if our longboat had jumped out of the sea, and he wasso near that I could see his great mouth quite plainly. I could havetossed a biscuit on his back easily. Sending two thick spouts of frothywater out of his blow-holes forty feet into the air with tremendousnoise, he fell flat upon the sea with a clap like thunder, tossed hisflukes, or tail, high into the air, and disappeared.

  I was so amazed at this sight that I could not speak. I could onlystare at the place where the huge monster had gone down.

  "Stand by to lower," shouted the captain.

  "Ay, ay, sir," replied the men, leaping to their appointed stations; forevery man in a whale-ship has his post of duty appointed to him, andknows what to do when an order is given.

  "Lower away," cried the captain, whose face was now blazing withexcitement.

  In a moment more three boats were in the water; the tubs, harpoons,etcetera, were thrown in, the men seized the oars, and away they wentwith a cheer. I was in such a state of flutter that I scarce knew whatI did; but I managed somehow or other to get into a boat, and as I was astrong fellow, and a good rower, I was allowed to pull.

  "There she blows!" cried the man in the crow's nest, just as we shotfrom the side of the ship. There was no need to ask, "where away" thistime. Another whale rose and spouted not more than three hundred yardsoff, and before we could speak a third fish rose in another direction,and we found ourselves in the middle, of what is called a "school ofwhales."

  "Now, lads," said the captain, who steered the boat in which I rowed,"bend your backs, my hearties; that fish right ahead of us is ahundred-barrel whale for certain. Give way, boys; we _must_ have thatfish."

  There was no need to urge the men, for their backs were strained to theutmost, their faces were flushed, and the big veins in their necksswelled almost to bursting, with the tremendous exertion.

  "Hold hard," said the captain, in a low voice, for now that we weregetting near our prey, we made as little noise as possible.

  The men at once threw their oars "apeak," as they say; that is, raisedthem straight up in the air, and waited for further orders. We expectedthe whale would rise near to where we were, and thought it best to restand look out.

  While we were waiting, Tom Lokins, who was harpooner of the boat, satjust behind me with all his irons ready. He took this opportunity toexplain to me that by a "hundred-barrel fish" is meant a fish that willyield a hundred-barrels of oil. He further informed me that such a fishwas a big one, though he had seen a few in the North-west Seas that hadproduced upwards of two hundred-barrels.

  I now observed that the other boats had separated, and each had goneafter a different whale. In a few minutes the fish we were in chase ofrose a short distance off, and sent up two splendid water-spouts highinto the air, thus showing that he was what the whalers call a "right"whale. It is different from the sperm whale, which has only oneblow-hole, and that a little one.

  We rowed towards it with all our might, and as we drew near, the captainordered Tom Lokins to "stand up," so he at once laid in his oar, andtook up the harpoon. The harpoon is an iron lance with a barbed point.A whale-line is attached to it, and this line is coiled away in a tub.When we were within a few yards of the fish, which was going slowlythrough the water, all ignorant of the terrible foes who were pursuinghim, Tom Lokins raised the harpoon high above his head, and darted itdeep into its fat side just behind the left fin, and next moment theboat ran aground on the whale's back.

  "Stern all, for your lives!" roared the captain, who, before his orderwas obeyed, managed to give the creature two deep wounds with his lance.The lance has no barbs to its point, and is used only for woundingafter the harpoon is fixed.

  The boat was backed off at once, but it had scarcely got a few yardsaway when the astonished fish whirled its huge body half out of thewater, and, coming down with a tremendous clap, made off like lightning.

  The line was passed round a strong piece of wood called the"logger-head," and, in running out, it began to smoke, and nearly setthe wood on fire. Indeed, it would have done so, if a man had not keptconstantly pouring water upon it. It was needful to be very cautious inmanaging the line, for the duty is attended with great danger. If anyhitch should take place, the line is apt to catch the boat and drag itdown bodily under the waves. Sometimes a coil of it gets round a leg oran arm of the man who attends to it, in which case his destruction isalmost certain. Many a poor fellow has lost his life in this way.

  The order was now given to "hold on line." This was done, and in amoment our boat was cleaving the blue water like an arrow, while thewhite foam curled from her bows. I thought every moment we should bedragged under; but whenever this seemed likely to happen, the line waslet run a bit, and the strain eased. At last the fish grew tired ofdragging us, the line ceased to run out, and Tom hauled in the slack,which another man coiled away in its tub. Presently the fish rose tothe surface, a short distance off our weather-bow.

  "Give way, boys! spring your oars," cried the captain; "another touch ortwo with the lance, and that fish is ours."

  The boat shot ahead, and we were about to dart a second harpoon into thewhale's side, when it took to "sounding,"--which means, that it wentstraight down, head foremost, into the depths of the sea. At thatmoment Tom Lokins uttered a cry of mingled anger and disappointment. Weall turned round and saw our shipmate standing with the slack line inhis hand, and such an expression on his weather-beaten face, that Icould scarce
help laughing. The harpoon had not been well fixed; it hadlost its hold, and the fish was now free!

  "Gone!" exclaimed the captain, with a groan.

  I remember even yet the feeling of awful disappointment that came overme when I understood that we had lost the fish after all our trouble! Icould almost have wept with bitter vexation. As for my comrades, theysat staring at each other for some moments quite speechless. Before wecould recover from the state into which this misfortune had thrown us,one of the men suddenly shouted, "Hallo! there's the mate's boat indistress."

  We turned at once, and, truly, there was no doubt of the truth of this,for, about half a mile off, we beheld our first mate's boat tearing overthe sea like a small steamer. It was fast to a fish, and two oars wereset up on end to attract our attention.

  When a whale is struck, it sometimes happens that the whole of the linein a boat is run out. When this is about to occur, it becomes necessaryto hold on as much as can be done without running the boat under thewater, and an oar is set up on end to show that assistance is required,either from the ship or from the other boats. As the line grows lessand less, another and another oar is hoisted to show that help must besent quickly. If no assistance can be sent, the only thing that remainsto be done is to cut the line and lose the fish; but a whale-line, withits harpoon, is a very heavy loss, in addition to that of the fish, sothat whalers are tempted to hold on a little too long sometimes.

  When we saw the mate's boat dashing away in this style, we forgot ourgrief at the loss of our whale in our anxiety to render assistance toour comrades, and we rowed towards them as fast as we could.Fortunately the whale changed its course, and came straight towards us,so that we ceased pulling, and waited till they came up. As the boatcame on I saw the foam curling up on her bows as she leaped and flewover the sea. I could scarcely believe it possible that wood and ironcould bear such a strain. In a few minutes they were almost abreast ofus.

  "You're holding too hard!" shouted the captain.

  "Lines all out!" roared the mate.

  They were past almost before these short sentences could be spoken. Butthey had not gone twenty yards ahead of us when the water rushed in overthe bow, and before we could utter a word the boat and crew were gone.Not a trace of them remained! The horror of the moment had not beenfully felt, however, when the boat rose to the surface keel up, and, oneafter another, the heads of the men appeared. The line had fortunatelybroken, otherwise the boat would have been lost, and the entire crewprobably would have gone to the bottom with her.

  We instantly pulled to the rescue, and were thankful to find that not aman was killed, though some of them were a little hurt, and all hadreceived a terrible fright. We next set to work to right the upsetboat, an operation which was not accomplished without much labour anddifficulty.

  Now, while we were thus employed, our third boat, which was in charge ofthe second mate, had gone after the whale that had caused us so muchtrouble, and, when we had got the boat righted and began to look aboutus, we found that she was fast to the fish about a mile to leeward.

  "Hurrah, lads!" cried the captain, "luck has not left us yet. Give way,my hearties, pull like Britons! we'll get that fish yet."

  We were all dreadfully done up by this time, but the sight of a boatfast to a whale restored us at once, and we pulled away as stoutly as ifwe had only begun the day's work. The whale was heading in thedirection of the ship, and when we came up to the scene of action thesecond mate had just "touched the life"; in other words, he had driventhe lance deep down into the whale's vitals. This was quickly known byjets of blood being spouted up through the blow-holes. Soon after, ourvictim went into its dying agonies, or, as whalemen say, "his flurry."

  This did not last long. In a short time he rolled over dead. Wefastened a line to his tail, the three boats took the carcass in tow,and, singing a lively song, we rowed away to the ship.

  Thus ended our first battle with the whales.