Catching of the whale and seal

by Anonymous

You will find, my son, by referring to Irving’s Sketch Book, a most thrilling description of a wreck at sea.

The whale-fishery is not more distinguished for examples of sudden peril and besetment than for unexpected deliverance from the most alarming situations.

“Three Dutch ships, after having completed a rich cargo on the northern coast of Spitzbergen, were at once so completely beset, that the crews in general urged the necessity of proceeding over the ice, and endeavoring to reach some other vessel. The captain of one of the three, however, strongly urged the obligation of doing all in their power to preserve such valuable property, and they agreed to make a further trial; when, in twenty days, the ice opened, and they had a happy voyage homeward.

The Dame Maria Elizabeth, had set out early for the fishery, and was so fortunate as, by the 30th of May, to have taken fourteen whales. Then, however, a violent gale from the south blew in the ice with such violence, that the captain found himself completely beset, and saw two Dutch vessels and one English go to pieces at a little distance. At length a brisk gale from the north gave him the hope of being extricated; when presently he was involved in a dense fog, which froze so thick upon the sails and rigging, that the ship appeared a mere floating iceberg. As the atmosphere cleared, the faint light, and the birds winging their way to the southward, announced the closing in of winter. Unable to make any progress, the seamen looked forward in despair to the prospect of spending the season in that frozen latitude. They had nearly come to the end of their provisions, and famine was already staring them in the face, when they thought of broiling the whales’ tails, which proved very eatable, and even salutary against the scurvy. Thus they hoped to exist till the middle of February, beyond which the prospect was very dismal; but on the 12th November there arose a violent north wind, which dispersed the ice. Their hopes being now awakened, every effort was strained; and on the 18th a north-wester brought on so heavy a rain, that next day they were entirely clear of the ice, and had a prosperous voyage homeward.

Capt. Broerties, in the Guillamine, arrived on the 22d June at the great bank of northern ice, where he found fifty vessels moored and busied in the fishery. He began it prosperously: the very next day indeed he killed a large whale. The day after, a tempest drove in the ice with such violence that twenty-seven of the ships were beset, of which ten were lost. Broerties, on the 25th July, seeing some appearance of an opening, caused his ship to be warped through by the boats; but, after four days’ labor, she found herself, with four other ships in a narrow basin, enclosed by icy barriers on every side.

On the 1st August the ice began to gather thick, and a violent storm driving it against the vessels, placed them in the greatest peril for a number of days. On the 20th a dreadful gale arose from the north-east, in which the Guillamine suffered very considerable damage. In this awful tempest, out of the five ships two went down, while a third had sprung a number of leaks. The crews were taken on board of the two remaining barks, which they greatly incommoded. On the 25th all the three were completely frozen in, when it was resolved to send a party of twelve men to seek aid from four vessels which a few days before had been driven into a station at a little distance; but by the time of their arrival two of these had been dashed to pieces, and the other two were in the most deplorable condition. Two Hamburgh ships, somewhat farther removed, had perished in a similar manner. Meantime the former came in sight of Gale Hamkes’ Land, in Greenland, and the tempest still pushing them gradually to the southward, Iceland at length appeared on their left. The two more distant ships found a little opening, through which they contrived to escape. The crews of the three others were beginning to hope that they might at last be equally fortunate, when, on the 13th September, a whole mountain of ice fell upon the Guillamine. The men, half naked, leaped out upon the frozen surface, saving with difficulty a small portion of their provisions. The broken remnants of the vessel were soon buried under enormous piles of ice. Of the two other ships, one commanded by Jeldert Janz had just met a similar fate, and there remained only that of one other, to which all now looked for refuge. By leaping from one fragment of ice to another, the men, not without danger, contrived to reach this vessel, which, though in extreme distress, received them on board. Shattered and overcrowded, she was obliged immediately after to accommodate fifty other seamen, the crew of a Hamburg ship which had just gone down, the chief harpooner and twelve of the mariners having perished. These numerous companies, squeezed into one vessel, suffered every kind of distress. Famine, in its most direful forms, began to stare them in the face. All remoter fears, however, gave way, when on the 11th October, the vessel went to pieces in the same sudden manner as the others, leaving to the unfortunate sailors scarcely time enough to leap upon the ice with their remaining stores. With great difficulty they reached a field of some extent, and contrived with their torn sails to rear a sort of covering; but, sensible that, by remaining on this desolate spot, they must certainly perish, they saw no safety except in scrambling over the frozen surface to the coast of Greenland, which was in view. With infinite toil they effected their object, and happily met some inhabitants, who received them hospitably, and regaled them with dried fish and seals’ flesh. Thence they pushed across that dreary region till they succeeded at length, on the 13th March, in reaching the Danish settlement of Frederickshaab. Here they were received with the utmost kindness, and, being recruited from their fatigues, took the first opportunity of embarking for Denmark, whence they afterward sailed to their native country.

The Davis’s Strait fishery has also been marked with very frequent and fatal shipwrecks. In 1814 the Royalist, Capt. Edmonds, perished with all her crew; and in 1817, the London, Capt. Mathews, shared the same fate. The only account of either of these ships ever received was from Capt. Bennet of the Venerable, who, on the 15th April, saw the London in a tremendous storm, lying to windward of an extensive chain of icebergs, among which, it is probable she was dashed to pieces that very evening. Large contributions were raised at Hull for the widows and families of the seamen who had suffered on these melancholy occasions.

Among accidents on a smaller scale, one of the most frequent is, that of boats employed in pursuit of the whale being overtaken by deep fogs or storms of snow, which separate them from the ship, and never allow them to regain it. A fatal instance of this kind occurred to the Ipswich, Capt. Gordon; four of whose boats, after a whale had been caught, and even brought to the ship’s side, were employed on a piece of ice hauling in the line, when a storm suddenly arose, caused the vessel to drift away, and prevented her, notwithstanding the utmost efforts, from ever coming within reach of the unfortunate crews who composed the greater part of her establishment. Mr. Scoresby mentions several casualties of the same nature which occurred to his boats’ companies, all of whom, however, in the end, happily found their way back. One of the most alarming cases was that of fourteen men who were left on a small piece of floating ice, with a boat wholly unable to withstand the surrounding tempest; but amid their utmost despair they fell in with the Lively of Whitby, and were most cordially received on board.

The source, however, of the most constant alarm to the whale-fisher is connected with the movements of that powerful animal, against which, with most unequal strength, he ventures to contend. Generally, indeed, the whale, notwithstanding his immense strength, is gentle, and even passive; seeking, even when he is most hotly pursued, to escape from his assailants, by plunging into the lowest depths of the ocean. Sometimes, however, he exerts his utmost force in violent and convulsive struggles; and every thing with which, when thus enraged, he comes into collision, is dissipated or destroyed in an instant. The Dutch writers mention Capt. Vienkes of the ship Barley Mill, who, after a whale had been struck, was hastening with a second boat to the support of the first. The fish, however, rose, and with its head struck the boat so furiously, that it was shivered to pieces, and Vienkes was thrown with its fragments on the back of the huge animal. Even then this bold mariner darted a second harpoon into the body of his victim; but unfortunately he got entangled in the line and could not extricate himself, while the other party were unable to approach near enough to save him. At last, however, the harpoon was disengaged, and he swam to the boat.

Mr. Scoresby, in one of his earliest voyages, saw a boat thrown several yards into the air, from which it fell on its side, plunging the crew into the sea. They were happily taken up, when only one was found to have received a severe contusion. Capt. Lyons of the Raith of Leith, on the Labrador coast, in 1802, had a boat thrown fifteen feet into the air; it came down into the water with its keel upwards, yet all the men except one were saved.